Finding Focus -- by Jamie

I’m back in college after an almost 20-year hiatus, and attending my classes has been a bit of a juggling act, between dropping Jayda off at daycare at her designated hour (and not earlier, because I’m trying to save money), and then trying to beat traffic and snag decent street parking near Queens College—to say nothing of the challenges of participating in the classes, and doing the class work, while still freelancing and being a devoted single mom. But one glitch I didn’t expect is that I’d feel like my three-year-old daughter when it comes to studying for my tests: I just can’t focus.

This past December, my mother gave Jayda a LeapFrog computer for Hanukkah. Jayda was thrilled when she unwrapped the gift, and squealed with delight. She then insisted we hook it up right away so she could test it out. I rushed to attach the device to the television as fast as I could, and as soon as I turned it on, Jayda sat in front of her new “puter” and started to play; less than five minutes later she stopped and stood up: “I done!” she announced, and ran off to do one of her puzzles. My mother’s jaw dropped and she turned to me questioningly. I just shrugged; this was normal Jayda-behavior. My daughter rarely focuses on any activity for longer than a few minutes. She doesn’t even like to watch TV for very long…which is probably a very good thing, developmentally
(though at times when I’d love to keep Jayda occupied while I’m cooking dinner or attending to an important task, I don’t always see it that way).

Similarly, Jayda is still too young and “unfocused” to sit through a movie, or any theater performances. When we went to see “Disney on Ice,” she loved it, but by the end of the first act, she was pretty much “over” it, and was much happier walking back and forth to the bathroom with me and visiting the refreshment stand. And on President’s Day, when we attended a 1-hour “Blues Clues Live” show, Jayda eagerly watched for 50 minutes (while periodically digging into her bag of popcorn, turning around to watch the other kids, and chatting with me about the show), and then squirmed off of my lap and announced “I ready to go home now” before ever discovering the last clue.

As a 40-year-old, I’m much more focused than Jayda—I can certainly watch three-hour movies and Broadway shows—and these days I can even sit through a not-so-scintillating two-hour Social Statistics lecture once a week. But when it comes to studying…oh my. Last week, I faced my first big test since returning to college, and preparing for it was a nightmare.

My biggest mistake was sitting by my computer to study. First, there was the “ding” of my incoming emails to distract me…and of course, I had to check every one. And if any of those emails included a Facebook comment, I then logged on to my Facebook account to take a closer look. Talk about a time-suck! Sitting by my computer also tempted me to do my “regular” work—instead of studying. Of course this was work that I did need to do—but not imminently. Now, as a freelancer, I’m used to working from home, but for some reason, studying requires much more discipline from me than working…and I’m more easily distracted from it, no matter what mundane tasks are calling to me; on my study days, I easily found myself “escaping” to do laundry, to clean the bathroom, or to run out “just for a few minutes” to do some food shopping. Anything to avoid my text book. When it’s pre-test time for me, just like Jayda racing from toy to toy at a play date, I find myself moving around my house taking care of anything and everything that isn’t related to college coursework.

Back in my undergraduate years at the University of Michigan, I often studied at night for a few hours—and then met my friends at a college bar afterwards. Thinking back on that astounds me because these days, I can barely keep my eyes open after 9 pm. But I guess the lesson here is that back at the U of M, I rewarded myself for my studying and, ultimately, I have to learn to do that now. I need to find something to inspire myself (other than a Long Island Ice Tea and a chance to see my latest crush) to get through my next studying ordeal. Because I know my unfocused three-year-old also performs better when she gets rewards…and clearly we have a lot in common.

They say as we grow older, regression eventually sets in. True, I’m only 40…but maybe it’s already starting to happen to me, because one thing is for certain—I can sure use a nap right about now!

When Mommy is Sick -- by Cara

I had a terrible upper respiratory infection this past week that required antibiotics, fluids and rest. The antibiotics were simple, the fluids were the only soothing thing I could consume since I had a terrible sore throat and laryngitis, but the REST...Ahh where does the rest come into play?

I happened to be somewhat lucky that this illness came about during winter recess because we sent our son to a wonderful place each day where they have indoor swimming and a different theme for each day, along with the option of a hot lunch. I was so sick this week that I dragged my wretched body out of bed each morning, fed my son breakfast, supervised his morning routine of dressing, brushing teeth, etc, and then literally collapsed from exhaustion as my husband took our son to this “Winter Camp.”

I got to thinking how, as mothers, we always put everyone elses needs before our own, so many times, whether we are sick or not sick. And I very well could have let my husband take care of everything for my son since he was home. But that “Mommy Guilt” is what propelled me out of my bed. And it is what propelled me out of bed to make dinner for my son, even though I was shaking and shivering so much, I had to put on a hat and coat just to make my son something simple to eat when he came home from “camp” each day this week.

I guess it would be a little easier if my parents were both alive and young enough to help out in a pinch. Or if I had siblings who were willing to pitch in and help. But because I have literally no one, everything falls on me, sick or well. And let me tell you, it does take it’s toll. Especially when you are in your mid-forties with still a “youngish” child.

I am reading a very insightful, intellectual book called, The Mask of Motherhood,” by Susan Maushart, and in it she states, “One thing is certain: that we will never attain the goal of living comfortably with our choices as mothers until we acknowledge that we HAVE choices and, even more importantly, that we deserve to have them.” CHOOSING to yank myself out of bed when I am cold and shaking was driven by my guilt of not being a “Good Mom” and making my son a home cooked meal. What I SHOULD have done was stay in bed, called my husband, and asked him to bring home pizza for dinner. The family would still have gotten fed, but I would have been in bed resting, where I belonged.

When you have a toddler, or young child who goes to daycare, they are constantly sick and YOU are constantly sick. That’s just how it is. You just hope and pray the cold and flu season passes as quickly as possible and try to do what you can to meet both of your needs as best you can. But this drive to fulfill your child’s need before your own seems to become ingrained in you even from their birth. And even when they get to an age where they can get themselves dressed in the morning and brush their own teeth, as Moms we STILL want to be involved, even if from the sidelines.

I would do anything for my child, as most mothers would, but, as Susan Maushart continues, “Women who diminish their own needs ‘for the sake of the family,’ by whatever means and however sterling their motives, are living a lie. For if families do not begin with mothers, where DO they begin?” And especially if these mothers are “out of commission” by whatever means, does that imply that the family just falls apart?

I think as moms, especially us “Later” moms, we desperately need to tend to ourselves just as much, if not more than our families. We are doing a disservice to our loved ones by forcing ourselves to get out of our sick beds, purely out of guilt! A well, rested, cared for Mom is by far a better mom to everyone. Her children will benefit, her family will benefit, but most importantly, SHE will benefit. Because a happy, nourished Mom, really IS the best kind of Mom!

Making Our Relationship Work -- by Jamie

Jayda accompanies me to my gym every weekend. First, she joins me in the locker room while I change, and both of us converse with the women around us, who always greet Jayda enthusiastically. Then, Jayda goes into the daycare center to play for an hour or so, while I work out. Along the way, Jayda stops and stares at all the men and women who are training in the gym and bombards all of us with questions, watches the step and spinning classes with obvious fascination, and simply enjoys being in the venue as much as I do—and appears to have a lot of fun with me, chatting and socializing.

The other day, an older woman approached me during my work out and told me that she loved watching me with my daughter and that we “reminded her of herself and her daughter” when her child was Jayda’s age. She then proceeded to tell me about how she had raised her daughter (who is now in her early 20s) by herself following her divorce, and how they had been “buddies” in the way Jayda and I appeared to be. But then she said she “had to warn me that having such a close relationship did have its downside,” and explained that when her daughter had hit her early teens, she’d rebelled. The mother and daughter quickly went from “best friends” to barely speaking and it was a very trying time. She assured me that now her daughter is a successful businesswoman—which I thought meant there was a happy ending to her story—but when I asked, “so now you guys are close again?” she shrugged her shoulders and made a face. She said that now, her daughter’s always so busy and never has time for her mother; she never calls her mom for advice, and always cuts her phone calls short because she “has work to do.” But this, too, the woman warned me, was the “downside of raising her daughter to be so independent,” which she was forced to do as a busy, working single mother. She claimed her daughter didn’t “need” her help or advice because she was taught to be self-sufficient at such an early age.

This woman’s story made me very sad. And the worst part is that she was comparing her family to mine! Of course I don’t know how Jayda’s and my story will “end,” but I’d like to think there are a few important differences that will assure my family of a happier ending than my ill-fated gym friend’s. First of all, though Jayda and I may appear to be “buddies” at the gym, we’re not. I’m Jayda’s mother—and I’m in charge. As difficult as it is to do sometimes, I do make rules and set limits. A single friend of mine recently told me, jokingly, that it was a good thing she wasn’t a mother because “any child of hers would be obese!” She was referring to the fact that she’d never be able to say “no” to candy at the supermarket—and would likely give her son or daughter anything he or she asked for when it came to junk food. I laughed…and then I told her she had a point. It is very difficult to say “no” to Jayda when her big blue eyes are fixed longingly on a bag of M&Ms at the check out counter of CVS. Or to hold my ground as that same adorable girl protests, “but I a good girl, mommy!” after I refuse to let her eat chocolate chip cookies for breakfast. But mommies are supposed to keep their kids healthy…and they’re supposed to set limits. And they’re also supposed to let their kids know that the mommies are the decision-makers—not the kids. Jayda’s “buddy” might let her stay up as late as she wants to at night; I most certainly won’t. In fact, I’m a stickler about Jayda’s bedtime. And though she’ll throw a tantrum now and then—or even shout “I don’t like you, mommy” in a fit of unhappiness—Jayda knows I take care of her—and I always will. And that’s the most important thing in the world to both of us.

Another difference between me and my gym friend is in our concept of teaching our children independence. An independent person doesn’t have to be a disconnected one. Just because I’m teaching Jayda how to take care of herself doesn’t mean I’m training her to never consult me about anything. Hopefully she can follow in my footsteps in that sense: In college, I was independent enough to travel to Australia to study for a semester…but I still “needed” to check in with my parents on the phone at least once a week for support, advice, or even just to share a good story. And now, I’m a mother, myself, raising my own daughter, but I still “need” my own mommy sometimes for help with a problem. Just because I know how to take care of myself doesn’t mean I have to do everything alone. That’s the kind of independence I think every woman should exhibit….and the kind I’m hoping to foster in my own daughter.

Similarly, I think an important part of being able to take care of oneself is knowing how to take care of others. And I’m raising my daughter to do just that. It’s another thing that I hope will keep our relationship thriving until I’m old and gray: Jayda and I take care of each other. Of course as the mother, I’m in charge of the big issues and responsibilities, but there are plenty of ways that Jayda can help take care of me…and she does. For instance, just the other evening, I asked my daughter if she was tired and she said, “No, mommy. Are you?” When I admitted I was “a little tired,” she instructed me to lay my head in her lap and “rest for a wittle while.” She even covered me with one of her baby’s blankets while she sang “Rock-a-Bye Baby” to me and stroked my hair (though I declined the binky she offered). It was a precious moment and I savored it for as long as I could. Then I got up and made us a healthy dinner—with a few M&Ms for dessert.

Some Things Never Change -- by Cara

When I read Jamie’s blog a couple days ago, I was taken back to the days when my son would fight going to sleep any chance he’d get. Back in the days of toddlerhood, nothing, and I mean practically nothing would cajole this boy to sleep. To make matters worse, he was a vomiter, so we couldn’t just let him cry for very long because my husband and I would be cleaning up from his display of irritation.

He also didn’t sleep through the night until he was almost 3. He’d wake up for water or just want to know someone was around, and I took over the “night shift.” Almost 3 years of non-consecutive sleep. To this day, I don’t know how I did it.

Actually I do know how I managed to catch up on my sleep. We signed him up for full-day Daycare. He had energy to burn at the Daycare and I would spend my day taking naps, which I continue to do now, years later.

I don’t know what kind of magic sleeping dust this Daycare sprinkled over my son, but they got him to take naps. During the week. And only during the week. On the weekends when we knew our son was tired, we would lay down in his room and try to get him to sleep, thinking if he saw us going to sleep, he would follow suit. Didn’t happen. We even invested in a thick exercise mat that either my husband or I would lie down on with him, trying to get him to sleep. That didn’t work either. He would end up climbing all over us, finding things to do. It could take up to and sometimes more than 2 hours to try to get this child to sleep!

I read every book available on how to get your child to sleep, tried every technique. I even called one author to see if I could make an appointment with her and pay $250 to have her help me get my son to sleep! Alas, she was booked 8 months ahead. I had to find a way on my own.

We eventually resorted to taking him on errands on the weekend and while he slept in the car, either my husband or I would sit in the car with him and just close our eyes.

My son is now 6. He rarely falls asleep before 10 pm and if he does, it is usually a clue that an illness is brewing. And he wakes up around 6 am. He is a true 8 hour sleeper, which means that I continue to be chronically sleep deprived because I always wait until he is asleep before I go to sleep. And I usually have at least a half hour of things that need to be done before I settle into the covers.

So, although he is growing and maturing every day, he remains the 8 hour sleeper. And I remain the chronic napper. I am so jealous of Moms who say, “Oh, it’s 7 pm...we have to get home so that Kevin can get his bath and be in bed by 8.” I laugh to myself, thinking, you don’t realize how wonderful it is that your child goes to sleep so early! But in my home, it just will never be.

What age do kids typically go away to sleep-away camp??

What Kind of Mom Am I? by Jamie Levine

I was a stay-at-home mom once – if you count the 3 ½ months I was on maternity leave. I was also a full-time working/commuting-to-the-city mom – for about 16 months after that. And right now? I’m not sure what I am. After my beloved children’s book buying job of 10 years was eliminated back in January, I started freelance writing and consulting to pay the bills. In the past few months, I’ve also picked up some coaching clients (I’m a certified life coach). And I’m always networking. Always looking for more work and/or another full-time job, while trying to decide “what to do with my life.” It’s pretty time-consuming figuring out how to support my daughter long-term, by myself. Thus, as I often joke, I’m the busiest unemployed person I know!

When I first lost my job, my immediate reaction was to keep my daughter in her daycare – but for shorter hours – because I didn’t want to “disrupt” her life. She loves it there and well, I love having the time to get my work done without worrying about her. But now, over six months later, it sometimes feels strange. Mind you, Jayda and I have plenty of “extra” time together now that I’m no longer commuting. She’s up at 5 a.m. (and so am I, by default) and I don’t drop her off at daycare until 8. That’s a lot of quality morning time! And when I pick her up at 4 p.m., we still have hours together to do things, eat dinner at the same time, and enjoy a lot of unrushed book-reading and cuddling before bed. I give Jayda plenty of attention, and we’re closer than ever. But I sometimes feel guilty for not keeping her at home with me all the time. I mean, it’s not like I have an office to go to every day.

The truth is, I don’t want to be a stay-at-home mom! I love my daughter…truly adore her. But being with her 24/7 drives me nuts! Especially when we’re just staying home or running errands. She’s a wonderful kid…but she is a toddler. A very intelligent, inquisitive, attention-needing, at-times-tantrum-throwing toddler. That’s why I keep us so active when she IS home with me (on weekends, holidays, etc.). I fill up our calendar as far in advance as I can, and run myself ragged going places and doing things with Jayda when we’re together. Because being at home alone with my daughter – and staying idle – makes me crazy.

Of course, financially, I’m not always sure Jayda’s time in daycare makes sense for us. Lately, I’ve been wondering if I should shorten her hours a bit more. But if I bring her in later in the morning, I lose my much-needed before-work gym time. And that’s what keeps me sane. And if I pick her up earlier, it cuts into her outdoor playtime with her friends. Also very important.

Am I being a spendthrift? Or worse – selfish? And what kind of mother can I label myself as now, anyway? I no longer truly identify with my full-time working-long-hours mommy friends…but I’m also not a stay-at-home mom, filling my days with play dates and Mommy & Me classes.

However, I do love our routine. I have just enough Jayda-time and just enough Jamie-time. And while Jayda’s face always lights up when I arrive to take her home from daycare, it does take us 15 minutes or more to get out of there. She’s too busy hugging all her friends, saying goodbye to her teachers, and simply, not wanting to leave. So, for now, I guess I’m just Jayda’s mom…a woman who’s trying to find her way professionally, working to stay healthy and sane, and most of all, is devoted to keeping her daughter happy and thriving. And I suppose that’s a pretty good kind of mom to be.

The Hellacious Day or Why Working From Home Isn’t Cake

Originally posted on WorkItMom's Entrepreneur Mom blog.

It is nighttime, but in Alaska, it is still light. I’m exhausted. Then suddenly, I remember that I forgot to post to this blog today. Where did the day go? And how did I run out of time?

If you are like me, working from home has its pros and cons. I still firmly believe that the positives greatly outweigh the negatives, however, if I look back at my day today, there were several times that working out of the home would have helped me get my work done.

By default, being in an office - especially with other people around - creates a different sense of urgency to your work, a need to adhere to the timelines of others, a strong sense of responsibility that others are depending on you and they are right there in the same office with you.

I’m not saying that because I work from home that I’m not motivated to do the work or that I ignore other’s people’s timelines or even that I don’t have a powerful sense of responsibility toward my colleagues and clients. But when I’m home, I can’t deny that the pull of life and family can sometimes be stronger than the needs of a client in another state or even another part of town.

If I worked in an office with others, I’d be torn by a pressing family need, however, I might not just drop everything at work and rush to take care of things. I’d set more boundaries. I’d have a steady schedule. Oh so I imagine.

To illustrate what I mean, here’s a sketch of my day today.

4:30am - Woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep. I was literally composing client proposals and blog posts in my head. “Go work on it if it will help,” said my husband. I did.

6:30am - Showered, made breakfast.

7:00am - Did some client work, answered emails, edited transcripts for my new podcast. Also Twittered off and on (would I be Twittering if I were at the office?).

8:30am - Baby wakes up. Feed baby. Wash baby. Dress baby. (Clearly if I were at the office now, someone else would be taking care of baby at this time or I’d have woken her up and she’d be at daycare by now.

9:30am - Made baby’s lunch, tried to get out the door for a good 20 minutes.

10:10am - Dropped baby off at daycare late. Rushed home.

10:30am - Did last minute promotions for a live event in Second Life with author Taran Rampersad.

11:00am - Moderated the live author chat in Second Life.

12:00pm - Finished editing podcast transcripts and printed them out. Set up baby’s bedroom as my makeshift studio because it is the only carpeted room in the house with the most things on the wall such as books and a zebra skin. (If I had an office, I’m sure I’d have a nice studio set up for podcasting, right?)

12:45pm - Check emails in between rehearsing podcast. The reporter from USA Today was trying to reach me to talk about my new podcast. I didn’t hear the phone ring at 12:30pm but there’s a message from her, too. Call her back immediately. (If I were in an office, I’d get her call, of course.)

1:15pm - Finish phone interview. Suddenly remember that I have an appointment with my acupuncturist at 2pm to address some bothersome health issues I’m having, and I haven’t started recording my podcast yet. Best laid plans. (If I were working in an office, I’d probably be scheduling my acupuncture appointments on the weekend rather than leaving work early. My health might end up taking a back seat to the work on my office desk.) Record my first podcast but cannot get to the second one.

1:55pm - Rush to appointment. Get a treatment and advice to get some blood work done through my nurse practitioner immediately.

3:00pm - Leave appointment and call my nurse practitioner. “Can you come in right now?” she asks. I quickly head across town to see her. (If I were working in an office and left mid-afternoon for an appointment, chances are I’d hurry back to the office immediately after and save a second appointment for another day).

3:45pm - Leave nurse practitioner’s office. What time is it? Time to pick baby up from daycare because husband will be at an all-day conference rest of week.

4:15pm - Pick up baby. Go to store for bread. Head home.

4:30pm - Clean up mess in kitchen from breakfast. Check emails in between, laptop on kitchen counter.

5:00pm - Start dinner. (If I worked in an office, I’d be leaving about this time.) Answer emails.

5:30pm - Husband home. Sneak a few more emails in then close computer.

6:00pm - Dinner with family. (This is a great thing about working from home - I’m always home for dinner.)

7:00pm - Fold laundry. Totally drained from the day. Chug Emergen-C vitamin drink. Try to lay down to rest.

8:00pm - Realize I forgot to post to this blog. Bring laptop to bed and start to write.

8:30pm - Must go find an image for blog post now. Want to go to sleep but every Tuesday night my husband and I watch a TV show together after the baby is in bed.

(If I worked at an office, I might bring work home with me. I might ignore my baby and my husband because the pressure to get the work done is too great.)

I’m almost done with my work today. I want to record my podcast but don’t think my brain will be able to handle it.

I can hear husband reading to baby in the living room.

I’m afraid I’m ignoring them.

The fantasy of working from home - the flexible schedule, the ability to spend more time with family - comes crashing down around me.