The mommy chronicles

It's been great to be home during two schoolcations, but what lies ahead frightens the heck out of me - summercation. Less than ten days and they are completely in my care. Good God, what am I going to do with them? My husband and I discussed having them not go to camp or have all day activities since I'm home, but is that really fair? I mean, I need to look for a job, God knows it takes a lot of time during he day, inbetween walks with the dog, checking my email, re-checking e-mail, and all those fabulous sites that "help me in my next career".

They count down the minutes....five, four, three, two, none! With money at the top of my mind, that too is something I need to consider in their summercation. What's low-cost, no-cost and fun? Trips to Daddy's office on the train - fun, fun, fun! Picnics in the backyard with the neighbors. Bike rides, walks, playing in the sun! Ok, that's day one, 93 more to go...

I could have them enjoy a day in the life of Mommy: searching the web for jobs that just don't seem to be there, hey it's reality. I could always use them to practice for job interviewing (if I only had one to look forward to!)

The List Maker

My list keeps getting longer and longer each day.  My half-done projects mount up in the dining room, and I wonder when I'm going to finish one of them.  I was so proud of my last list of accomplishments, I eagerly set out and started, not finished, not completed, four new projects. I did manage to get the grill together, a feat only I can enjoy and rub in my husband's face.  How satisfying.  However, all he has to mention is the pile of half-forgotten projects that lay still, hidden underneath the table.

So, I've decided to start a new list.  I have to be honest, lists have always kept me going.  I make lists in my head, lists in the car, lists on the kid's old homework papers, lists on the back of receipts, lists on napkins in a restaurant, lists, lists, lists.  Even though I don't subscribe to it, (my husband hates the idea of someone making a list for him )I love the "honey-do-list".  My sister-in-law is infamous for this one.  Right at eye level it sits for all the men in her family to see.  My brother is her number one target.  He gets such a kick out of crossing one out.  Ahh, completed projects can really make your day, even if you weren't the one who did the actual work.  

My new list consists of categories.  House. Kid's schedules. Networking. Dog. Vacation Planning.  Shopping. Friends.  Banking.  Garden.  It all becomes yet an endless list of lists.  Isn't there something easier?  I need a new system.  I'll add that to my categories:  devise better list preparation.

This list preparation tool would allow me to have the categories as well as prioritize by each category.  In addition, I would be able to determine estimated amount of time to complete the project.  For instance, mailing a letter can easily be completed while walking the dog.  Two down, three hundred to go.  The formula would look something like this:

X=Y/time+Z/time*A/B(Y+Z)

(I'm no mathematician, but that's impressive!)

Ok, this all sounds so great... knocking off several things in one.  Hmmm, that would make for a good category, multiple projects.

Now, I've truly gone off the deep end.  I have single-handedly changed list making into categorizing.  The difference? Organizing my lists into multiple lists.  

Back to problem #1:

 My list keeps getting longer 

I think I'll go back to my old technique of just writing on scrap pieces of paper, as I gaze at the pile of half-dones, and cook a hot dog on my grill that I put together last week.  

Maybe I'll start a new list...

Bob the Arborist

I've spent a good chunk of time getting to know my neighbors recently. Well, when they wave wine in front of me, and a meal I might as well stick around for an hour or two. Who knew they could be so much fun? They've lived behind us for three or so years. During that time, did I ever go through the fence to say hello? I gave the occasional wave, the head nod, the hey how ya doin? But as my neighbor pointed out, until the kids are in school, you see each other more often at school events. Would I? Would I really see them more if I were working?

Coming in from a two hour impromptu pizza party, I realized what a great neighborhood I have. I've been so busy networking with people on the periphery of my world, I completely ignored the ones in my back yard. So, there I sat, with my neighbors, with a glass of wine in my hand I had brought over the fence, and a delicious slice of pizza.

All the kids ran around, playing as though we were on the playground at school. See, they know one another, they see each other at school five days a week. Me? What effort have I put into getting to know the neighbors since I'm home seven days a week? So I gave it a shot.

With my new profound logic of listening first, digest the conversation, then ask questions, I learned so much. My one neighbor, Bob (that's his real name, it sounded so good in the title I had to leave it), he goes to work everyday, kisses his wife and three kids good bye and heads off. I asked Bob what he did, and for the life of me, I can't remember. Now, the conversation got off subject, focusing on the little one-inch green monsters leaving slimy caterpillar poop all over my car, hanging out in my trees, or what I refer to as the "caterpillar condo association".

Bob then announces that he would like to be an Arborist. Bob the Arborist. Has a nice ring to it. I'm asked what I've been doing since I've "been home" and I go through my list:

Made my niece's First Holy Communion Dress
Made my daughter a dress to wear to the Holy Communion
Designed t-shirts for 15 friends who share a love of Hockey-momdom
Designed three kids t-shirts as birthday gifts
Started to write a screenplay (I have an outline)
Helped a friend start a business
Present the business in front of Venture Capitalists (these guys have sweeeet offices)
Create a Sales and Marketing Model for this business
Put a grill together (OK, it is halfway done)
and
write in my blog.

No mention of interviews, networking, negotiating contracts for employment, just being me. Bob looked a bit surprised that this woman who was clearly a "career woman" had not mentioned her next career path. "I too would like to be an arborist," I said.

Actually, I think I can do anything I put my mind to if I needed to right now. My cooking and sewing abilities shock most people, as career-minded model citizen that I am couldn't possibly cook, sew, write, garden, design...Oops, I was beginning to sound a little too much like a former prisoner known for her culinary arts and perfectionism. Perfect? Me? No. Culinary guru? No. Creative queen? No. Writer extraordinaire? Nope. I'm just me. I like to do stuff.

As soon as my other neighbor up the street heard that I sew, she asked if I could fix something for her that needed a sewing machine. "No problem" I said. I've offered my creative skills and services to friends and neighbors, and I politely ask them where they work, and if they're company is hiring. "Nope, just laid-off twenty or so" is the standard reply. That's all right, I'll continue on my path, networking. New network, more opportunities. There's always the option to be an Arborist.

Time

I've been so busy the last two weeks, I've forgotten completely that I need to look for a job. I checked in with the dog this morning and she concurred that at least once a week, I should take time to participate in the job hunt. What is the job hunt anyway? How much time should this all take? It's certainly not the coldjobs.com, or blobster.com, or even the social sites we all love, like nospace.com and disjointed.com. Everyone says you need to network, so I do. I have my coffee moments, occasional lunches and even jaunts to faraway lands (like Hopkinton) to meet with old colleagues or people in my rolodex. Just passing time I suppose.

The rolodex is a fascinating beast. The sheer construction of the circular movement amazes me. Ok, so through the years I have now collected three rolodexes filled with at least 500+ cards. I decided to ramble through them today and what a story it told. (This also provided me ample opportunity to procrastinate re-writing my resume for the umpteenth time, and talk myself into believing that this was part of my job hunt, business cards and contacts that stretch back to the paleatoic time period.

I had the good fortune of knowing many radio sales executives throughout my career. Fascinating industry radio, terribly incestuous. My favorite keepsakes are those cards of people who left one radio station, with two or sometimes three stapled business cards over the original. There are a few business cards of people who have moved on (out of the business, not under the ground!) and then there are those that are still around today. Spending their days peddling :60 seconds worth of time.

Do I call them? It would be networking after all. Maybe they aren't at that company anymore. Would they return my call? Ok, let's try one. I call, and leave a message saying I'm no longer with my former company, however, I'd love to get together to talk and catch up. I give my schpiel on how I'll only take an hour of their time to pick their brain, I'm not looking for a job, just a cup of joe. I'll buy.

A couple minutes go by, I check my cell phone, my home phone, and my cell phone again, then my email, then my other email address, then my other email address, my spacebook page, disjointed page, even my bitter account. Nothing. What is wrong with people? Two more minutes go by, and I get distracted while on disjointed.com. Hmmm, it's like my rolodex on speed. I never really took much time perusing this site. Sure I reached out to a couple of people, who sometimes, reached back. Not many of these folks are in my lifeboat. I'm afraid to say many of them are floating on a buoy in cyberspace.

I come across the person I had just left a message for. Which now, roughly 20 minutes has gone by and I still haven't heard back. Why was it so easy to get called back or an email back from people when you were in the office? (At this point I realize the office day is the land of no time, the day is made up of meetings which govern time and time is told in terms of "oh yes, it's time for the blah blah meeting, and after that it's the rah rah meeting. Then, in between the hah hah meeting and lunch we have to squeeze in the cah cah meeting.) Reaching back to my contact via disjointed.com and what do you know? They contact me right back. They're no longer with the company for which I had the phone number. They ask me if we're hiring. Aggressive little bugger. I respond with my traditional reply and delete the correspondance afterwards. If you choose not to spend time with the me I am today, I'll delete you.

Back to the rolodex? The beast that it is, it's more of a history book now, it defines my past. My High School had a saying in Latin, which I have forgotten the Latin but the English translation has stayed with me always.

What I am to be, I am now becoming.

What's the next chapter in my life? Listening to my children's voices, really listening. Listening to those who reply to me, not who I was as defined by my job. If I'm in your rolodex, just throw it away, and call me back. Likely, I've left you a message. Job hunting is fun, I'm having the time of my life!

man the lifeboat!

Whenever my life gets to the point of needing additional help (outside of wine and meds), I reach into my lifeboat. My lifeboat is made up of those people and things I can count on when I am torn in which choice to listen to, which path to take and honestly, accepting comfort and caving in to my needs. As a working mommie we are all powerful. We are the Uber-Mom. We have 8 arms in order to carry a baby seat, our computer bag, purse, lunch bag, coffee cup and a child's back pack.

We can do it all in an hour and a half. What that "all" is I don't remember, I can only remember that I would look at the clock and each moment, I would say, "OK, you've got an hour and a half to get this done..." Whether it was getting ready in the morning, getting a project done for your boss, meetings with your co-workers, lunch? (yeah, I took hour and a half lunches sometimes...) or making dinner, 90 minutes was all I needed.

I searched the web yesterday and uncovered several other Uber-moms. Some named atomic mom, anonymous mom, megan's mom (why not, there are several Megans in the world, they should congregate somewhere), Ruth, the mom. I love these women. They are passionate about their children, their worlds around them, and mostly, they share pieces of themselves through blogging. Moments in our lives, whether its an hour and a half or 90 minutes, it's all relative. I give myself an hour and a half to write my blog.

Back to my lifeboat. My blog is a member of my lifeboat. Along with a cup a coffee, we're just fine together. Comfort.

My husband, naturally, is my first mate. OK, I couldn't hold back from that one. In all honesty, he is my best friend, who reminds me every day that I don't have a job that brings home money when he sweetly asks, "so, what are you doing today?" Thanks for the reminder, but I'm pretty busy, I still use my day timer, although it's not Tuesday April 28th anymore is it? Comfort or helping out in making choices? You be the judge.

Then, there are those critical few that I seem to be picking up along the way. Old co-workers who have also left who reach out to me for support and return with praise, Mommies from up the street who are my wine suppliers, my mother, who consistently points out spelling errers on my blog, they all are in this life-boat of mine.

Yesterday, I shared my resume with one of my members who seems to always just be there. Where there is, I don't know, but he has always been able to read me, since we first met. He had great feedback for me, how I miss feedback. I thrived on it at work. Usually the good stuff I liked the most, but to improve you have to put yourself out there and take some of the suggestions to make yourself better. Uber-Mom had faults, only a handful of people know what they are and are able to communicate to her in a way that only she can accept.

I am still Uber-Mom. I still have eight arms, but now, they are being put to a different use, hugging for the comfort, embracing the choices, and leading myself down new paths with my lifeboat in hand.