Charlie, my oldest (age 6) has pneumonia. The coughing is so bad at night he has been barfing. Poor baby, we have been letting him sleep with us. We gave him cough medicine and he climbed into our bed between us.
I said "Don't worry, honey, your cough will go away soon" to which he replied "I hope your breath goes away soon."
The next night he wanted to sleep on the other side of Daddy. Coincidence? I think not.
Monday, February 25, 2008
Saturday, February 16, 2008
Shrinking Boobs
My guilty pleasure is courtroom shows. I watch Judge Judy, Judge Cristina, Judge Joe Brown, and my favorite, Judge Mathis in the basement while I fold laundry. I will never forget watching one of these shows when I first started staying home and one of the defendants was Aquanetti Jones. I swear.
Anyway, the commercials during these shows are focused toward the demographic the advertisers assume to be watching tv at that time. There are ads for truck driving schools, how to become a dental assistant in three short months, or air conditioning repair.
One day I was stopped short of balling up a fitted sheet by the following ad, which I think is not only very applicable to most moms I know, but also the funniest I have ever seen. Enjoy.
Anyway, the commercials during these shows are focused toward the demographic the advertisers assume to be watching tv at that time. There are ads for truck driving schools, how to become a dental assistant in three short months, or air conditioning repair.
One day I was stopped short of balling up a fitted sheet by the following ad, which I think is not only very applicable to most moms I know, but also the funniest I have ever seen. Enjoy.
Thursday, February 14, 2008
V-Day
Churches refer to it as The Feast of St. Valentine. There was the St. Valentine's Day massacre in 1929. Many associate V-Day with Victory Day that was celebrated when Germany was defeated by the allies in World War II . Many others, more recently, associate V-Day as a global movement to promote the awareness and prevention sexual violence toward women and girls, as inspired by the award-winning play by Eve Ensler, The Vagina Monologues. Others refer to Valentines Day as V-Day, but even those people do not consider V-Day the single most important day of the year. A day for which a year's worth of preparation is done; a day that makes or breaks the business. That is, unless you work for The Largest Lingerie Brand in the world (which will hitherto be referred to as LLB).
The success of the product at LLB impacts the enjoyment of those celebrating Valentine's Day all over the world. Seriously, the world. We're talking billions of dollars here. The process starts the day after the previous year's V-Day. People go to Europe and east Asia (among other places) in search of fabrics to imitate or to bring inspiration. I know of one man who drove a jeep to a desert town to go to the market to check out fabrics. Often a new lingerie line is introduced at V-Day, frequently at a Very Famous Fashion Show. Sometimes a new miracle fabric is introduced that effects the future of lingerie as we know it. This is the company that made the thong a household name. There is always a "launch" of a new fabrics, silhouette or color palette, all for V-Day. Then, once all the design is complete, the orders go to the factories in places like Egypt and Pakistan. Women are paid a dollar a day make panties and bras. Those units are shipped to LBB, on a very precarious time table in order to minimize shipping costs.
My job at LLB was at the end of the line. I supervised the people who decided how many units of each style, each color, and each size went to over 800 stores. I developed a system that assisted in that process being a precise as possible, in how many we ordered at well as to which stores they were shipped. The bottom line is this: you wanted to sell as many as you can, without running out. This is called sell-thru. Our goal was 98% sell-thru. If it was 100% then we knew we could have sold more. Any less and we'd have too many left over we'd have to sell at a reduced price. All of this, every single decision, business goals, even jobs hinged upon this one day, which we referred to as V-Day. At this point I am boring you, so I will get to the crux of my anecdote.
One day, in late winter, I was newly pregnant and walking across the enormous parking lot, probably talking on my cell phone about something that just couldn't wait three minutes until I got into the building. At that point I was on the fence about whether or not to stay home once the baby was born or go back to work. I remember glancing over, and saw a bumper sticker on a pick-up truck. The truck probably belonged to someone poor bloke who worked in the distribution center and had been working 12 hours a day, 7 days a week, for 14 days to get the product out in time for V-Day. I assume he was an EMT in his spare time or something (sorry I am making the assumption here that the truck belonged to a man). The bumper sticker said "I save lives, what do you do?"
I thought, Oh my God, I sell underwear.
I sell underwear. Images of playdates, minivans, soccer games, healthy meals at home all rushed through my head. The scales were tipped at that point.
The final decision was not made until one autumn day when Charlie was six weeks old. As I nursed my son I watched two airplanes crash into two skyscrapers in New York City. My husband had gone to a meeting in one of the towers not too long before. My mind was made up.
I make no judgments about the decisions others make. I wish there was a way I could work without a nanny or daycare raising my children, but I cannot be two people. You never know what direction your life will go so assume nothing. However unexpected it was, I think I made the best decision for my family… and for me.
The success of the product at LLB impacts the enjoyment of those celebrating Valentine's Day all over the world. Seriously, the world. We're talking billions of dollars here. The process starts the day after the previous year's V-Day. People go to Europe and east Asia (among other places) in search of fabrics to imitate or to bring inspiration. I know of one man who drove a jeep to a desert town to go to the market to check out fabrics. Often a new lingerie line is introduced at V-Day, frequently at a Very Famous Fashion Show. Sometimes a new miracle fabric is introduced that effects the future of lingerie as we know it. This is the company that made the thong a household name. There is always a "launch" of a new fabrics, silhouette or color palette, all for V-Day. Then, once all the design is complete, the orders go to the factories in places like Egypt and Pakistan. Women are paid a dollar a day make panties and bras. Those units are shipped to LBB, on a very precarious time table in order to minimize shipping costs.
My job at LLB was at the end of the line. I supervised the people who decided how many units of each style, each color, and each size went to over 800 stores. I developed a system that assisted in that process being a precise as possible, in how many we ordered at well as to which stores they were shipped. The bottom line is this: you wanted to sell as many as you can, without running out. This is called sell-thru. Our goal was 98% sell-thru. If it was 100% then we knew we could have sold more. Any less and we'd have too many left over we'd have to sell at a reduced price. All of this, every single decision, business goals, even jobs hinged upon this one day, which we referred to as V-Day. At this point I am boring you, so I will get to the crux of my anecdote.
One day, in late winter, I was newly pregnant and walking across the enormous parking lot, probably talking on my cell phone about something that just couldn't wait three minutes until I got into the building. At that point I was on the fence about whether or not to stay home once the baby was born or go back to work. I remember glancing over, and saw a bumper sticker on a pick-up truck. The truck probably belonged to someone poor bloke who worked in the distribution center and had been working 12 hours a day, 7 days a week, for 14 days to get the product out in time for V-Day. I assume he was an EMT in his spare time or something (sorry I am making the assumption here that the truck belonged to a man). The bumper sticker said "I save lives, what do you do?"
I thought, Oh my God, I sell underwear.
I sell underwear. Images of playdates, minivans, soccer games, healthy meals at home all rushed through my head. The scales were tipped at that point.
The final decision was not made until one autumn day when Charlie was six weeks old. As I nursed my son I watched two airplanes crash into two skyscrapers in New York City. My husband had gone to a meeting in one of the towers not too long before. My mind was made up.
I make no judgments about the decisions others make. I wish there was a way I could work without a nanny or daycare raising my children, but I cannot be two people. You never know what direction your life will go so assume nothing. However unexpected it was, I think I made the best decision for my family… and for me.
Monday, February 11, 2008
Now That's Commitment
WARNING - TOO MUCH INFORMATION AHEAD
I had dinner Saturday night with my good friend Melanie. Before we had kids she and I worked for different brands of the same retail mogul. What I didn't know is that she didn't resign until her second son was born. That means working in a very demanding business, with travel, for two years.
I breastfed each of my boys for a year. I enjoyed the intimacy with my babies and the satisfaction of providing them sustenance. I left them for no longer than 3 hours at a time (at least when they were infants) because that was how frequently they needed to nurse. However, at least with my first baby, the first six months of breastfeeding were filled with excruciating pain for me. He latched on properly from the get-go, but I was plagued by yeast. I basically had thrush on my nipples and in my glands for about six months. When we first began a nursing session, I would actually have to do Lamaze breathing or cry for the first few seconds because the pain was so bad. I had one particular embarrassing moment when I had to ask the young male pharmacy assistant where the Lotrimin was located. He asked "For what?"
Then one day I found an article buried deep within the internet that said one Diflucan a day would solve the problem. Diflucan is the pill that is used for vaginal yeast infections. My insurance company only covered one pill per month. I needed one per day. I actually went to battle with my insurance company, using the article as evidence. I won.
Back to Melanie. First of all, I give her credit for trying to work and take care of her baby. It's a huge balancing act. Well, Melanie also breastfed her baby. A lot of woman who nurse at work have horror stories about trying to pump in the restroom (yuck), or hiding in their office. Many women have to give up breastfeeding altogether because there is no option to pump in their particular job. Mel obviously worked in an office, and used a double pump. In our company it was protocol to allow women to pump in the first aid room. As she describes it, she would have to schlep her Medela bag to the front desk, get the entry code, and walk back. She said quite frequently the code didn't work and so she'd have to do the whole thing all over again. Then they decided it would be more efficient for the security guy to escort her. She tells of one time when she was double pumping when the security guy, who had forgotten she was there, came in and tore back the curtain. I would have resigned on the spot.
This is not even the extent of Melanie's commitment. Before she had her baby, she had traveled as far as Asia for work. The first request for travel after her baby was born was to New York. Not far, but far enough when you are breastfeeding a baby. The solution ...drum roll please... was that she would pump and FedEx her breastmilk home overnight. At least the company paid for it.
I had dinner Saturday night with my good friend Melanie. Before we had kids she and I worked for different brands of the same retail mogul. What I didn't know is that she didn't resign until her second son was born. That means working in a very demanding business, with travel, for two years.
I breastfed each of my boys for a year. I enjoyed the intimacy with my babies and the satisfaction of providing them sustenance. I left them for no longer than 3 hours at a time (at least when they were infants) because that was how frequently they needed to nurse. However, at least with my first baby, the first six months of breastfeeding were filled with excruciating pain for me. He latched on properly from the get-go, but I was plagued by yeast. I basically had thrush on my nipples and in my glands for about six months. When we first began a nursing session, I would actually have to do Lamaze breathing or cry for the first few seconds because the pain was so bad. I had one particular embarrassing moment when I had to ask the young male pharmacy assistant where the Lotrimin was located. He asked "For what?"
Then one day I found an article buried deep within the internet that said one Diflucan a day would solve the problem. Diflucan is the pill that is used for vaginal yeast infections. My insurance company only covered one pill per month. I needed one per day. I actually went to battle with my insurance company, using the article as evidence. I won.
Back to Melanie. First of all, I give her credit for trying to work and take care of her baby. It's a huge balancing act. Well, Melanie also breastfed her baby. A lot of woman who nurse at work have horror stories about trying to pump in the restroom (yuck), or hiding in their office. Many women have to give up breastfeeding altogether because there is no option to pump in their particular job. Mel obviously worked in an office, and used a double pump. In our company it was protocol to allow women to pump in the first aid room. As she describes it, she would have to schlep her Medela bag to the front desk, get the entry code, and walk back. She said quite frequently the code didn't work and so she'd have to do the whole thing all over again. Then they decided it would be more efficient for the security guy to escort her. She tells of one time when she was double pumping when the security guy, who had forgotten she was there, came in and tore back the curtain. I would have resigned on the spot.
This is not even the extent of Melanie's commitment. Before she had her baby, she had traveled as far as Asia for work. The first request for travel after her baby was born was to New York. Not far, but far enough when you are breastfeeding a baby. The solution ...drum roll please... was that she would pump and FedEx her breastmilk home overnight. At least the company paid for it.
Saturday, February 09, 2008
Turn the Radio Off
On the weekends my kids often get up at 6:30 in the morning. They play quietly (and sometims not so quietly). School days, however, they have to get up at (poor babies) 7am.
We have tried everything to help my kindergartener get out of the bed for school in the morning. We tried a dawn simulator, but it didn't even come close to waking him up. We tried rousing him ridiculously early so he plenty of time to gradually wake up. That meant I had to wake up ridiculously early. We tried startling him awake, just short of throwing cold water on him. One morning I was shaking him awake and he yelled "I'm sleeping!" He often groggily mumbles "I don't want to get up," to which I reply "I don't either."
Finally we thought it might be a good idea to set his alarm clock to "wake to music." I thought NPR might be a good station, then second guessed myself because of all the talk of war. My husband, who is a huge classical music fan (second only to hip hop), suggested the local classical music station. Evidently we didn't think about the fact that even the classical music station breaks for local news and weather.
"Mom!" Charlie screamed from his room one morning.
"What?" I babbled through my toothpaste.
"There's been an accident!"
Well, we live close to the intersection of two fairly busy streets, and occasionally there is an accident there.
I spit in the sink and ran downstairs to find Charlie sitting on the bed with one pantleg on. "I don't see anything," I said, peering out the window.
"No, Mom, on the radio! They said there's been an accident!"
I sat down next to him, and put my arm around his shoulders.
"Honey, there is an accident every day."
We have tried everything to help my kindergartener get out of the bed for school in the morning. We tried a dawn simulator, but it didn't even come close to waking him up. We tried rousing him ridiculously early so he plenty of time to gradually wake up. That meant I had to wake up ridiculously early. We tried startling him awake, just short of throwing cold water on him. One morning I was shaking him awake and he yelled "I'm sleeping!" He often groggily mumbles "I don't want to get up," to which I reply "I don't either."
Finally we thought it might be a good idea to set his alarm clock to "wake to music." I thought NPR might be a good station, then second guessed myself because of all the talk of war. My husband, who is a huge classical music fan (second only to hip hop), suggested the local classical music station. Evidently we didn't think about the fact that even the classical music station breaks for local news and weather.
"Mom!" Charlie screamed from his room one morning.
"What?" I babbled through my toothpaste.
"There's been an accident!"
Well, we live close to the intersection of two fairly busy streets, and occasionally there is an accident there.
I spit in the sink and ran downstairs to find Charlie sitting on the bed with one pantleg on. "I don't see anything," I said, peering out the window.
"No, Mom, on the radio! They said there's been an accident!"
I sat down next to him, and put my arm around his shoulders.
"Honey, there is an accident every day."
Monday, February 04, 2008
Top 10 Talents of My Mother
My mother was a very, very, very difficult person to get along with. No, I am serious. I know everyone says that their mother was/is difficult to get along with, and if you say yours isn't, just you wait until you get married or have children. However, I have documentation. She was a clinical psychologist and everyone, except x-patients, thinks she was hard to get along with. Friends, neighbors, her parents, both x-husbands, her kids, teachers, waiters and waitresses, her hairdressers (she never saw the same one twice), even my therapist. The spouses of her children got the brunt of it. However, my mother had many talents outside the realm of social interation, so I thought it would be nice to mention them here.
10. Cleaning the basement - albeit every 6 months and making me and my brother help
9. Balancing her checkbook - to the penny, every month, no calculator, in the days when they had that form on the back of your statement to help
8. Frugality - she could decorate her house, pretty cutely, with things from K-Mart
7. Gardening - I'm not talking landscaping here, I mean this woman could grow tomatoes in rock
6. Aging - all her life, to the day her chemotherapy began, she looked 10 years younger than she was
5. Cooking - she could make a meal out of a tomato, an onion, and some chicken broth
4. Education - she had a PhD of course, but also kept up on the latest medical, psychological and political issues. She learned how to use a computer when she was 68
3. Creativity - she could paint; her masterpeice being a distant nude of my sister in a woods sitting on a rock. I think it still hangs in my sister's house to this day. I also remember her entertaining us with little clothes pins (the old-timey kind without the spring) that she painted to look like us. She could dance; she taught me and my soon-to-be husband a rough two-step for our wedding. She could sculpt; I also remember clay sculptures of me and my brother playing baseball
2. Being a psychologist - it wasn't until the visiting hours after she died that I really understood this. Tens of people said to me "your mother saved my life"
And the top talent of my mother...
Folding a fitted sheets. Hers turned out in perfect squares, folded neatly, every time. I don't know anyone who can do this. I try, but end up rolling mine up in a ball
My mother died in 2002 of lung cancer one week after her 71st birthday. God rest her soul.
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