The art of free

There's nothing like getting something for nothing. And that is even more true as a stay at home mom. Luckily, kids are just the ticket for getting things for free. Storytimes, readings, parties, the calendar never runs dry.

Take this weekend. Saturday morning I let J sleep in, so I decided to take the girls over to The Greatest Place on Earth...uh, I mean Target. They were having a Dr. Suess reading event. We arrived, snagged a balloon and a gift bag for each girl and sat down to listen to the employees read Dr. Suess books. Great way to kill an hour and the gift bags included a snack, a drink, and a few toys. Nice.

Now free events are obviously a marketing tactic, and someone once told me I was a marketer's wet dream. Yup, I pretty much never leave one of these events without at least a cup of coffee or a book for the girls.

And I certainly have never left Target empty-handed. The reading was strategically placed outside the kids' section, so as the girls listened to the stories, my eyes wandered and created a shopping list in my head. Sadly, I realized I had left my wallet behind, so I actually had to leave without any purchases....but I may have returned later that day to pick up the items on my list. I mean, we needed ketchup. And napkins. And a shirt. And a new purse. And....oops.

Later that day, I left to get a haircut and told J about an event at the local toy store - a birthday party for Elmo. Little A is pretty obsessed with Elmo these days. To get her to put a diaper on, I have to bribe her with Elmo's image on her Pampers and let her hold it and squeal "Elmo." So this was right up her alley. J said it was a cute event. Big A hugged Elmo, Little A high-fived him, they had some free cake, walla. Except that somehow Big A talked J into buying her a Hello Kitty nail set. Which included fake nails. For a 3-year-old. And that cost $18. Jeez, I thought I was the money-waster in the family?

You know, now that I'm writing this, I'm starting to see a pattern. Maybe "free" events are not really the thing for our family. They seem to be costing us some serious money.

Nerves

Today I wore a suit and hose for the first time in months. I am not sure which way I'm hoping for things to go, but at this point, its out of my hands. In the meantime, looks like my car could use a good cleaning, huh?

Working it out

Like most women, I've had an up and down history with exercise. There was the period in grad school where I worked out like crazy, running up to 4 miles, taking step classes at the gym and even dabbling in tennis (which wasn't too successful). Then there was the time from about when I got pregnant with Big A till about 4 months ago, when I didn't do much beyond walking. A month before I got laid off, we rejoined the gym, and I vowed to get back in shape.

The timing could not have been better. I finally had the time to workout and bonus - the gym offers an hour of babysitting per day - which the girls love. Exercise is the perfect outlet for a stay at home - offering "me time" and an antidote against the "SAHM 15" - yes, I think I just invented that term.

I always thought that I might lose some weight staying home. After all, I went from sitting at a desk for most of the day, to chasing around rugrats all day. Unfortunately, it hasn't worked out the way quite yet. Despite working out consistently for 3 months now, I've yet to lose a pound and have quite a few I could spare. What gives? I have to think it's the ample time and opportunity to snack, as well as a stocked kitchen feet away. While working, to save time, I brought both my breakfast and lunch to work, and aside from a few vending machine runs, an occasional birthday cake for a coworker or lunch out, that was all I had. Now, its just as easy to finish the kids' mac and cheese, or sample one of their 20 snacks/day. It also doesn't help that the standard "mom uniform" of sweatpants/yoga pants, t-shirts and hoodies is all to forgiving. I'm definitely making an effort to shed some weight now that spring is just around the corner.

Despite the lack of weight loss, I am glad to have exercise back in my life. It's fun, it makes me feel good and it sets a great example for my girls. My little one yells out "Y" when we walk up to the gym and Big A tells me I have to exercise for my "fat tummy" - out of the mouths of babes....

Domestically challenged

The dark side of staying at home for me is most definitely cleaning. With two working parents, we were all out of the house for 40 hours a week, so there just wasn't as much opportunity to make a mess. With the help of a wonderful cleaner who came in every two weeks, the house remained relatively tidy.

Husband and I made a deal upon marriage that he would do laundry and I would do dishes/cooking/grocery shopping. This isn't as unbalanced as it may seem since my "cooking" isn't exactly gourmet. But that's a topic for another day. Suffice it to say that there is food on the table every night and no one is withering away. I also have an extremely tall husband who is quite particular about his clothes, so it really just worked.

Well, after adding two kids and with me staying home, it only made sense that I should pitch in with the laundry. Luckily so far the only clothes I've ruined have been my own -- like the beautiful 100% wool cardigan that now fits Big A. :-(

The cleaning duties on the other hand have been my nemisis. For now, we've kept our cleaning person - I would rather give up electricity frankly. But the in-between upkeep has become quite monumental. It seems that as soon as one area is cleaned, the kids come through and dirty it again. And with more time in the house, the play areas have literally stretched from the family room and basement playroom to every room in the house. I now have a slide in my "formal" living room, a Tinkerbell kids table/craft station in my dining room and two kid-sized recliners smack in the middle of my family room. Even my bedroom has turned into a playroom, as the girls sometimes play in there while I get ready in the morning. Yes, my house is pretty much Romper Room at this point.

I always assumed that house upkeep should be part of the deal with staying at home, but the reality of that pretty much sucks. Big A no longer naps, so the 30 minutes of "quiet time" I can get out of her, I'd like to take a break. After all, why clean up when it will look just as messy within a few hours and probably to my husband, like it was never cleaned in the first place? The beauty of a cleaning person is that the whole house is actually clean at the same time. This would never happen otherwise.

Unfortunately, my cleaning person is on an extended vacation at the moment. And honestly, it makes me want to cry. Which is why I'm blogging instead of doing what I should be doing...cleaning. Ugh.

The what ifs

Big A fell down a flight of steps today. Yeah. Scary stuff. I was getting her ready for a movie date with Daddy and went downstairs to do some cleaning, leaving both girls upstairs with the gate at the top of the stairs closed. I mistakenly though J was within ear shot, but he was in the shower. The way Big A tells it, Little A came up behind her and pushed her, causing her to crash into the gate, knock it down and send her tumbling down the steps. I somehow doubt this story considering Little A is 18 months old, but I guess its possible. In any case, I was in the living room when I heard the crash of the gate and the ensuing tumbling noise. Scariest.sound.ever.

I ran to the staircase to find Big A at the bottom of the steps, crying. J rushed out of the shower when he heard the sound. She seemed fine, no bleeding or obvious wounds. She told me her head hurt, but when we told her we were going to take her to the doctor instead of the movie, she quickly changed her story and said she was fine. I called the nurse line at my pediatrician's office and they said the rule of thumb was to take a child in to be checked if they fell down/off something more than twice his/her height. So, off to the ER we went.

We packed a backpack since we knew the wait could be long. We are lucky to have a wonderful children's hospital closeby so we headed there. Within an hour, we were in, checked and given the all clear as well as signs to look for at home. Luckily, she is doing just fine. I don't really know how a three year old can tumble down a full flight of stairs, landing on hardwood and be totally fine, but we feel extremely lucky that she is. I can't let myself think too long about the what ifs because it will drive me mental. The important thing is that she is okay and we are so grateful.

After the ER visit, we stopped for some playdough ice-cream. Ice-cream really does make everything all better, doesn't it? Daddy date is rescheduled for tomorrow and Little A? Well, we're keeping our eye on her. Let's hope we don't have a Macaulay Culkin on our hands.

Sunshine days

It's one thing to stay home during the winter, when the cold and bad weather keep you inside the house. There were a couple 2-3 day housebound stretches there when I would have gladly accepted a job as a janitor just to get out of my house (and if you know my domestic skills, that is saying a lot). But it's quite another when the weather turns nice. Remember in college, when the first 50 degree day brought out the flip flops and bikini tops? Well in mom world, just change flip flops to strollers and bikini tops to t-shirts (thank goodness).

The last two days have been unseasonably warm and like a starving man finding himself upon a free buffet, the girls and I have been lapping up the sunshine. We started with a morning bike ride in our driveway. As I watched Big A pedal for real and shout "I'm a big girl, I'm doing it!" I knew there was nowhere else I'd rather be than right there, watching her. We raced down the sidewalk, Big A pedaling along on her trike (with a doll and a teddy bear in the back rack) and Little A and I running along after. Pure bliss.

We then headed to the park with a friend and the kids ran around like crazy. Here's Big A and Little A on the swings.
It's funny how you can measure a child's growth by what type of swing they use. They start out on your lap on a big swing, then move to the infant bucket swing, then to a "big kid" swing with pushes, and finally to swinging all by themselves, pumping their legs and trying to touch the sky. If you're anything like my husband, the next step is jumping off the swing in mid-air, but we won't go there.

Big A is learning to swing by herself and I found myself feeling overwhelmingly proud of her efforts. I realize that is sort of a silly thing to be proud of, but there you go - when you're a mom, you're proud of things like poop, so swings don't seem so out there.

We soaked up the last bit of the sunshine today with a repeat trip to the park. It was a great way to pass the afternoon, chatting with friends, watching the kids play and eating drippy orange slices. The weather is supposed to get cold again, but at least we have had a taste of spring now and know that its just around the corner. More adventures at the playground await.

Tiny dancer

One of the first things I did as a new stay at home mom was to sign Big A up for a dance class. As a working mom, extracurriculars can be tricky. There is the element of time - i.e., having less of it, and there is also the fact that there just isn't the variety of activities available to the working parent. Many classes are held during the day, creating a logistical impossibility.

So I was thrilled to claim a Wednesday afternoon dance class spot, and so was Big A. At the first class, my friend and I peered through the window, to catch a glimpse of our girls at their first "big girl" class where parents didn't participate. As we craned our necks, an employee came over and offered to let us go in. "No, no," we protested, "we're not *those* mothers." (ha ha). She leaned in conspiratorially and said "Yeah, its usually the working mothers who want to go in. Must be the guilt." Ouch.


I didn't say anything at the time, but her off-hand comment only confirmed the opinion of many out there, that working mothers are wracked with guilt for daring to hold down a job. As a working mom, I personally tried not to give in to the guilt. Working put a roof over my kids' head and they never lacked for love, so why bother? Men don't seem to get any guilt for working, and in fact, are practically given medals for spending time with their kids outside of work. Double standards for sure.


But I digress...dance. Seriously, there really isn't much cuter than a 3 year old in a dance outfit. The little tummies sticking out, the cute pigtails, the sheer joy on their faces. Watching my daughter through that square of glass, I felt proud. My shy little girl was participating with a huge smile on her face, skipping and running and pushing to the front of the line.


Finally, after 7 weeks, we came to today - the "recital." Parents and grandparents were invited to the last class to watch. Big A's dad and I, as well as her grandmother and little sis came to proudly cheer her on. The girls (and one boy) lined up to warm up and everyone followed the teacher's instructions...except Big A. She sat still, staring at her cheering squad with a big grin on her face. I felt like a pageant mom as I frantically mimed the motions to try to get her to join in to no avail. It was hard not to laugh and hubby kept elbowing me to be quiet. Finally, the teacher intervened and Big A got to join her in front of the class. This prompted her to participate, but each time she made a move, she would look back at us with a goofy smile. J (the hubs) whispered that I should put a paper bag on my head as I was throwing her off. Can I help it if my daughter is a Mommy-stalker?


After another half hour of cuteness (they sang "How much is that doggy in the window?" and waggled their hineys to mimic the tail....squeeee), the class was over.


I've signed her up for the next session and I'm already looking forward to her next "recital." I may go in camouflage next time...or hell, I may just join in and wiggle my own hiney.

How did I get here?

My journey to the other side of the fence started when I was just a little girl. Always branded the "bookworm," I sailed through school, graduated college with honors and found myself unsure of where to go from there. I decided to pursue a Master's degree since I knew I loved school and wasn't ready to leave it. From there, I began my career as a communications professional. It didn't take long for me to realize that climbing the career ladder was not going to be my goal in life. Work was a means to an end - a paycheck - for me. Although I enjoyed aspects of it, I wasn't interested in devoting my life to work.

However, I also never really thought of being a stay at home mom - it was the farthest thing from my mind, even after I got pregnant with our first baby. When Big A was born, motherhood slapped me in the face. I became *obsessed* with my perfect little baby. We found a great home daycare and I reluctantly returned to work. After about two days, I realized this wasn't going to work for me. I felt pulled to be at home with my daughter and work seemed even more pointless. Although many urged me to "sleep on it," I quickly drafted up a proposal to work part-time. After a couple of tense weeks, my proposal was accepted!

I spent the first year of my daughter's life working part-time - about 3 days/week. Although it provided a nice balance, I didn't quite know what to do with myself on my at-home days. I felt like I didn't fit into the stay at home world or the working world completely. Then we moved into a bigger house with a bigger mortgage and decided we wanted another child. It became clear that I would need a full-time paycheck to meet this goal.

I found a full-time job and 3 months later, I was pregnant with Little A. We were so anxious to carry out our plan that I ended up giving birth a week before my full year at my job. Luckily, they allowed me to still take FMLA. Going back to work after my second child was a lot less dramatic than the first time around. I still was sad and missed my daughters, but I'd gotten into a routine with work and was feeling pretty good about the balance I had going. My job was flexible and family-friendly. My boss had two young girls of her own, so she was understanding about me coming in late or missing time for doctor's appointments. Things were great. And of course, when things are great, something has to happen.

I was shoveling pudding into my mouth at my desk one regular Wednesday at lunchtime when I got "the tap." I was asked to report to the boardroom. My cube neighbor (who also got a tap) and I walked to the boardroom, laughing and joking. Although we both knew our company was struggling and had often joked that they should put us out of our misery, I don't think we really saw it coming. Until we walked into the room and saw the HR Director and stack of official looking folders. An hour later I was sitting in my house, shell shocked. The life I had was no longer.

At first, I thought things might work out seamlessly. I quickly landed an interview for a promising job. However, when that didn't work out and with the holidays fast approaching, I realized this might be more than a temporary endeavor. So I gave my two weeks notice at the daycare, and prepared for my new job as a stay at home mom.

It's been 4 months now and I've settled in pretty quickly to this new role. I'd often fantasized about what it would be like to stay home, and now I'm getting a chance to find out. This blog will chronicle my experiences seeing if the grass really is greener on the other side of the fence. With the economy in the tanker, I'm not sure how long this journey will last. But I definitely plan to enjoy the ride.