Happy hour guilt

Sometimes I leave work at 4:30 and have a margarita. This is called Happy Hour, and it generally is just that - a single, happy, hour with friends from work. At 5:30, I must depart to pick up the munchkin from daycare.

Since my morning started with a 7am conference call, a lunch meeting (at least lunch was provided), and it's now 10:30pm and I'm still working (taking a short break to blog about it), and tomorrow starts with another 7:30am call, and then my sacred 2 hours of 2-hour-momness is being unforgiveably interrupted for a call with a VP who happens to be on a trip to Asia therefore her schedule trumps mine, apparently, I think I deserved to leave work at 4:30 and have a margarita. But I still feel guilty about taking that hour away from staring at my keyboard frantically trying to keep up with the incoming emails.

So as I think about this, and type about this, I'm noticing a trend among our posts. 2-hour moms sure carry a lot of guilt. Perhaps we need to work on asking for help. Delegating. Expecting more of other people, instead of expecting everything from ourselves.

I got SO angry with my husband yesterday when he hollered down from the balcony, "Are the sheets done in the washer? Can you move them to the dryer?" Are you kidding? Have I ever asked him to do part of a chore that I started? No. I do my own damn chores. I clean up for the housekeeper (I used to really make fun of my mom for that when I was a kid, but now I get it. No, she is NOT here to pick up my crap. She is here to clean the things that otherwise would never get cleaned by me, like toilets and floors).

Obviously, I came to the realization that I was never actually going to clean my own house that having someone else do that level of cleaning was worth my money. And we agreed that instead of spending every summer Saturday mowing and weeding the lawn, a lawn service could that for us so we could PLAY on our lawn. So my brain gets that it's okay to exchange money for time-saving services. But to ask someone else to help with something, and not have anything to offer in return just seems impossible.

I have team members that I've handed projects to who have done *nothing* on them, forcing me to do the work anyway. I feel like they should do these things simply because I asked them to and they agreed, but I really have nothing to offer them for completing these projects other than a big huge "thanks" for allowing me to get other work done. That seems like not a very good reason to press them to complete the projects. Hubby made dinner tonight, therefore HE should clean up the kitchen (since he makes me clean up when I cook). But he's on a 10pm conference call, and I know he won't do it before the housekeeper gets here tomorrow.

So how do we get things done without actually having to do them ALL ourselves?

• I think the housekeeper might just have to clean up the kitchen tomorrow.
• I think the team members might just need a reminder that they agreed to take on these projects.
• I think I will continue to take a Happy Hour every now and then to have a guilt-free moment.
• And I think I will go to bed early tonight.

The Bedtime Dance

It's Sunday night, the kid is in bed, and I managed to make it downstairs to my computer.
Actually, she's in her room and in her bed, but she's not asleep. Ahhh...now begins the Bedtime Dance. The dance occurs between her bedroom and ours. She steps out of her bedroom, proceeds to ours, I guide her back into her bed. She steps out of her bedroom again, proceeds to ours, and yada, yada, yada...you get the idea.

I'm downstairs now and can hear her through the baby monitor making her escape. When I go upstairs I'll find her either curled up at the top of the stairs (there's a baby gate that would keep her from rolling down!) or right outside of our bedroom.

I'll take any advice anyone has to curtail this routine...I'm tired of this dance!

2 Hour Mom By Choice

I am a guilty person by nature. Guilty that I had to move 400 miles to separate myself from my family, leaving my mother behind. Guilty that I found a passion in life and was able to make a stay-at-home career out of it (which pays me enough to afford some wonderful luxuries in life), leaving my husband to the daily grind of the 9-5. And, maybe the biggest, guilty that I am a 2 hour mom - by choice.

At first it was going to be two days of daycare a week for socialization. By the time we finally got in at 6 months I bumped it to 3 days for a break (and a little extra time to work). We stayed in 3 days for the next 2 years until I had a perfect excuse - a major project deadline. I thought "just this month I'll put him in full time". The most incredible thing happened - we were both happy. I had time to be productive, I didn't have to worry about filling the day with learning activities, and neither of us were wondering "what's next?". There was no turning back.

I think my son and I were implanted with some type of magnets early on. He is a very clingy child. He would much rather crawl all over me on the couch than play with the mountain of toys in his room. To get him to focus on something other than Mommy has been difficult. If Mommy is in the room nothing else matters. I even have play dates with other friends where we sit there and he hangs on me while his friends play by themselves. It's frustrating for a person like me who has an extraordinarily large personal bubble. He has actually improved quite a bit over the last two weeks. I can tell him to go play in his room and I will actually get some peace for about 10 minutes. I call that progress.

I am a bi-polar mom as well and it seems that, the majority of the time, even the two hours I am responsible for are a struggle. By the time I get him from school we have both had a full day, we're tired, hungry, unable to cope. It takes all the energy I have left just to feed, bathe, and do story time. All he wants is a little bit of my attention (well, all of it actually) and all I want to do is crawl up in bed and recharge for an hour. I have a hard time asking my husband for help. I figure I got to work from home all day - how can I ask him to do all the work when he had to struggle somewhere else with a job that he doesn't enjoy as much as I do? Of course that is ridiculous, but that's how my brain works.

I am sure that is quite enough for today. Just wanted an introductory blog to get the picture started. I use to write all the time and I always felt better. This may never be read but at least it is off my chest. I don't have time for my art anymore so I might as well put a little effort into some cathartic blogging. Thanks for listening.

3.5-hour Mom

Tonight, I was a 3.5-hour Mom! Unfortunately, the only way I was able to accomplish this was by depending on my ever-faithful friend, the Wendy's drive-thru!

I decided tonight I wasn't going to cook so I hit the Wendy's drive-thru on my way home. I know, I know...it's not healthy for little growing bodies and I did feel guilty as I ordered up golden, fried goodness for me and the kids, but I quickly got over it as I realized, again, I didn't have to cook, I wouldn't have a kitchen mess to clean up, and I'd have at least another hour to spend with the kids.

I spent 2.5 hours tonight coloring with my daughter and being covered in animal-shaped stickers. It was an AWESOME night! And as I put her to bed, she turned to me and said, "Sweet dreams, Mama," and my Wendy's drive-thru guilt faded away. I thought about the sweet little girl at the Wendy's window who handed me my food and said, "See you tomorrow!", and I thought for a moment, "You just might!"

Rinse and Repeat

I swear everytime my arse sits down at 10:17 every night I feel like it is Groundhogs Day, in the best of ways of course. I laugh at what today looked like. I woke up to my hubbie's best friend in from Colorado, fought two boys to get dressed, lunches made - ok so it was Lunchable day but still, you have to put it in the bag, car goes to the shop for service yet later to find out they failed to properly render, attempted to get a windshield fixed only to be quoted $600 from Volvo ( I didn't say a PLATINUM windshield turdbaskets, I said GLASS), a phone call to notify of death of beloved uncle unexpectedly, MANY calls from family to discuss uncle, 9 hours of pure email and phone heck ALL DAY -- no breaks -- to the point that EVEN when I am at home and I find myself eating Valentines candy for lunch you realize WORK LIFE BALANCE has left the premises. Car found its way back. Hubbie requests that I pick up kids from school and take them DOWNTOWN, yes DOWNTOWN AUSTIN by 5pm. It is very important and since it is rare that anything is VERY important to him, I think "I should do this". Ok, but 5pm isn't going to happen. It is 4:20 and I haven't showered. Haul arse, walk into school only to see my 5 year old with gloves on cleaning the bathroom. When one proceeds to throw massive amounts of hand soap from the dispenser all over the walls, counter and floor at a Spanish school, you clean the crap up yourself WHICH I agree with. WTHeck kid? Apparently he "really wanted to clean" so he says. Given his clean record, I make him finish cleaning, let him know this one will be dealt with by Dad and off we go. Boys in the car, sit on Mopac trying to explain lyrics from the Avett Brothers and Bon Iver that even I don't under... "Mom, what does 'murder' mean?" "Mom, I know, I know, I know what he says, he said you can't have your LIFE back not KNIFE back"... We carry on downtown. No Trey, the service entrance won't let me in but I love you so much, I will walk in the 90' heat in a parking garage with two hungry kids who are arguing over who toots the loudest. Next thing you know, I found myself in back of 100 people of the male persuasion at a CCA banquet tonight and realized NOT ONLY am I an award winning (self promoted) coach, mother, corporate slave BUT also, WIFE! They only had 150 or so for purchase and as I was inching closer and closer to a line that I really couldn't figure out why I was in anyway, men starting passing me up knowing these darn YETI coolers were running out. Finally I step up and grab the last VERY LAST 4 tickets to my husbands PURE elation (he will be the hero to whomever the lucky recipients are). As sweat trickled down my face I looked at my husband who had just handed the boys scoops of ice cream, handed him the prized cooler tickets and left the BUILDING! Next stop Guerros and date night with two of the coolest men I know. We color, we swing, we dance, we dabble in shopping, we hang out at the candy store, we go home. They decide they are ready to take a shower by themselves, I am no longer needed. I see a hint of light with this newfound independence of mine. Pajamas on, sugar bugs scrubbed extra hard, two extra kisses each for the goodness they give. I sit down. It is 10:17.

I finally used the basil

In my spare time (that 30 minute window I captured about 2 months ago one Saturday afternoon), I like to garden. Well, ok, no I really don't. I like to plant things in pots and then check in on them on occassion to see if they are growing. Miraculously, the basil, oregano, and thyme I planted during my 30 minutes of free time with the monster child back in March is growing like CRAZY. It appears to get the right amount of sun, and the perfect amount of automatic sprinkler action. Did you know basil flowers at the top when it grows really well? Yeah! it does! Cool. So tonight, after I bathed the kid, hubby put him to bed and I made a rustic pizza with basil that I grew and nurtured (or kind of thought about nurturing for 30 minutes two months ago) all by myself!

And it was good. So is this Pine Ridge Chennin Blanc - Voigner, by the way. Two thumbs up!

Me and My Fat Pants

Don't tell me you don't know what fat pants are! They're the pants or shorts you wear when Ole Mother Nature calls on you and the only relief to the bloating discomfort (besides an entire bottle of Pamprin) are your reliable fat pants. They have an elastic waistband and they can either be stretched up over or worn comfortably underneath your bloated belly. Yes...today I am grateful for my fat pants and the creator of elastic.

Perhaps after my 4:00 conference call, I shall pen a short, sweet ode to my fat pants.

But wait, after my call, I have to start dinner...and then pick up the baby from day care...and then finish making dinner...and then feed everyone...and then take the baby for a walk (hoping not to run into neighbors because I'll be wearing my fat pants)...and then bathe the baby...and then finish working after she's in bed.

Okay, no time for ode penning...this blog will have to do. Thank you, fat pants, thank you!

Sneaking Out

So hubby and I snuck out of work for 2.5 hours to enjoy a little escape at the new Gold Class Cinemas in Austin at the Domain. I offer my opinion:

Here's my official review of Gold Class Cinemas ($22/ticket if you sign up for the free membership, $29.ticket if you don't... why wouldn't you??): I arrived 30 mins early as the online order receipt asks you to. I put my credit card down for my "tab" to order food and drinks from. I was escorted to the appropriate swanky lounge area for my theatre (Iron Man 2), and a pleasant waiter came by within a minute to chat as I waited on Jeff to join me. Very courteous and said many times that our experience there was the most important thing for the waitstaff, so always let them know if we need anything. We ordered appetizers: bread sticks with 3 dipping/spreading sauces ($12) and some drinks. At about 5 minutes til noon, we were ushered to our previously-selected seats in the 24-person theatre and had the call button explained to us, as well as the controls for the reclining seats. We were offered a blanket and pillow, but it wasn't needed at the time (after I ate, I did ask for a blanket and it was a fabulous warm and cozy one!). I had the cuban pork sandwich ($11) and Jeff had the artisan pizza ($16). Really awesome food. REALLY awesome movie. Really comfy chairs. All told, it was a $100 movie, but if you calculate a night out at, say, The Melting Pot or equivalent-priced restaurant, then a move at a regular theatre, it's about even. My only complaint is that the tray for eating on is too small to share with someone, and their plates for the food are too large to go on the small tray. Other than that, the experience was delightful! Two thumbs up!

And let me say, what a nice treat to do this during the day to avoid the customary $40 babysitting fee that you incur on a Friday/Saturday night! Though I sure would have liked a glass of wine, which I wasn't comfortable partaking in on a "lunch break."