To Cheat or Not to Cheat?

Like many woman, I had to search long and hard, through the river, through the woods, through rain, through snow, street after street, zip code after zip code to finally find him. The One. Not just any one, but THE one...and now...I am thinking of cheating.

My hair stylist is amazing, I love him. I wish he lived with me. It took me decades to find him. He knows me: my pension for the weekend pony tail, my hatred of straightening my hair too often, my desire to make my curly thick hair look thin and straight. He knows that I will often stretch every 12 weeks into every 15, he knows I do a weekly hair mask, he knows I am laid back, but yet not one for a change. He knows I didn't know how to use a blow dryer until high school. Seriously, Close your mouths, it's true.

For several months, I have been thinking about honey brown and red highlights for my thick main of dark brown, practically black hair. The same hair, that with the exception of added layers and length changes, has remained virtually the same since I was 14. I have thought about this so much, in fact, that lately I have really been convincing myself to go for it. Yes, me, the one who never does anything damaging, that prefers traditional dress, that will wear pearls with a dress, that owns the same shoes in multiple basic colors, that uses night cream at 33, is thinking about being daring with my hair.

But my very fabulous hair stylist works at a very pricey spa and doesn't color hair cheaply. So I am thinking about going elsewhere for this daring new look. The problem is, I only want to go elsewhere for color, not for my cuts. Inevitably, my stray will be found out like the husband who returns early from a business trip or the wife that shows up at the office late.

So, blog readers: do I talk to my wonder hair stylist about my cost fear or do I go someplace else and maybe make the most needed man in my life upset.

This is It

I sat in my car waiting for the kids to be dismissed from school. I was thinking of the million things I didn't yet accomplish for the day. I took a nap and that was a mistake, I lost out on valuable prep time for my return to full time work next week. I missed out on study time for my certification exam coming up. Why does dismissal get later and later I thought? I have so much to do. I have so much to do because I am going back to working full time.

Wait, I am going back to full time work. It was like I was just realizing this. I turned it over in my thoughts again. All of a sudden it was real, as if, for the first time I was now aware of it. I thought it again to myself. Then, it dawned on me, today is the 2nd last time I will be sitting in this parking lot waiting for the kids.

G and H came out first. They were deep in conversation about personalization of nouns. Last Friday, they were deep in conversation about Martin Luther King, Jr. I am gonna miss this, I thought. They are 6 months apart and in the same grade. They are like siblings.

T came out next and showed me his signed card saying he'd always wear his seat belt. The police department must have spoke to his class today. He was so proud.

On the way home, I reminded G he can only do the homework for that day, he can't work ahead. K, who looks like a pre-teen now, wait, she is a pre-teen..., said do you want me to make sure he doesn't work ahead on days I am here? No, I said, I will make sure grandpa knows and grandma too. OK she said. She's a mini adult, I thought.

We drove to grandma's. H was proudly saying she hasn't missed a day of school. T was saying he hasn't missed a full day. G was talking about dress down day on Friday. I looked over at K. I remember when she was born. It was 12 years ago Sunday. Where did those 12 years go, I thought? I looked in the rear view at G. He's 7. What will I miss?

Hi Ho Hi Ho It's Off To Work I Go

The last few months, I made no secret of my desire to return to full time work to the person who mattered most: my part time job boss. She made no promises, stated it was her wish and need, but if it happened it wouldn't be until March, but she couldn't guarantee, no promises, if we can budget it (you see the theme here). I wrapped my head around the fact that in March I would potentially have a full time offer. Since I have serious commitment issues (I passed out at my own wedding, my husband still brings this up)...I still job searched, but not heavily. I had a great interview with another company and was feeling good about things in general. Heck, 2011 was starting off very well and looked promising. (Cue the rainbows and butterflies now...).

Then last Friday, before I even had a full cup of my morning coffee (those who know me well, know the importance of this), I was offered a full time position to start asap. My first thought: it's not March. My second thought: I need study time. My third thought: I had a really great interview (cue the sirens... we have a commitment issue, someone call it in). My fourth thought: (which only came to my head when I looked at my boss, who was smiling and eagerly awaiting my response), I need this.

I function better with an overflowing plate of "to dos", I feel better about myself when I am taking care of myself (...and cue the sirens, Houston, we have a commitment issue...), I am a better person and a better mother when I feel complete. And the truth is... having a career completes me (ok so not as romantic as Tom Cruise in Jerry McGuire, but it's true).

So as of January 24, I will once again be working a full time job and life will return to "normal"...

...or will it. Stay tuned.

Coffee with My Early 20s Self

I often over hear young women talking at the mall, a restaurant, or at a bar about their lives: The ups and downs, the dating, the lack of dating, what they wish they had, how awful their parents are, if they could just _____ (fill in the blank with pretty much anything).

Truthfully, these conversations make me feel wise for my age (that's a nice way of saying old). I smile to myself thinking back to when I was their age, so often I want to say _____ (fill in the blank with some uncool parental advice).

If I could have coffee with the me of my early 20s (well, she'd probably order a Blue) I'd have a lot to say:

1. Don't lose sleep over not having it all figured out, that's impossible, and it will work out.
2. That the credit card debt racked up during and post college that keeps her up at night, will be paid off (she'll enjoy a great night out in celebration when the last payment is made).
3. One day her mom will be her friend (I may have to administer the Heimlich to keep her from choking when I mention this one).
4. To not only respect herself more, but to expect respect from others, she's worth it.
   
5. That she's stronger than she thinks and the years to come will show her just how resilient and strong she really is.
6. That the ER trip to the emergency room when she's 7 months pregnant, will result in everything being fine.
   
7. That her true friends will always be there for her and she'll see just how much as they become more like family.
   
8. That any man that makes her cry instead of holding her when she does is just a boy and not worth her time. (even if he looks good in faded jeans and is a great kisser, especially him).
   
9. To enjoy coming home to a silent apartment (some day she'll think about checking into a hotel for the same peace, and one weekend she will).
   
10. That true happiness really does come from within. (an occasional glass of wine helps).
11. That one day she'll not only use that crock pot, but wish she had another (and then a 3rd).
12. That a hot bubble bath with lavender salts, a good book, and a glass of wine will be a happy replacement to standing in line outside during the winter in a mini skirt to pay a cover charge.

Now about that bath...

1950s Housewife or Corporate Climber?

When I was young, I rarely played with dolls, and after two paid babysitting gigs I decided it wasn't for me. I remember my friend R sleeping over one night, and in the morning before we left for our excursion, she suggested we feed our Cabbage Patch Kids and dress them in new outfits. Really, I thought? Our friendship survived, but I never played Cabbage Patch Kids with her again.
When I was in college, I started thinking about a career and travel. I never thought about having kids. I thought about what city I'd move to, and how long it would take to get out of a cubicle and into an office. I figured after I was settled in my corner office with a water view, I'd adopt a child in need because I'd be too old to have my own.
At 25, I found out I was pregnant. I became tied to a demanding job and a demanding baby. Later, I was tied to a long commute, a demanding toddler, and graduate school. Then I was tied to a blackberry and an ever argumentative, very smart, adjusted pre-schooler. I wore every hat imaginable (and some really cute shoes). I thought nothing of working at 2am (or getting on the treadmill or doing laundry) and would never leave home without my blackberry. Have a mortgage to pay I would say.
Then on July 15, 2009, my job was eliminated. I became a stay at home mom by default. I cried for days. Who was I, if I didn't have a job?
I found out after months of struggle, who I was. I was the same person I had always been, my job didn't define me. I spent the entire year of Kindergarten with my son. It was the best year, I could help in the classroom, I became friends with other moms, the kids in my son's class knew who I was. I proudly became a soccer mom, a baseball mom, a classroom helper mom, my house was never cleaner, my yard never better.
A year later, I returned part time to a job that was much better suited for my career path. I kept looking for full time work, and the phrase "when I return to full time" became a constant.
I had the best of both worlds.
Last night, out of nowhere my son spiked a high fever, tears streamed down his face. He hurt, he was hot, he was cold. I was up with him a few times during the night. I went to work tired. I stared out of my office window and thought how much I should be home. I knew my son was in good hands with my husband (he's actually a nurse), but that's my job I thought. I am his mom I thought. Does he still have a fever? Has he had any food? Is he watching cartoons or sleeping?
I rushed home after work, ran to my son. Mom he said, will you hold my hand. Yes, I said, I will even feed you and get you new clothes.

Off to the Blogging World...

I always operate with a full plate, take on too much, run myself ragged...wear so many hats...so I thought why not add to that and start a blog? So many people have been telling me to do so, and normally I don't do as I am told, but it's a new year, right? So here is what you can expect...

1. Randomness...I have very random and sometimes deep random thoughts and I plan on sharing them. You've been warned.
   
2. Laughter...I have a child who is hysterical. I'm completely aware that most of you will read this only for the child stories.
   
3. Working mother stories and struggles...don't worry they will be random and full of laughter...at least half the time.
4. Miscellaneous...this is my version of the job description section that says "and other duties as needed or assigned".

And so it begins...

I have a lot to do today, laundry (what else is new), quick house clean up, workout, study for a certification exam I am taking at the end of the month. But here I sit typing my first blog and eating cottage cheese (small curd all the normal fat). In the back of my mind is a worry. A big worry... the donation items needed to be put out by 8am and I didn't get them out until 8:10...what if they already came. Well, fingers crossed...