Working Moms

After two years in my position at work I received a promotion at the end of last year. I was excited for the new responsibility and to be taking my career in a new direction. And, the pay increase was a welcomed benefit. I knew the new job would require training, the learning of much business history and methods, and a general inundation of information. I was ready for the challenge. It’s not that I didn’t enjoy my previous position. In fact, I actually loved it, but after two years I had mastered much of it. Many of the daily tasks could be done without too much thought - I knew what I was doing and I could do it...

Yep. All of the ingredients - but we just can't get there. (This is an embarrassing, actual photo of my dinner as I received it one night - my fulfillment of a childhood comfort food craving, apparently, the only way it comes) Monday morning: We *finally* get into the car (after a few trips to retrieve forgotten items). Seatbelts on. Reverse. Back the car DIRECTLY into the trash AND recycling bins. Curse in front of my kid. Exit car, clean up trash in the street (in heels and a skirt). Re-situate garbage and recycling bins. Back out again. Make it to the carpool drop off *just* in time. Rush to work. Get further behind because of unexpected meetings.  Monday afternoon:  Still at work. Can't catch up. Husband picks up kids (each at a different location). He...

I'm one of those moms who seems to be able to do it all. I admittedly have a lot on my plate, and while it may seem ironic, I've only ever added more the longer I've been working. Like many of us, I parent, work full-time, volunteer with different organizations, have hobbies, and even kick back and let my hair down whenever I want to. Over the years, I've mastered the art of balancing all of my interests right along with raising my children. But none of this could ever happen without my husband, my partner. He and I are both very independent people. We joke all the time that, as cruel as it may sound, neither of us needs the...

I know you see us. The moms at the playground, pushing our swinging tot with one hand, phone in the other. There is at least ONE of us around. At the zoo, the park, or the Chick-fil-A play area ... there is always one or two of "us" in your presence. I'm almost positive someone has mumbled under their breath that we should be off our phones and enjoying these moments with our littles. And I couldn't agree more. I just so happen to be that EXACT mom... I am the mom rushing kids out the door in the morning, answering a client's message about our session in an hour. I zone out in the middle of my teenager telling me...

You read that right. I have aides. Rather, my son has aides (also known as direct support workers - DSWs.) He has four regular nurses and two regular CNAs who care for him. Daily there are two strangers (minimum) in our home to care for our terminally ill, medically-fragile, technology-dependent son. Weekly we also have teachers, therapists, program coordinators, waiver supervisors, nursing supervisors and more enter our home. {Somebody send us a Roomba!!} I am asked frequently what it's like having so many strangers in our home. Well, it's weird getting used to at first. But when you weigh the alternative which is not having the assistance our son needs to survive -- you learn to deal with this sacrifice....