Juggling Life

What IS Hard?

Like many liberal Democrats I can't tear my eyes away from the Republican nominating race. As much as I would have loved to see Newt be the nominee, it would appear that cooler heads have prevailed and the non-certifiably crazy Mitt Romney will prevail. Why the Republicans chose to pay no-nevermind to the reasonable Jon Huntsman, I do not know.

Back to Mitt . . .

What absolutely drives me nuts about him is that I think he is 100% disconnected from any sort of awareness or knowledge of how many people make their way through their lives.

The "safety net" comment sent me over the edge. I will tell you that the single mom in my class (whose husband left her and their two kids and isn't paying child support) and is having to take loans to finance her education because she doesn't qualify for grants is not feeling the safety net. Neither is the student whose wife's cervical cancer was just diagnosed because she hasn't had a pap smear in the three years since her husband lost his job and insurance. As another student pointed out, "the very fact that we need a safety net shows that we're walking a high wire."

The other thing (besides the above and the dog on the car roof) that chaps my hide is how he goes on and on about how he knows how to work hard. Bullshit. He knows how to work hard at easy work. That is a totally different thing from working hard at hard work. I feel absolutely justified in saying that because it's true of me as well--and probably some of you, too.

The type of work that upper-middle class, or even middle-class, people do and the hours we invest in that work pale in comparison to what so many struggling Americans go through.

My student that gets up at 4 a.m. to use public transportation that gets her to class at 8 am. and then she stays at school until 4 (class is over at 1) because that's the only way she can have computer access and then turns around and spends another 3 hours getting home to her unheated trailer--while getting top grades--that's hard. By the way, she is 50 years old and her old career was as a pilot. She would readily admit that what she thought was hard in her former life wasn't that hard in retrospect.

I'm not going to apologize for the life I have, but I'm also not going to pretend it's HARD work. I believe that is because I have empathy and I can use that empathy and my imagination to gain an idea of what other's lives are like.

I don't want or expect Mitt Romney to apologize for his life, and there are things he's done that are accomplishments of which he can be proud, but working HARD? I don't think so. And I think it would show some empathy if he was aware of that reality.

 

 

 

 

Stay Classy, Mickey D . . .

This is the bathroom at the fanciest McDonald's I ever did see. It's in Kingman, Arizona . . . so if you ever decide to get your kicks on Route 40 (Route 66 is still there, you just have to go out of your way to drive it) . . .

A 9-hour "easy" drive . . . explained

In the comments to yesterday's post more than one person was baffled as to how a nine-hour drive could be described as "easy."

First off, my  husband and I both come from hardy driving stock. Every summer of his life his parents took a trip back home to visit family in North Dakota. They did this with up to five children, in a station wagon from, over the years, Florida, Georgia, Tennessee and California. The only time they didn't DRIVE home for the summer was when they lived in Puerto Rico.

My family never took a vacation that didn't involve a car and a tent. Okay, I lied. For a couple of years it involved a camper--but never an airplane.

We raised our kids much the same way in regard to driving vacations--though I did cause a family fracas in 1991 when I declined to drive to Fargo, North Dakota with three children under the age of six. The fact that I scored tickets so cheap ($189 r/t) that we wouldn't have saved much, if any, money by driving was beside the point. I was an infidel.

In our family any drive 18 hours or less is considered a one-day drive. Between 18 and 24 hours could go either way (I've driven straight through to Vancouver, Washington). We're not militant about it, but consider one potty break per four hours to be reasonable. However, if you are with us and you want to stop every two hours (Holley Martens, I'm talking to you!) we will openly mock you.

MVP drives straight-through from Fort Collins, CO and Grownup Girl makes Chicago in three days if she's driving. In our extended family, my husband's brother is legendary for making it from San Diego to the Canadian border in one shot--for him, Fargo, N.D. is a two-day drive.

Secondly, what makes the San Diego to Flagstaff drive so easy is the highway in the above picture. We took the 15 to the 40 and that was it. Not too many big trucks (I-80 through Nebraska, I'm looking at you!) and a well-maintained road.

Honestly, this drive was so short I didn't even stop at the library to stock up on books on tape!

I will say that experience (rental car in Minneapolis) has taught us that when traveling with children a minivan is a must. Then again, that may just be that's what our kids have always had.

What's your limit for time in the car in one day? Are you raising road warriors, too?

 

 

 

Home, Sweet Home

On Friday morning Mr. Fix-it, Social Butterfly and I set out for Flagstaff to visit one of SB's college choices--Northern Arizona University.

This would be the same NAU that I suggested she apply to many times over the summer. The same NAU in which she wouldn't ever be interested.  The same NAU that she said about, one day this fall, "Hey, what do you think about me applying to NAU?" In a bizarre turn of events, I thought that was the fine idea.

We spent Friday evening cruising through the town and campus and then Saturday morning got a tour and the inside scoop from the neighbor kid who is a sophomore at NAU. Oy! The dorm room of a quartet of frat boys is something to behold (and smell).

The campus itself was lovely. Brick buildings surrounded by Ponderosa pines and bordered by snow-capped mountains. The college has done a good job of integrating the newer construction with the older buildings. And the new construction? The most amazing recreational center I have ever seen--with an indoor track, rock-climbing wall and rooms for P.E. credit yoga classes. Oh, and the labs are good, too. The "cafeteria" was impressive with lots of healthy choices for those who don't want to eat Chick-Fil-A or Pizza Hut.

SB is thinking she might want to be a nurse, but is not positive, so right now we're thinking of a Public Health major and then she can do a fifth year to get a nursing degree if that proves to be her interest.

Flagstaff is a nine-hour, very easy drive from San Diego; after we had lunch on Saturday--at Brandy's Restaurant and Bakery, a Diners, Drive-ins and Dives pick--we looked at each other and said, "This was great! Let's go home, now!"

So, we went back to the hotel, asked for a late check-out, grabbed our bags and hit the road. I might have felt bad for cancelling the second night except the beds were horrible. As SB said Saturday morning "When a 17-year old wakes up with a sore back you know it's a bad bed."

We were home by 8 p.m. and it was, as it always is, wonderful to be back at home. It's also pretty wonderful to have seen a school that has so many of the things SB wants in a college--her major, a very different environment than Southern California, an outdoor activity-oriented student body and the perfect distance from home (not too close, not too far).

I must admit that the "Arizona" part of the school's name was a little worrisome to our liberal family. Governor Jan Brewer didn't make us feel any better by wagging her finger in our President's face. The school and the surrounding city had enough people in dreadlocks, as well as Democratic Student Club members trying to register voters, to help convince us that, like most college towns, Flagstaff embraces a wide variety of socio-political viewpoints.

I think it's entirely possible that my daughter might become a Lumberjack!

 

 

She's Off the Sauce . . .

. . . the hot sauce, that is.

Social Butterfy has been having some stomach problems and daily bouts of orthostatic hypotension (dizziness, etc. upon standing), so we went into the doctor today. I love, love, love our doctor because she doesn't do alarmed, but she does do concerned and thorough.

SB is not anemic or diabetic, but may be slightly dehydrated (thus the orthostatic hypotension) and is likely having some esophageal reflux issues (the doctor is not saying ulcer, yet).

We're going back in a week and in the meantime SB is forbidden from using her beloved Cholula hot sauce AT ALL. She'd also like her to add some food into her diet that is NOT total roughage since her diet consists entirely of fruits, vegetables, brown rice and legumes--oh, and dairy, lots of milk and yogurt. Except now she can't eat any milk or yogurt unless it is soy.

Also? No exercise for a week. SB asked if she could still walk the dog even if she couldn't go to the gym and the doctor admonished her to keep it to less than a mile-no cheating. SB was totally busted on that one.

She's starting her on Prevacid for the stomach and 80 oz. of water a day for the dehydration.

After listening to all of the above from the doctor we got into the car and I said we'd go to the store for the medication and some soy milk and yogurt. SB wanted me to drop her off at her Pilates class and then go to the store.

Sigh. It's a good thing she's got a mother. Who knows how to say, "NO!"

 

 

 

 

 

 

For Suzy . . .

Suzy was more interested in the pot than the flowers . . . .

 

It's Winter in San Diego . . . and last week's book giveaway winner

A couple of years ago I bought a very large pot at Costco--expensive, but a GREAT deal (that's the story of Costco). Then I brought a camellia bush to put in it (expensive, but a GREAT deal--Costco, again). This is one purchase I will never regret.

No matter how dreary the January day (and we do occasionally  have dreary days, though today is not one), these flowers blooming on my front porch lift my spirits.

The comments on last week's post about the book Between Interruptions were so very interesting. My informal survey of the responses reinforces what I have observed among my peers--those of us that had our children when we were on the youngish side had, in some ways, an easier adjustment to motherhood--likely because we weren't giving as much up as women that are older and therefore more established in their careers and lifestyles. I'm not saying one way is better than the other, this is just my unscientific observation based on anecdotal evidence!

Anyway . . .

The winner is #8:

I have a 3 month old, my first child. I have no perspective at all on this issue. I know she's precious, but that's about it. I wonder how will I will reconcile my life once this short stasis of maternity leave is over.

Posted by: bkd | January 16, 2012 at 01:29 PM

She sounds like the perfect person to read this book! Send me your snail mail, bkd, and I will pass it on to TLC so they can get your book in the mail.

Cute Hair: What does it really mean?

I've been thinking deep thoughts about aging, looks, women and consumerism. Maybe that's what happens when you hit 47 +3/4 years old. Not bad thoughts, just (possibly) profound ones, pondering a variety of related topics. And what's a blog for if you can't share your deep thoughts?! So, consider this the first in a "series."

I really loved reading all the posts attached to Jen's holiday picture challenge and seeing all the women and reading both what they thought about posting their photos and the comments on their posts.

One type of comment I consistently get when I post photos of myself is complimentary in regards to my hair. Now, this is a huge deal for me because I have terrible hair. Thin and fine and mousy brown (dirty blonde when I was a kid) are the kindest things I can say about my god-given hair. (I'm gearing myself up to post a photo of what I would look like if I did NOTHING to my hair--stay tuned.)

Anyway . . .

I actually like my hair, too. When I leave the house in the morning, wearing work clothes and makeup, I feel confident and like I project a professional image.

That confidence comes with a price tag.

The hair cut/color portion of my confidence costs $140 every six weeks (that includes the tip). Gulp. I am sure that some of you will be aghast at the price, while others will find it reasonable. I'm okay with posting the number because just recently my husband became aware of how much I spend on my hair (note, that this number does not include styling products . . . baby steps). For many years he's had a vague idea that my hair stylist wasn't cheap, but he never knew the actual number. Now he does, and we're still married.

There are whole conversations that might be sparked about the fact that I spend so much on my hair--societal pressure around looks, the patriarchal society in which we live, advertising . . . the list goes on.

I will concede that their are outside pressures affecting my need to have cute hair.

However.

I am a pragmatic person and the above pressures are not the battles over which I choose to get my knickers in a twist. If I want to feel confident and have others perceive me in a positive light, especially in the workplace, my hairdressing bill is the price I must pay, so pay it I do.

The connection between the money I spend on my hair (and on my makeup and my teeth and . . . you get the picture) and larger societal issues is that I truly do not believe I would have the job I have, or have gotten the raise I asked for, if I didn't look good(ish).

Really, this is all part of the bootstrap argument I've previously made. Bootstraps come in many forms and those that don't believe that being white and pretty and being able to afford a haircut that makes me feel confident and professional make it easier to accomplish my goals are just not living in the real world.

I am not going to say that cute hair is MORE important than a strong work ethic or intelligence, but I am going to say that it matters.

This post invites conversation on many points (from the important to the ridiculous) and I'd love to hear your thoughts on any or all of them. Am I an idiot for spending so much money on my hair?  Does your significant other know the price tag on your haircut (or clothes or manicures or . . . you get the picture)? ? Do you agree that looks can be an important component in being able to achieve one's goals?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Know your Weaknesses

My simple yet effective solution for the fact that I kept forgetting the flash drive on which every piece of work-work I need resides--I don't put the drive in until I put the sign up. I also copy everything on the flash drive to my home computer every couple of weeks. People laugh at me, but I don't care!

Between Interruptions: A Book Review and Giveaway Post

I was excited to get the opportunity to review this book of essays reflecting upon motherhood, Between Interruptions. The description from the website sum the collection up well.

Most mothers don't have time for long conversations. They may want them, crave them, begin them again and again, but they are constantly interrupted by kids, partners, work and the day-to-day of busy lives. Between Interruptions is a remarkable collection of original essays by Canadian writers that explores what is unspoken, cut off or lost in those interrupted conversations. Between Interruptions asks what becomes of us when our children's lives interrupt our own. What prayers, what cries, what taboo thoughts are suddenly left unspoken? Marina Jimenez struggles with her decision to return to her job as a journalist—in a war zone. Carrie-Anne Moss lets us into her home during her self-imposed, forty-day seclusion after the birth of her first son. Chantal Kreviazuk learns to surrender to the limitations of motherhood. Joanna Streetly struggles to find a balance between protecting and letting go. Elizabeth Renzetti and Karrina Onstad search for friends in mommyland. And Estee Klar-Wolfond finds perfection in autism. Provocative, funny and honest, Between Interruptions highlights the differences and similarities between mothers today and generations past. It is, without a doubt, a conversation worth having.

The essays in this book are very well-written and the lives the authors lead are, by and large, very interesting.

It was actually the very interesting lives of the women in the story that had me feeling a bit disconnected from the book at first. I was hoping to feel the connection with the writers that I often feel with other mothers whose blogs I read. These mothers, by and large, though are of a very different breed than I am and once I started reading the book with a more anthropological eye, I found it fascinating.

What made the essays so absorbing was the variety of ways that these women came to motherhood and the ways they reconciled, or absorbed, motherhood into their lives.

Lisa, at TLC Book Tours, who gave me the book for review has also generously allowed me to give away a copy of this book--I'll choose a winner randomly from the comments on this post; so tell me, for those of you that have children, did you find the adjustment from non-mother to mother easy or difficult?