Putting those balls down

No, this isn't a man-hating post (har, har, I crack myself up... I hope you read my title, otherwise I'll just be looking like a total nutter right about now... maybe still?) ANYWAY.

No, this is a post about putting down the 'juggling balls' of motherhood. I hate to tell you this, but I'm SO sick of that expression that I just want to scream. The hysteria-inducing media talks about the 'juggle' of motherhood, my friends talk about 'keeping all the balls in the air', my friendly bloggers blog about 'dropping the balls'... if we stepped back and took a good look at our society right now, you'd think that mothers belonged in the circus.

Ask any real juggler and they'll tell you that juggling is lots and lots of fun but also the most stressful thing they'll ever do. Well, I only know one actual juggler, and that's what he said. "Juggling more than three balls is like trying to give 100% concentration to more than one thing at the same time," he said. "Yes, I know, that's impossible, but somehow you just make it work. But it's beyond stressful trying to focus on one ball while you're looking at another. The satisfaction of 'the catch' is solid, but gone in an instant. You catch, you feel the thud, then you throw it straight back in the air again."

"The satisfaction of the catch is solid, but gone in an instant" - how many of us can relate to that? We are only barely finished with one accomplishment before we're moving quickly onto the next. Our lives become moments of fleeting satisfaction, barely acknowledged.

Is it just me who thinks 'No freaking way. That's not how I want to live.'

If you feel like your life is a constant juggle, I think you need to put down the balls for an evening and really take stock of what you're doing with your life. While those balls are on the ground, you could give yourself a nice little foot massage with them while you think about things like:

What am I doing that doesn't really need doing?
What am I doing that I could be more efficient at?
What am I doing that someone else could be doing?
What do I need to do to make that happen?

I did this task many, many years ago. I was a juggler. I felt out of control. I had just gone back to work (in a new job) after my maternity leave with Cappers. I was terrified of all I needed to do and in a state of constant momentum. I didn't feel capable of being a wife, a mother of two under 2 who didn't want to sleep, a friend, a boss, a colleague, a daughter, a sister, an aunt and CEO of my own messy house. I felt physically sick from being wired on adrenalin 24/7.

I didn't make many changes. I'm still all those things, but I made small changes that helped me get a handle on it all. I still do those things today.

Things like not going to every social occasion I am invited to. Maybe not even going to any if I'd rather be at home doing something quiet with my family. Things like watching only one or two television shows a week instead of 4 or 5. Things like reading less books so I have a bit of time for blogging. Like building up a support network of people - both paid and friend - that works like a dream. Like hiring a gardener to help me keep on top of a space that's important to me. And doing my own cleaning because if I go hard for a couple of hours, that's a clean house and a work-out right there. Not reading silly women's magazines (okay, sometimes, but not always!); not seeking a promotion at work so I can contain my obligations there; not going on time-sucky and sometimes just plain sucky Facebook; spending as much time as I can outside; working really hard to not feel guilty about any of my choices if I know I did the best I could at the time.

The number one change I made, though, was the decision to not compare myself to what anyone else was doing. I don't want to keep up with those over-indulged, vacuous, aggressive Joneses any more. They can live the way they want to live, and I'll just be doing my thing over here.

You've got to let some of it go, because if you're living in a constant state of stress, something has to give. You can't sustain it. If your body manages to withstand the constant pressure, your mind certainly won't. You won't be happy, you can't be happy if you're constantly stressed to the max. When you're sitting there, taking stock, think about how many of those balls are weighted with other people's expectations. How many are ones you juggle to please others or to maintain a standard. They're probably the first ones you can get rid of.

This is your life, not a circus show. So, please, put down the balls.

Are you a juggler? Does it make you happy? 

What could you change in your life to make things easier?

[Image by toypincher]

That entrepreneurial thing you do

A little part of me has always wanted to open my own business. Doing what, I'm not exactly sure, but maybe a children's party service, maybe a cafe (not just a virtual one!), maybe really throw it all in and open some kind of gardening business. There's a romance in doing your own thing that really appeals to me; a great satisfaction in providing for yourself.

That's the little part of me.

The big part of me realises that entrepreneurial I am not. I have neither the stamina nor the self-discipline required to run my own show. Plus I'm much too needy; who would praise and compliment me for a job well done if I worked on my own? I couldn't rely on grouchy customers, surely?

That hasn't stopped my head from being turned by those Huggies 'mumrepreneur' grants (and not just because 'mumrepreneur' is just such a lame word). Have you seen what they're offering? $20,000 to help five lucky mummas realise their small-business dream. Imagine! I've been thinking up grand schemes for weeks, conveniently forgetting with every single dream that I am still myself and $20,000 isn't gonna change that! Although, now that I think about it, $20K is a whole lotta praise, right?!

But what about you? Do you fancy yourself as an entrepreneur? Could you imagine opening your own business? What would you do? I know many, many of you lovelies already do and I would be very interested to hear what made you take the leap and just begin.

[Image via weheartit]

Should more women be working full-time?

I've gotta stop reading the Sydney Morning Herald... or at, the very least, LOML has to stop sending me such thought-provoking articles. Monday it was the redhead thing, yesterday it was the women working part-time thing. Goodbye 'light hearted, easy on the eye' post, heeeeellllo 'WTF?' post.

The article proposes that because more Australian women work part-time, we lag behind the rest of the world in terms of equality on the domestic front. In Denmark (darn those pesky Scandanavian cousins that seem to get everything right!) the women mainly work full-time and both partners share the bulk of domestic responsibility. Here in Australia, with many of us working part-time, we're left picking up the domestic slack as well as beavering away at our working responsibilities. So, they conclude that the less a woman is at work in her job, the more likely she is to be scrubbing the floors or looking after children at home.

Cough. I'm just not sure how working full-time is going to help mothers improve this work-life balance. What did I miss?  I work part-time (4 days per week, Wednesdays at home) so I can spend more time with my children. So, if working part-time means I'm 'working harder' at that, then I'm very happy indeed. And hats off to mothers who take the 'no-time' approach and focus on their home and raising their children. I think the researchers who made some of these conclusions seem to have forgotten that 'childcare' is actually what's involved when you have children. Caring for children is kinda why we had them!! How can going out to work full-time possibly give you more of that sort of quality of life?

Contrary to popular opinion, the self-cleaning house is still a few years away. So doing the chores is part of the 'life' in work / life  balance whether we like it or not. It's the same amount of work involved whether we work full, part or no-time.  And (just quietly as I may get shot for saying this) at my place the reason the woman does the bulk of the housework is because the woman demands the bulk of the standards.

So, how can women working full-time give us more time to spend with our children and enhance our lives exactly? Comparing Australia with other countries and then assuming that work sits outside of cultural differences doesn't help anyone. Why not suggest that everyone starts working part-time instead? Because it there's one thing I agree with the research findings about, it's that both the men and women of Australia could do with a bit of a re-think on the hours they devote to their bosses!

What are your thoughts about all of this? How do you manage work and home - part-time or full-time? Or have you chosen to stop working to focus on home? Did your partner ever consider doing the same? Are you happy with your work /life balance? Will I ever stop asking questions?

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Mixing mamahood and work: a reply

Yesterday Kahli from little. lovely guest posted her 'Top 5 tips for working mums" over at Fat Mum Slim's. I started to write a comment in reply and then realised that my comment was growing and growing and, really, I should just write my own post and link on back.

So, what made my comment grow and grow?

Well, I had issues. As much as I appreciated where Kahli was coming from (and indeed, on investigation of her site, she seems more than a little lovely herself), I felt that many of her "top five tips" missed the mark for over-stretched, over-committed, over-it mummas. Here are Kahli's tips and my thoughts in reply:


1. Get organised. I’ve found the most important key to success has been organisation. The more organised I am, the less stressed I feel. Plan your weekly meals in advance, order groceries online and always organise as much as you can the night before to avoid a mad rush out the door.

100% agree with you, Kahli so, ah... moving right along.


2. Leave guilt behind. Guilt is often a working mother’s nosy neighbour, popping in when you’re busy, tired or simply feeling low. Try to leave guilt at the door. More often than not, it’s a sign you’re trying to be the best mother you can be and that’s all you – or anyone else – can ask for.

Seriously? A neighbour? Guilt is more like my permanent lodger, popping in all day, every day. I can't leave it at the door because it lives inside me. If I'm going to be a happy mumma and worker, I need to embrace the guilt and make it work hard for its keep. So if I'm feeling guilty about a particular thing, I don't ignore it, I investigate it and try to find ways to change things enough to keep guilt a happy camper.



3. Define work and play. If you’ve found yourself rocking a baby with one arm and responding to emails with another, try separating the two. When you’re working, work and when you’re mothering, mother. Otherwise you may feel you don’t either well. This might mean getting up early or working after your babies are in bed, but you’ll probably find you’re far more productive (and happier) when you do.

This one doesn't come up much for me as I mainly work away from home and when I do work from home my children are in their regular daytime places (school, preschool, with grandparents, daycare). BUT... in general I think the boundaries of 'work time is work time' and 'home time is home time' end up creating more stress than they hope to prevent. Of course they are going to blur - it's not work/life balance, it's just life. Mine changed for the better when I got a BlackBerry that meant that I can do after hours work where ever I am, if that's what I choose to do.

My advice to mums who do work from home and are stressed to the max is to question whether you really can be committed to two full-time jobs that require your attention at the same time. Look for loving childcare alternatives to help you make it work. Or ensure your work knows that you will be working from the hours of 7pm until 1am or whatever works for you. Otherwise, you're really not doing either your babies or your work a favour and it's not fair on anyone. Especially your little ones because if you're anything like me you really like the work you do and can get totally absorbed in it such that a little voice saying "Mummy can I" becomes like nails down a blackboard and it takes everything you've got not to snap bile at your little needy dearheart for interrupting your fun... Yes, I believe in the maxim "you can have it all, just not all at the same time."

As for getting up early to fit yet more stuff into your already over-burdened day, you must be joking, right?



4. Cherish your time off. We all know quality isn’t married to quantity so make your evenings and weekends sacred. Happy memories aren’t based on a catalogue of hours spent together, but rather what you did in the hours you had. The emails, washing and housework can wait.

Unfortunately, the emails, washing and housework really can't wait. If they wait they have a tendency to interbreed and create a giant overflowing inboxing, clothes wrecking, filthy mess loving beast who sucks the very life out of every household it encounters.

I don't know about Kahli, but there is no way I can just down tools and have a sacred evening or weekend as a family knowing that the beast is hungrily eating my house. So my advice here is to get the lot done as quickly as possible (cut any reasonable corner and speed a little - there are no traffic cops here) and then get out of the house for family time so that those little urchins of ours don't start feeding the monster again the second you've finished.


5. Be kind to yourself. Juggling work and the responsibilities of a family can be tough, so be kind to yourself. Take an extra long bath or buy a new magazine. And remember, it really doesn’t matter if your floors aren’t clean enough to serve dinner off. That’s what tables are for.

Be kind to yourself. Let the kids skip a bath or buy a new babysitter. And always remember that this is your actual life, not some weird dream you've found yourself in. So have a laugh whenever you can (laughing at the people with young children who are still trying to keep their floors clean would be a good place to start). That's what life is for.

Did you find Kahli's tips useful? Do you have other tips that might be helpful for over-burdened mothers?
 
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Are we women our own worst enemy?

I waxed lyrical about friendships on Monday. I went mental about the Sunday Life article (Jacinta Tynan, you are not my friend) on Tuesday. It's now Wednesday and I've just remembered an encounter the other day that has made me wonder even more about us women-folk. Sorry if my unintentional Women Supporting Women Trilogy is starting to bore you. Bear with me.

I was stumbling up the steps one Wednesday morning with The Badoo under one arm, Cappers hanging off the other, carefully shepherding Maxi-Taxi and his friend The Slowest Boy in the World into their classrooms. The Professor, a full-time career woman and mum of one of Maxi-Taxi's classmates who has barely given me a glance all year, said something she probably meant as light and funny, but I considered to be condescending. She said "look at you, drowning in children! It's why I only had the one child*, so I can go to work and be a real person sometimes."

After I finished punching her in the face 57 times, I managed to point out that actually (you arrogant bitch with the weird, flicky hairdo and boring corporate suit) I am a Real Person with an almost-full-time job who just happens to like drowning in children as well.

She was shocked beyond belief and stammered something about good work-life balance before scuttling off to do Far More Important Things. But the satisfaction I felt at being able to metaphorically pummel her senseless was very short lived. Why did I do that? I wondered. Why didn't I simply say that having lots of children to care for and spending as much time with them as I possibly can makes me a Very Real Person. The Realist kind of person there is, actually. Why did I feel the need to shrug off the SAHM tag (one she clearly thought was derogatory which I absolutely do not) in order to make my point?

I'm a bit of a SAHM in Working Mum disguise, I am. I'm not sure how this comes about, but thanks to my trusty Blackberry, I do try to manage my workload and hours so that I'm able to do a couple of drop offs and pick ups a week, a couple of canteen duties a term and a reading mum session every month. WMG also pushed me to put my hand up to be the Class Mum for Maxi-Taxi's class (apparently the very first Working Mum to take on the job). In addition, I dress super-casual for a city girl so they're probably all thinking "she couldn't possibly go to work in that outfit." But I think my biggest disguise is that I like hanging out with any kind of mum who'll have me and for a lot of Working Mums like The Professor, that just doesn't seem to be the case.

Now that I'm a Real Person with a job and all, The Professor is suddenly my new bestie**.

But the point is, I've infiltrated the SAHM camp, and I happen to know that they're a bit prejudice towards the Working Mum camp as well. They really are. I always feel just a little bit more WMG after a coffee with my SAHM lovelies. The never overtly spoken*** but implied judgement is that I'm not really raising my children or there for my children because I go out to work most days. A Real Mother stays home with the children. A Real Mother does the hard slog day in day out. A Real Mother. Ouch.

So I'm a bit torn between being a Real Person and being a Real Mother.

Truly I am. And I'm left asking: what is with the divide between "Stay at Home Mums" and "Working Mums"? I hate it. I don't feel it. I don't judge. I just think "whatever works for your family, whatever works for you" and I get on with bragging about the kids and bitching about the housework. What a wonderful world of mumming we'd cut ourselves off from if we only hung out with 'our kind'. It takes all kinds of women to be role models for our children and I hope I'm providing them with the right kind of balance. Not the "work and home" balance - but balance between knowing SAHMs and knowing WMs. You know, the important balance.

Have you noticed what I'm noticing? Do you think I'm being naive to think we should all be one happy family? How does it work for you?



* We will return to the Professor's 'one child' theory at a later date.
** Don't worry, I'm snubbing her nicely.

*** Oh, all right then, so ocassionally they just come right out and say it.

[Image by Ellen von Unwerth]

Brown paper packages, tied up with string

What did we do with Maxi-Taxi throughout the winter school holidays? Neither LOML or I could get time off work, so we prepared for lots of Holiday Care and WMG. Not so. We hadn't factored in the generosity of the Kinder Mum Brigade. Maxi-Taxi spent only 2 days out of 10 at Holiday Care, 2 with me, 1 with LOML and the rest in a variety of homes, all linked by kindness.

We made extra-special choc chip cookies (they have 3 types of choc bit plus mini-M&Ms) and took them along as a little thank you for having me.

It's amazing the difference in the way people live. One Thursday we drove up through the 'lawns' and parked in front of the 'staff quarters'. A horse wandered by. It was like walking onto the set of one of the house-porn shoots. To make matters worse, they're a really lovely family. I liked them so much before I saw their house.

The next home had a note on the front door 'I'm in my pjs, let yourselves in!' Place was a wreck. A child ate breakfast sitting on top of the table. Another child was in underpants only and promptly hid in the pantry never to be seen again. A motley dog wandered by.

No prizes for guessing which home I was more comfortable in.

Regardless of how or where or even what you live, we love you Kinder Mum Brigade. Thank you.


PS - This post is part of ♥Much Love♥'s [made it myself] week...

The loving links in my support chain

I'll apologise in advance for the loooong post, but there's a lot to say today.

About a week ago, as she returned to work after 18 months maternity leave, MulitpleMum wrote a fantastic post about being a working mother. It inspired to me think through what helps me manage the business of combining children and career.

Aside from being the reigning Mrs Organised Universe (read my previous post on getting three young children out of the house if you dare!) there is an even more important thing that relieves the strain of being a working mum. It's a mantra that working mums need to hear and believe at all times.

It takes a village, people.

If you're going to do the mum and career thing, you need a strong support chain either paid or friended. In a way, you need a support chain that can pick up the 'mumming' bit for you when you're at work or the 'worky' thing for you when you're being a mum. It's no good not asking for or finding the help you need. It's the support chain that gets you through thinking 'I'm lucky, grateful and managing' rather than 'I'm exhausted, worried and stressed'.
Our paid support chain is linked by nanny Annabelle, preschool, daycare, school and after school care (ASC). It's backed up with the loving 'friended' help from the children's paternal grandparents and uncle and our neighbours.

Annabelle does Monday and Tuesday pick ups from after school care and preschool / daycare. She works from about 4.15pm until 6.45pm and she's the reason I'm not tearing my hair out trying to collect children from three different places before 6pm. She brings them home and heats up the dinner I've left in the fridge. After dinner she starts baths which is generally about the time either myself or LOML gets home. So easy and worth every penny for the amount of stress she relieves on these two days. She's been with us for over a year and has seen The Badoo grow from a babe in arms to the cheeky little monkey she is today.

Preschool and daycare are obviously two other links in the support chain. I am fortunate that they are in the same lovely complex about 10 minutes drive from home. Cappers goes on Mondays, Tuesdays and Thursdays to the preschool area and The Badoo is in the daycare on Mondays and Tuesdays only.  It is such a nuturing, peaceful place (yes, it's actually peaceful at a daycare!) and they both absolutely love it.

Maxi-Taxi goes to ASC in a dedicated classroom and area at his school on Mondays and Tuesdays until 4.30pm as Annabelle isn't available to collect him at 3pm. He goes with his neighbour and friend, Sasha, and Annabelle picks up both of them and drops Sasha home on her way. Maxi-Taxi loves having an extra place at school to call his own and I enjoy knowing that the fantastic girls who run the centre are always there for him, anytime. They run a school holiday programme which Maxi-Taxi attends once a week in the holidays.

Most mornings before school, Maxi-Taxi goes to Sasha's place and Andrea, Sasha's mum, drops him at school for me. In exchange, I take Sasha to school and soccer training on Wednesdays, my home day.  You can proably guess by now that Andrea and her family are like an extension of our own family. We're so lucky we live in the same street (there's a sweet story about how we met which I'll post one day soon).

Another very important link in my support chain is LOML's family. My beautiful, family-is-everything Italian in-laws look after the children on Thursdays and Fridays. They've done this since the children were babies. Nonno collects Maxi-Taxi and Cappers from school and daycare on Thursdays and Maxi-Taxi from school on Fridays. On Friday Cappers and The Badoo are with Nonna and Nonno all day. On Thursdays when Nonna is at work (she's the much loved cook in a daycare centre four days a week)  it's just Nonno and The Badoo, gardening and cleaning together like two little peas. LOML's much younger brother, Guis, is Nonno's back up and he often steps in to do the pick ups.

The final link in my support chain is my work. I treat 'em mean, but I'm always grateful for the flexibility they offer me. Family really does come first. I don't work on Wednesdays and I work from home every other Friday (when I try to stack in all my conference call meetings so I can clean my house while I'm on mute!) I generally leave the office at a reasonable time and keep up from my Blackberry, which is a godsend. Plus I have two adorable "work husbands" (well, my gay work husband calls himself the mistress) who will step in occasionally to keep the work ship floating when the captain is offshore.

There you have it. Another complicated arrangement, I know, but it works for us as the beat of our week. And it's a rhythm that we are all happy to dance to.

Do you rely on a support chain? Have you ever found yourself with broken links that make your stress levels rise? What else do you do to manage?

[Sweet heart chain by Little Jane Street]

This Saturday I'm grateful for... bike couriers.

Here in Maxabellaland, Saturday is traditionally a sport, shop, sort the clothes, sweep the floors, strangle the Tsunamis (insert other 's' words here - no pun intended) kinda day. But on Maxabella loves... I thought it would be grounding to make Saturday my 'grateful' day.


This Saturday I'm grateful for...

1. Trumpet-blowing bike couriers in Martin Place. Whoever you are, I love the way you lean your bike against the tree, remove your trumpet from your courier bag and serenade the city with haunting solos every Monday morning. It makes me suddenly happy to be in the middle of the grey hustly bustle.

2. Heavenly Spa gift vouchers. Thank you LOML, I'm heading off in five minutes!

3. Bus drivers. The traffic's terrible, the people are nuts and the day is long. Thank you for safely bringing me home to my family every evening.

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The Maxabellaland Morning Routine for Working ParentsTM

Prepare to be dazzled by the Maxabellaland Morning Routine for Working Parents^TM (MMRWP). It is a modern miracle of engineering. The MMRWP has been tested on a prototype family group consisting of 1 adult male, 1 adult female, 1 schoolchild, 1 preschooler and 1 toddler.  Sadly it has yet to work on the Preschooler prototype who likes to sleep in, refuses all breakfast temptations and runs screaming at the sight of a hair brush (this is genetic).

The key to a successful MMRWP is that most of the action takes place the night before at The Launch Pad.^TM  The Launch Pad is a plain, brown leather with milk-smears and stale popcorn decorated couch in the family living room. Don't be fooled by its ordinary somewhat drab appearance. It is Ground Control for the MMRWP.

The night before Launch, Adult Male and Adult Female consult The Chart^TM and lay out every item of clothing to be worn or carried by the family group the next day. This includes clothing, handbags, hair accessories, shoes, school bags, stethoscope, library books, sports equipment, handcuffs, computer bags, phones, keys, letters to post, the lot. The Launch Pad has an annexe - The Fridge Shelf ^TM. Lunches needed for the morning are made the night before and kept fresh and ready in a basket on The Fridge Shelf.

So, if it's leaving Maxabellaland tomorrow, it's at The Launch Pad or The Fridge Shelf tonight.

On the Morning of Launch it's critical that everyone just gets on with the job and doesn't deviate from the important business of Getting Out The Door. When the children were smaller, it used to be fun to pretend to be rockets and get ready to whizz, whizz, whizz out the door. This suggestion would now be met with derision and cause mass panic and chaos. Lives could be lost. We keep it straight.

Adult Male wakes early and gets the Toddler her beloved 'bottiglia' (Adult Male is of Italian background so it's not quite as pretentious as it sounds.) School Child soon joins them and eats the standard breakfast of all young Aussie children, Weetbix and Milk. Adult Female drags herself down the stairs looking like a broken-down hag after a night on the turps. She promptly disappears into the bathroom to do things unknown and generally emerges looking not much better.

Whole family takes it in turns to try to rouse Preschooler from her slumber. Adult Male wants to spray her with water (a technique picked up from a nazi-mum on Wife Swap USA) but Adult Female resists. School Child wants to pummel her senseless but Adult Female resists. Toddler gets her nappy changed on top of the bed with much squealing, kicking and hysterical nappy throwing, but the Preschooler slumbers on. Under threats of being left behind to fend for herself and, dear god, tie her own shoelaces, the Preschooler eventually rumples herself out of bed and everyone takes it in turns to try to get her to eat breakfast. She consents to a mandarin, a nutritious, wholesome start to any child's day.

Family hits The Launch Pad and here the miracle MMRWP is realised. The Launch Pad focuses everyone and helps get them sorted. 10, 9, 8... Adult Male and Adult Female take turns assisting the prototype children to get dressed. 7, 6, 5... The Toddler insists on changing her shoes three times, four times, for the love of god just keep the damn shoes on, five times, not Adult Female's shoes your shoes, your own shoes, six times... 4, 3... clothes are on, shoes are tied, bags are hefted... 2,1... and before too long they are all ready and whizz, whizz, whizzing out the door. Just like little rockets... blast, I forgot to change out of my slippers!

All this and high-heels too?

This morning I got dressed for work. Involves changing clothes (usually), washing and moisturising face ($12.95 pump-pack Cetaphil convert), putting hair in (signature?) ponytail.

Then I chased the Tsunamis from one end of the house to the other getting them ready for school / preschool / Nonnos. Clambered artlessly onto chair to get something down from impossibly high kitchen cupboard. Did a quick once-around with the vacuum after The Badoo broke a string of beads. Raced up and down the stairs about 4 times because I am naturally forgetful and it's the only exercise I get somedays.

Bolted out the front door and down the front steps with The Badoo under one arm, computer under the other, Cappers backpack on my back and my handbag balanced seal-like on my nose. Landed a smooch on LOML as I opened the car door with my foot. Drove Maxi-Taxi to before school care (at the school). Walked up the steep path to school and down the steep path to school.

Drove to the train station. Ran from car to station. Fled up station stairs. Fled down station stairs. Leaped onto train. Skipped merrily from train station into work (as you do). And landed, seal-like at my desk.

Now, how would I have done all that in a pair of high-heels?

Or with manicured fingers?

How?

If I'd known it was a 24 hour posting... part two.

This afternoon, this is me. I don't want to bleat on about bloody annoying colleagues, so I won't. But I would just like to point out that the last time I had a decent conversation at work, Howard was in government. Maybe the two are related, maybe they're not, but I am postal.


Any new suggestions for reigning in wayward colleagues?

What I learned* this week including the benefits of procrastination

In a week of redheads, sister-lovin' and afternoon teas, here's my top 10 things to know.

1. Some people just aren't that nice, including (shock!) in etherspace.

2. Since "mede-tai" means happiness in Japanese, sea bream ("tai") is traditionally served at weddings. (For more utterly fascinating things to know about Japan, contact Maxi-Taxi whose class went Japanese for the 'World Cup Week' at school.)

3. It's possible to like OTT bitchy, gay males after all. Michael K over at dlisted is hysterical and not too annoying.

4. Not that I really care, but I when I learned that "Kendra Wilkinson believes her sex tape will make her a better parent" I had a little chuckle. Especially when she goes on to say "We're not going to have kids just because a sex tape came out. That's just stupid." Gold.

5. The kids clothes at Ivy Design are fall-in-love beautiful. Look out for The Badoo in the little number above come Springtime.

6. 'Jedi' is an official religion, with over 70,000 followers in Australia. A little concerning, maybe it could be the new Scientology?

7. LOML is a saint. (We really should get around to The Badoo's christening!)

8. Fancy hairdressers charge obscene amounts of money to essentially do something that Cappers does well. Cut stuff. Maybe Cappers can cut my hair next time...

9. Venus is the only planet that rotates clockwise. Thanks for jamming my head with this fascinating fact, Mirg. I especially appreciate the lecture about Venus not fitting in with the entire rest of the universe while Mars is fitting in just fine.

10. Companies such as 3M and Google have cottoned on to the amazing creative power of procrastination. A portion of every employee's working day is set aside to 'work on anything they like' (apparently most of the geeks play chess) and the distraction alone is often enough to get their creativity firing again. 3M estimate that this 'bootlegging hour'  produces up to 40% of new innovations for the company. Breathe again.

What did you learn this week?

[Image: Ivy Design]

* There's been some debate about whether this should be 'learnt' or 'learned' and I admit I've spent countless sleepless nights tossing and turning it inside my restless, weary mind. I think 'learnt' is old-school correct, but either is acceptable these wanton days. Mum? Anyone?

It's called a deadline, people. Dead. Line.

I'm tired. Dead tired. I'm tired because the Tsunamis won't sleep. And I'm especially tired because people are really bloody annoying.

I work for a large corporate in a glamourous advertising role (yeah, right). There are lots of projects so that means there are lots of timelines which means there are lots and lots and lots of deadlines. I'm cool with that. Aside from being a flaky, wishy-washy creative type, I'm rather efficient and organised and I thrive on structure.

I seem to be the only one.

I can't tell you how much of my day I waste chasing people.  They're all business as we set up a job, promising the world. But then, do they do what they say they'll do when they say they'll do it? Absolutely not.

I understand procrastination, I really do. On the home front, LOML and I have been getting around to selling our car for 2.2 years, buying a flatscreen for 1.5 years and baptising our third born into the (parental, Italian Catholic) faith for 2. The towel rack in the bathroom fell down 2 years ago and I've been meaning to buy an extension cord for the vacuum cleaner for about 5 years (we have moved house in the meantime).

So, I get the procrastination thing.

But not at work. Surely not there. Not when they're paying you and not when there are so many more interesting things we could all be doing if we just get the job done and go home. Oh wait, that's me. I forgot I work for a large corporate where working into the night is a lifestyle choice for some. Because if I'm really efficient I might get my work done on time and then what would I do? Go home to my family and friends? My colleagues are my friends.

Like, I said, people are really bloody annoying.

It's not about the drive

I'm off on an adventure. Alone. For four days and four nights.

Thanks to the enormous generosity of always-supportive LOML, I'll be driving down the east coast of NSW, then across to Daylesford in Victoria and back up to Sydney via Bendigo. It's a big drive and it may change en-route, but to be honest, it doesn't matter where I go, just that I go. Alone.

There have been two schools of opinion on this one. First there is the 'oh my god, I'm so jealous, I wish I was doing that' school. They get that it's not about the drive. It's about the opportunity to do what I want, when I want and for as long as I want.  If you ask me, when you're a wife and a mumma and at the end of some days you've done so much talking in your work and real life that you are literally all talked out, being alone is the ultimate luxury.

Then there's the 'don't you want to take a friend?' school.

Now, I'm a social creature, don't get me wrong. I come alive in large groups of people and I love to talk and talk and talk. Love sharing a story, having a cuddle, showing off, listening to a problem, debating the universe and sorting out just exactly what needs to be done about that Shari-Lea.

But I really, really don't want to take a friend.

Cheers to thinking uninterrupted thoughts and spur of the moment stop offs. To arrivals and departures whenever it suits me. To suddenly taking a left hand turn to see what's down the road.  To listening to the music that I want to listen to or to no music at all. To staying a bit too long at a gallery or lingering in a bookstore.

Cheers to the beauty of solitude.

[Image: photo-alchemy.co.uk]

Really, not particularly busy

I spend my days fending off well-meaning types who tell me I'm busy. Instead of asking 'how are you?' they say 'how are you, busy?'.  In 2010 it's like a mantra. There seems to be a fear that if you're not swamped, stressed and running around madly that somehow you're not doing it right. You're not interesting or worthy.

But, instead of joining the busy brigade, I feel like I'm pretty much under control and would adore the opportunity to answer 'I'm fine, how are you?'. I don't find that my life is a juggle or a struggle or even a muggle at all.

There's an assumption that when you're a 'working mum', you're going to be stressed out and bleeding. But it's actually the SAHM who do it tougher if you ask me.

At work, you get to sit down. At home your left butt cheek hits a chair and it's like you've pressed a 'mmmuuuuuum can you...' button.

At work you can eat your lunch without having to explain exactly what's in it. You don't have to share it. You don't have 3 pairs of eyes steadily watching you eat it. You just eat.

Most importantly, when you're at work, there is no one messing up your house.

The only time I think the WM has it busier than the SAHM is in the mornings. There is a lot to accomplish before 7.45am at our place and we need military-like obedience to The Routine if we're going to make it out the door on time. (Military-like obedience in preschool set? We are frequently late for work.)

It really is three quarters of an hour of insanely, tear-your-hair-out busy in my day and 23 1/4 hours of not so much. I think that's a win!

So, um, I'm fine, how are you?
[Image: Claro Cortes IV / Reuters]

When hormones make life decisions

I work for a large corporate in a reasonably full-on role. When I was pregnant with my third child I went through a frenzied, hormone-charged turn-around that went something like this...


I'm having another baby. My other babies are still babies. I'll have three babies. How can I possibly have three babies and work in the city in a 'big job'? They'll make me put the job first and then the three babies will suffer. My kids will be those kids with really cool stuff because their parents are trying to make up for the fact that they hardly know them. I used to envy those kids when I was a kid, but now I know that it's wrong wrong wrong. And what happens in the school holidays - ALL those school holidays - when the babies grow into bigger babies? Where will they go? For godsake, who will love them for 12 weeks of holiday time?

So, I decided to become a school teacher.

Yes. Throw away 15 years of successfully working in advertising - marketing and become a high-school English - Drama teacher (at least I would still have the hyphen...) earning approximately one third of the salary. But it seemed the only solution to the 3 kids / 3 o'clock pick ups / 12 weeks of school holidays dilemma that I faced.

I enrolled and did my first two semesters, managing uni, a 4 day a week job, the pregnancy and 2 under 3.  I handed in my 3 essays and 1 report 2 days before giving birth and did my half-yearly exams 8 days post-CS.

And then I woke up.

I never went back to uni and to this day I have NO IDEA WHAT I WAS DOING.

Frankly, in hindsight, I'm surprised they let us operate heavy machinery whilst pregnant. But understand that when I was pregnant it seemed like the most logical, sane thing in the world. I temporarily forgot that millions of women before me and millions of women after me manage the balance of work and family and that I can be one of those women too.

While pregnant, I forgot that I'm the sort of mum who will always, always put her children first and things would be much the same with three as they were with two. A little bit of give and take, but all of the time my kids are my number one priority and work understands that. I might not spend the amount of time with my children that other mothers do, but I'm comfortable that their lives are balanced, safe,  interesting and, most of all, uber-loving. They are happy little people.

I learnt very early on to park my work-ego at the door each day and just get on with the job so I can get home to my real life.  And that's a decision I would make even while pregnant.

[Image: Frank Maiorana]

The Dream

As a country-town raised city dweller, I always imagined that I'd return to country living once I had children. I couldn't even imagine how I'd go about raising kids in the concrete jungle. What would we do all day?

 

Oh god, surely not that...

Then I mummed 2 under 2 in the inner-city of Sydney and loved it. Walking out the front door with Maxi Taxi and Cappers rugged up, the 'big rig' pram whizzing in front, off to the library, or one of 34 cafes in reach, or the supermarket, or countless mates' places, or the pool, or 5 parks... you get the idea. I was in babyland heaven. In fact, I was so attached to striding out with the big rig that even my sister's place 3 suburbs over wasn't out of reach.  But then the bairns started to grow up and got bored in the pram after approximately 45 seconds. And frequenting the 34 cafe's with 2 toddlers running riot became more chore than treat. And I really wanted my own park, not a shared park I had to leave the house to get to. So once number 3 (The Badoo) was expected, we knew it was time to move to a bigger place with a proper garden.

And then I remembered The Dream. I pictured myself on a cute little acreage in my cute little cottage with my cute little family - growing vegies, raising chickens, exploring creeks, swimming in spring-water fed dams, dreaming idly on my shaded verandah as the odd goat wanders by.  There's gingham involved on some level. .

You know, The Dream.

But there was a seemingly insurmountable obstacle.  The LOML works in investment banking. And there just isn't a lot of investment banking going on in your average country town. So, unless he wants to become a bank manager (he doesn't) or a financial planner (so doesn't) or a newsagent (a what?) or something... we're City People.

Now, don't weep for me yet, I've tried to recreate the life I crave. We searched and searched and finally bought a place that's surrounded on 3 sides by bush, overlooks a beautiful national park valley and we can't really see our only neighbour. So, I've got the verandah, the large garden, a (non-spring-fed) saltwater pool, and a (usually dry) creek across the road. And there's a (kind of) 'town' (as opposed to trendy 'village') feel to the suburb we're in. We have a showground. We have a pony club. We have 3 competing primary schools (with the essential 'don't go there unless you live right next door and even then reconsider' school to discuss at the 'better' schools' morning teas) (more on this in a later post!). It certainly feels very country-in-the-city. It's 25 mins by train to work. Happy with that.

But you know what, it's kinda hard fitting in The Dream around commuting 4 days a week to a large corporate in the city and growing 3 kids who are aged 5 and under at time of writing. Really hard. But I'm going to keep trying.

Next stop... the chickens.

[Top image by Dottie Angel; other images found via weheartit]

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I rewound this post at the Fibro on 5.2.2011