3...2...1...Contact

I put contact paper on the shelf in the laundry room. A small victory. Some might question calling this a victory at all. But it is. Because I bought this contact paper when we first moved into this house. In July 2012. So...yeah.

I bought it because my mom had taught me that's what you do in a new home or apartment. You put down contact paper. In the cabinets. In the drawers. You clean the surface, you measure, you cut, you carefully place down this strip of magical paper that...what? Is easy to clean? Is pretty? That puts your personal stamp on your new home? Who knows. But that's what you do.

And I never did it. I bought it. And it sat. In the basement. So much was overwhelming me- the move, unpacking, our finances, my son, then my pregnancy, then being a SAHM for TWO tiny boys, and where I fit into this new Home with a capital H I was trying to create. The project, the PROCESS, of the contact paper was just too much fuss with too little reward in my mind.

But as I declared 2015 The Year I Pull It Together, that contact paper taunted me from the corner of the basement. My mom was a perfectionist. Hospital corners when she made the bed. Pictures hung with measuring tape and a level. And she was GOOD at finding perfection in her home. She enjoyed it. But why was I waiting and waiting and putting off and putting off doing this task because I didn't  have time to do it perfectly or completely. The way my mother would have. I'm not her. I don't need to be. It won't make me crazy if the paper is crooked or not just right. But I do like a little order. Just a little. There's nothing wrong with just a little if it's all ya need, right?

So there it is. Just a little.

It feels good. It feels right. It feels silly that I didn't do it earlier. It's a little (a lot) messy, but it's cute, it's fine, it's functional.

I think I'm going to lay some down in the drawers in the bathroom we put our tooth brushes in, too. Because that's been driving me nuts as well. It won't be pretty. But it will be fine.

And sometimes "just fine" is fine. Is okay. Is actually perfect.

Zero Hour, Five A.M.

Between 5 and 6 a.m. I am the most popular girl in our house. Every morning, in this hour right before the sun comes up, the baby wakes calling "Mama", at first cute and endearing, but rapidly morphing into a primal scream. After I go to the baby, pick up the baby and start nursing the baby, then, and only then, do BOTH the 3 1/2 year old and the 2 dogs start vying for my attention with a chorus of whining. Everyone needs me. Right now. RIGHT NOW.

As someone who is not a morning person, this is not exactly the best way to start the day. And when I say I'm not a morning person, I am being kind. When I was in high school, my father used to find me lying on the floor in the fetal position, after I got out of bed, often for 20-30 minutes, because I couldn't rally to get myself dressed just yet. I would fortify myself a sugar rush provided by pop tarts or donuts back in those days because my parents didn't drink coffee and it didn't occur to me to buy it and make it myself.

Grad school and, well, life, taught me about coffee and the power of allowing time in the morning to just be, wake up slowly and greet the day on my terms. But babies and boys and dogs have just not got the memo. No matter how many time I patiently try to explain it to all of them. Babies and boys and dogs all not the best listeners.

So here I am. Desperately craving donuts. Or pop tarts. Or some kind of delicious, easy fast food breakfast that tastes like comfort and doesn't require me to DO anything but eat it. Because everyone around here already NEEDS me. I don't want my breakfast to ask a lot of me, too.

But a I take a breath, pour myself a cup of coffee and warm up this pear baked oatmeal I cleverly managed to make earlier in the week and keep in the fridge for this very moment.  



Score 1 for being a grown up.

SAHM I Am Not

I wrote this right before I went back to work in August. I am posting it here because on a day like today, a day when I spent 8 hours attempting (and failing) to write one work e-mail while juggling/entertaining/feeding/disciplining/keeping alive both kids, it is good to be reminded why I am doing this...

Next week I head back to work. YIKES! Many of my mommy (and daddy) friends think I'm nuts. I have an infant and a 3 year old and I was staying home with them. Staying home with them during this magical time before school and friends take over their little minds and when I alone instead am their everything. So here are my top 5 reasons why I am choosing to return to work...

5) We Are Broke & I Like to Eat Out-   When we moved from NYC to College Town in Missouri in 2007 our mantra became "HERE WE LIVE LIKE KINGS!!!" When we pulled up to the 3 bedroom house I had rented that cost 1/2 what we paid for our 500 sq/ft apartment in NYC , my husband honestly thought I was joking. "Shut UP. We live here?? We don't live here." But there we did live. And in 2 years we managed to pay off all of our NYC debt and (gasp!) start saving.  We didn't stress the bills at the end of the month. We didn't stress financially at all. Wow! People actually LIVE like this!!?!?? Our eyes were opened.  But then when we moved to Suburbia of Big City and I stopped working, we not only lost 1 salary, but also our insanely low cost of living. Suburbia costs twice as much to live in as College Town when one figures in housing costs, insurance, taxes, groceries, basically everything. Now there are certainly perks that go with all that extra expenditure. Perks we enjoy. And frankly we wouldn't have been so footloose and fancy free in Missouri if we only had one paycheck. But the perfect storm of less income and more expenses put us right back into budgeting every penny, worrying about every expense, and we went back to stressing.  No more dinners just cause I didn't feel like cooking or coffee treat because dang it we deserve a coffee treat.

4) Two Words: Polar Vortex- You guys! You guys! Did ya hear about the Polar Vortex? Of course you did. Everyone heard about the F'ing Polar Vortex because it SUUUUUCCCCKKED and the media loves emphasizing things that have catchy names and suck. Do you know what sucks worse than Polar Vortex? Being 400 months pregnant stuck inside with overactive 2 1/2 year old during polar vortex. The experience killed a bit of my crafty, creative, industrious SAHM (Stay At Home Mom) soul.

3) You Can Take the Girl Out of the Theatre....- Look, I spent a lot of time (15 years) & money (let's not talk about it) becoming fairly knowledgeable about theatre. And I really like to share that knowledge with people who want to hear about it. It had become part of who I was. And I miss her. I miss that woman who fights with 18 year olds about "I liked it" vs. "It's good theatre" and "I hated it" vs. "It's bad". I miss her watching students suddenly discover Chekhov IS funny.  I miss her re-reading the same text book for the 100th time and learning something new. I miss her.

2) I've Got A Golden Ticket!- A tenure track position at a university is a golden ticket for a working artist. It just is. And like a golden ticket, a lot of it is about being at the right place at the right time. The fact that I got this offer from a college that is commutable is unbelievable. And it would be ding dong crazy to turn it down.

1) I Am Not A Good Stay At Home Mom- I am just not. I think I am a pretty great mom. But I think the longer I am a SAHM, the less great I will become. When I was young I asked my mother why she decided to go back to work and I remember she was very quiet for what seemed like a long time and I thought I had made her sad. But then she said very simply "Stacy, I think going to work makes me a better mom. Even though I miss you very much, it makes me a better mom." While I didn't quite understand it at the time, it obviously struck me because I remember it so vividly. I am SO grateful that I was able to try this. I pride myself on living life without regrets. And I tried and failed at this. So I walk away knowing this is not my path. I don't have to wonder. I will always cherish and treasure the focused time I have had with my children. And maybe in a few years I will feel differently. But I think right now, I (just me, maybe not you, but me) I will be a better mom if I go back to work.  For me, and again just me, not you, me, I want to buy my kid an ice cream cone once in a while without doing the math in my head. I want to joyfully arrive home, tingling with anticipation to see my kids and give them big hugs instead of dreading the next meltdown and hiding from them in the shower. I want my kids to know that woman who has a lot to say and even more to learn about art and life and the messy place where they intersect in the theatre. I want my kids to see and maybe, dare I say it, be proud of a mom who worked her butt off to get to the right place at the right time. Me, just me, not you, but me. Right now, this is me. And when my kids ask me, "Why did you choose to leave us and go back to work?" I will get very quiet and maybe even a little sad and I will then say "Even though I miss you very much, it makes me a better mom."

Do I think this is going to be easy? Heck NO. I have had 2 anxiety attacks just writing this  and can guarantee I need to throw up as you read this. Do I regret staying home with my kid(s) these past couple of years? Heck DOUBLE NO. I have so much respect for the SAHM and maybe one day in the future, I will again join their ranks. But now, I must turn in my card and then pour myself a cup of ambition, yawn and stretch and try to come to life.**

**I didn't write that last part. She did.

The Ice Ring In My Freezer

 

I wrote this in January 2013. As another New Year begins, it's a good reminder to myself. Here's to a year of hanging up ice rings.

The sad, sad tale of the ice ring in my freezer. Told through a series of vignettes with my husband...

December 3, 2012
Husband: Honey what the hell is in the freezer?
Me: I went to Trader Joe's today and...
H: No. No. The pan with ice.
Me: Oh. That's our Winter Ice Ring.
H: Am I supposed to know what that is?
Me: I decided that's going to be a tradition. As a start to the winter Holiday season, M & I went on walk to gather winter swag to put in our ice ring. We made it and now we will hang it up out front as a start to the holidays. It's going to be our thing. I did most of it this year, but he can help more and more as he gets older.
H: Okay. That's sweet. When are you hanging it up?
Me: First day of Hanukkah

December 10, 2012
Husband: Babe, you know your ice ring is still in the freezer.
Me: I know. I know. I totally flaked. We are going to hang it up the LAST night of Hanukkah instead.

December 18, 2012
Husband: Honey, can I toss this ice ring?
Me: NO! NO!! Stop!! I am going to hang it up!!
H: Okay, but Hanukkah is over and it takes up a whole shelf in our fridge.
Me: I know! I know! But we're going to hang it up this week before your family gets in town for Christmas.

December 24, 2012
Husband: Hey, did the ice ring melt?
Me: No. UGH! I tried to hang it up today, but I couldn't reach the branch on the tree out front and then I tried in the bushes, but it broke and shattered. So I remade it. It will be frozen tomorrow.
H: Uh..okay...but why did you remake it?
Me: BECAUSE IT IS OUR "THING"!! Look this is important to me. We need traditions as a family. Maybe this happened for a reason. Maybe your nieces can help tomorrow and instead of a start to the holiday season it can be something the kids all do together? Isn't that cute?
H: (pause. pause.) Yes. Cute. Okay. So tomorrow?
Me: Yes. Tomorrow. I swear.

December 30, 2012
Husband: No no son. Don't touch Mommy's Ice Ring. It lives in the freezer now. Forever.
Me: Don't be a smart ass. I am hanging it up January 1. It's a beautiful way to start the New Year. Dontcha think?
H: (silence)

January 5, 2012
Husband: Oh look an Ice Ring in the freezer!
Me: (silence)
H: This is nuts. I am tossing this.
Me: NO! Don't you dare.

 My New Years Resolution is simple and not so simple.

I am awesome at embracing process. I thrive in process.I thrive in possibility. I struggle finding the end.  I shun the completion of anything because I fear realizing what I could have done better and being unable to change it. I fear what comes next.  I am the queen of "Yes, and...", but sometimes life calls for  "yes" or "no".
This year I am going to practice hanging up the f'ing Ice Ring.

Working Out my Working Out Issues

Exercise is good for you blah blah blah 30 minutes of cardio 3 times a week blah blah blah strength training blah blah blah UGH.

Here's the truth- I. HATE. WORKING. OUT.
Seriously hate it. Yes. Hate IS a strong word and it accurately defines my relationship with working out.
What is "working out"? In my world, it's moving your body for the express purpose of improving physical and mental health vs. accomplishing a tangible immediate task.
Running? Working out.  Running away from a mugger? Tangible immediate task.
Walking? Working out. Walking around the farmer's market? Tangible immediate task
Pilates? Working out. Reaching that mixing bowl I inexplicably put on the top shelf? Tangible immediate task.
Yoga? Working out. Standing in line and ultimately not punching anyone at the DMV? Tangible immediate task.

In my 20+ years of trying to come to terms with my hatred of working out, I have discovered that people seem to fall into 1 of 3 categories when it comes to exercise-

Vivian Zink/Bravo Photo

1. There are people who LOVE exercise and working out. It may be challenging to find the time and it may push their limits, but they are blessed with "the runner's high" the endorphins. Or maybe there is something about the action itself that gives them comfort or peace.  Whatever.  They genuinely find joy in working out. I hate these people. Okay, in this case hate is too strong a word. I am very, very jealous of these people.

2. There are people who dislike the actual "working out" of working out- they find it unpleasant or boring. There are a million other things they would rather be doing. However once they do it, they feel good. They feel better after they work out. It ends up burning off stress or making them feel proud of the accomplishment. There is some tangible immediate reward for doing it and the fact that it makes them healthier is an added bonus. They may moan or groan, they may fall off the wagon sometimes, but ultimately working out proves to be a positive experience. I have strived to be this person.

Puppy shuns exercise. She is also not supposed to be on the couch.

3. Finally there are the people who just hate it. It does NOT feel good in the moment. It does NOT feel good during or immediately following. There are no endorphins. There is no stress burn. In fact, stress is manifested. Body aches during and after no matter how many different personal trainers are consulted or different exercise/work out activities are attempted. It doesn't get better even if they commit to it for months. It's hard to breathe. It hurts. It's boring. It sucks. These are my people. I am one of them.

In my continuing exploration of who I think I should be vs. who I am, I keep hoping to discover I am #2. Part of my frustration with exercise is that I think I SHOULD like it. I want to be The Girl who does Pilates. Or the Girl who runs 5Ks. And while there is no part of the act, during or immediately following, that I enjoy, I do have to acknowledge that when I am working-out in some fashion on a regular basis I look healthier and I like the way my clothes fit. I am able to do more physically for work and play. I get sick less and I sleep better.

So recently I have been thinking I need to just embrace #3. There are a lot of things in life I don't like that I do anyway because it's just what needs to happen. I hate cleaning the floors. I hate paying taxes. I hate dealing with the DMV. But these things that must be done because I don't want to live in filth, I don't want to go to jail, and I don't want to get a ticket.

January 2015, I am going to start slow. 30 minutes of walking or some kind of organized cardio (chasing 3 year old around house doesn't count) 3 days a week. But this time, I am going to try just being cranky about it. I am going to hate it. And I am going to be okay with that. A girls gotta do what a girls gotta do.