Daily Adventures of a Working Mother

If you have been following my blog, you know by now that I have two children:  A daughter who turns 5 in the spring, and a son who is 20 months old.  My son is full of rambunctious, little boy antics, and you have read several accounts of his escapades in my blog.  I have not, however, given sufficient insight into the world of my amazing little girl.  I thought about why this is the case, and have come to the conclusion that my little beatle's stories are precious, delicate pearls next to the flame of her brother's blazing rubies!  So!  I have decided to dedicate this entire entry to capturing the wonderful snippets that make being with my daughter so rewarding. Stories of a Beatle Bug: A few days ago a certain family member had just spent some... quality time... in the bathroom, and left rather an aroma in the wake.  My daughter bee-bopped down the hall, and bounced, humming, into the bathroom.  A moment later, she walked back out, hand over...

I remember distinctly the day I first realized my child was weird.    I went to school to pick up my daughter, who was almost 2 yrs old at the time.  The director of her school was in her classroom.  As I was gathering my little girl's belongings, the director said to me, "Okay... I just have to know how you do it." "Do what?" I said with a chuckle. "How do you get her to eat brussell sprouts???" "Um...," I thought for a moment. We didn't do anything special really, "We just feed them to her, and she eats them," I chuckled, beginning to recover myself from the surprise of the question.  "We eat them, and no one has ever told her NOT to eat them, so... she eats them."  The director smiled and shook her head, blonde hair swaying slightly, "In all the years I have been doing this job, I have never, EVER seen a child who would not only eat brussell sprouts, but ask for MORE!"  Parental pride began to swell i...

My grandmother was a fount of extremely USEFUL information.   She could fix things, grow things, cook things, and sew things, and somehow manage to make it all look effortless and fun.   There is one skill that my grandmother had that, above all others, I wish I knew:   My grandmother could diagnose an illness almost as well as any doctor around.   I remember being sick with a sore throat once.   She looked at my throat, it was red.   She felt my throat, swollen glands.   She asked me if it hurt to swallow.   I told her it did.   Then, she did the craziest thing I had ever heard of:   She handed me a slice of lemon & told me to bite into it.   I looked at her like she was crazy, and she laughed at me.   “Go ahead.   Bite into it.”   I bit.   The lemon tasted awful, but it also hurt!   I must have made a face, because she asked me, “You okay?”   I nodded.   “Sour?”   I nodded.   The...

My new assignment has brought me back into my old stomping grounds.     For the past three weeks I have avoided getting too close to my old home; not being quite sure how I would feel.   Today, I ventured out.   I needed gas in the car, and did not want to stop at the Shell station on the corner (they have taken 3-4 days to post transactions to my checkcard the last 2 times I’ve been there).   I drove a mile or so down the road, and cut across the road that joins the two major thoroughfares in the area.   Turning right onto the state route, I saw all the familiar images from days not so long ago:   There is the church I used to pass every day, the “new” gas station (where I decided to stop), and across from the new gas station, the Wendy’s I used to frequent.   In my mind, I knew that if I drove up the hill beside the Wendy’s and turned left at the light, I could be at my old house in 7 minutes flat.    It was a lovely, sunny day, a...

My son likes cars.   Actually, he isn’t limited to just cars, trucks, trains, and busses also fit his criteria.   It doesn’t matter if they are pink, green, or have polka-dotted flowers on them, if they have wheels (his toy train has wheels) and can be pushed, pulled, or rammed into something he loves them!     His vehicle of choice is one of those “multi-use” toys.   You know, the kind you can walk behind and push or you can sit on it and scoot yourself around.   It’s white with a blue handle/backrest and a bright red seat, and flashing red lights on top.   At first glance, my husband and I both assumed it was either an ambulance or a police car.   Then, my son pushed a button, and the music began to play.   No… not a siren:   music.   Upon closer inspection, the “G-ride” was not an ambulance; not a police car.   Nope!   It’s an ice cream truck!!   J   Don’t knock it or you might lose a toe!    In the ...

My daughter and I were invited to attend a really cool event Sunday:   an afternoon tea party!   My darling 4 yr old was thrilled!   My mother had clued me in that an invitation was in the mail, so before we even received the official “please come”, my little princess and I went shopping for her dress.   We ended up with a gorgeous, frilly confection:   Empire waist dress, with eggplant purple velvet bodice & bolero jacket, a skirt in cream-colored taffeta with a tulle overlay embroidered with bouquets of pansies.   Complete the ensemble with textured cream tights, little black Mary Jane dress shoes, and a bright green bow in that enviable mass of dark blonde hair, and you have one adorable little girl (if I do say so)!   And this was WEEKS ahead of schedule.   Over the next couple of weeks the tea party was a frequent topic of conversation: “Mommy, when is the tea party?” “The tea party is in two weeks, Sweet Pea.” “Mommy, am I going to wea...

Ah!   February: The most-hated month of the year (at least for anyone living in the northern hemisphere in a non-tropical area).   Think about it:   February is the last (and typically coldest ) month of winter.   The weather is usually terrible, the sun has been obscured for so long, that even people who do NOT suffer from seasonal depression are starting to get twitchy from a lack of vitamin D, and it is so close to spring that you can almost touch it (dangling like a carrot on a string you can never reach!).   I mean, c’mon, February is so drab and dreary that people invented holidays, just to give people something to do (and if that means spending loads of cash on meaningless, overpriced nothings, I guess it’s a win-win for The Bored and The Economy).   Thank goodness February doesn’t last very long (can it really be pure coincidence that this month is a few days shorter than most- maybe it has always been the bane of humanity?)!   February is als...

I hate drama.   Drama is only good for one thing:   It provides an easy topic of conversation for people who either don’t really know you, or don’t care enough about you to ask about the “real” things happening in life; they just want the gossip.   Otherwise (which I can happily say comprises about 95% of my life), drama is not only completely useless, but completely exhausting ; making it a total waste of my time.   So… I hate drama. What I hate more than drama, though, is when my family becomes the key topic of said drama.   Unfortunately, this has been, decidedly, the case in the last 3 months!    Between housing issues and illness, we have had one major issue right after another.   Mama is tired! J   From November 22, 2010 to now, we have moved twice, had a house riddled with problems (termites, electrical issues, water main breaks, a leak inside, code violations for the dryer hook-up, and was, literally, 49 degrees inside when we would ...

I love my house.   I was standing in my kitchen the other day admiring the way the sunlight gleamed off the shiny countertops & made the bottles on the windowsill sparkle.   I turned to look into the dining room, where the twinkling lights of the chandelier created a sense of warmth and welcome.   My mind snapped a photograph of my son riding down the hall on his little ice cream truck toy, the red, blue and yellow decorations a stark and lovely contrast to the white walls as he rolled through the delicately arched doorway on the opposite side of the dining room; the smile on his face challenging the gleam of the chandelier for brightness.   Yes… I love my house, which makes it all the more difficult for me to admit any of its faults.   I am, however, noticing one seriously GLARING deficiency. It isn’t what you would think.   It’s not the bathroom with the pink & black tile walls, the grey linoleum stick-down tile floors, and the grey vanity (a la G...

COFFEE:30 It’s a term that is fairly common in the corporate business place; even recently being used in a national ad campaign for an energy drink.   And for those who have never heard of “Coffee:30”, it appropriately brings to mind, in a humorous way,   the image of the beleaguered worker who just needs a bit of caffeine to make it through the rest of the day.     “Coffee:30” typically takes place in the afternoon, between 2:30 and 3:30 (for a standard 1 st shift day), and is the time of day when people in the office start to lose their steam.   The day is almost over, and the train is almost to the station… just need that last little jolt to make it through ‘til quitting time.   You will see people stand up in their cubes, stretch, grunt, sometimes even give it the “dog shake”, and declare, “Man!   I think it’s Coffee:30.   Wanna go grab a cup?”   A couple of co-workers will, invariably, jump on this bandwagon, and off they go to caffeina...

Here’s a really profound statement:   Life after kids is so different than life before kids.   Really??   *GASP*   You’re kidding!   Okay, okay… all joking aside, I think it is fair to say that the above statement is generally accepted, by both parents & non-parents, as true.   Life IS different once you have kids.    Now, when people talk about this difference, more often than not, the primary topic of conversation is how your social life changes once you have kids.     Before kids, if there was an after-hours office function, you could just tell your spouse where you would be & when you’d be home (courtesy).   Before kids, if one of your girlfriends was having friends over to make Christmas Cookies & other fun, silly holiday stuff on a Tuesday night, you could go without worrying about a sitter.   Before kids, you and the hubby could plan dinner and an evening out with friends whenever you chose.    Li...

I loved watching Leave It To Beaver as a child.   It seemed like such a peaceful way of being.   June Cleaver was a truly remarkable woman:   She reared 2 boys who, while they got into their fair share of scrapes, were generally respectful, kind and fun to be with.   Her house was immaculate; Dust Bunnies Union Chapter 114- duck & cover!   She always had a nice hot meal ready for her family, and, the real wonder of wonders, she was always the picture of perfection:   Perfect figure (no telling THAT mommy had birthed two boys), perfect hair (how do you manage to do the housework & keep away the frizzies??), flawless skin (does the woman bathe in milk & honey?), and always a perfect answer to any question, whether from her husband or her children.   Yes… June Cleaver was my hero as a child.     My perspective as an adult is somewhat … different… Now… don’t get me wrong, in some ways, I do June Cleaver proud.   I am a pretty d...