Teeter-tottering: Life as a Mom, Wife, Mom-in-Business, Woman!

Sleep-deprived

2007-10-05T02:56:00.000-04:00

Why in Zeus' name am I unable to sleep at night when I'm supposed to? Here I am at 3 am writing in my blog which I pretty much have forgotten about anyway when I can be sinking deep into blissful sleep.

I blame my Type-A personality. And the dark chocolate that I inhaled an hour ago. I take comfort in the fact that I'm sure somewhere in this city, another mom is awake too; perhaps breastfeeding her newborn baby...or maybe changing yet another poopy nappy. Hey, what mom out there isn't sleep-deprived anyway, right?

My Mommyfesto : Lowered Expectations

2007-05-04T00:17:00.000-04:00

My life is hectic. And I'm a hectic kind of a person; always in a rush. So I make an effort to slow down once in a while, to catch my breath and to just be in the moment. My daughter is really good at reminding me to do just that. So is my husband, come to think of it. They both inspire and bribe me into chilling out and taking it easy.

My life is hectic and I'm harried because there is just no way that I can do all that I need to do in the time that it needs to be done. Balancing motherhood with a career is something that I've proven I cannot do. And it took me a couple of years and some good pscyhotherapy to realize and accept that this "failure" to balance my life is not my fault. And that it isn't even a "failure" at all. How can I fail at something that just cannot be done? It's like saying "I failed to grow wings and I've been trying so hard to do so for the last 2 years."

So a year later, here I am, still hectic and harried, but actually happy. I'm happy now because I've learned to lower my expectations -- something that doesn't come easy to a perfectionist and a control freak like me. My lowered expectations do not translate to my accepting mediocrity; instead, it just means re-prioritizing my life and my responsibilities as a mom, a wife, a mompreneur, a woman. And it goes something like this:

1. Let her be. As long as my daughter is safe and healthy and happy, then I'm doing a good job. I do not buy her fancy, electronic gizmos and only buy her clothes on sale or consignment, but I build sandcastles with her and play Candyland with her till I'm blue in the face. On days when I have to sit in front of my computer and work for a couple of hours, I feel guilty that I'm not "doing" anything with her...then I realize that she's learned to occupy and amuse herself, that her imaginary sister and brother and dog are playing with her anyway and that I'm not horrid for just letting her BE. She always comes first in my life but there is no competition so she doesn't need to be first anywhere else. Perhaps it was because she was born prematurely and was just never by the book in terms of her milestones, but we were never ones to compare our daughter with her peers. We just let her be.

2. Rotate and take turns. That goes for everyone and everything because there's only one of me and a lot of them (people and chores and stuff). Some days, I get to answer most of my emails and return all my business phone calls, but that means that I don't get to vacuum or read "The Lorax" with my daughter when she asked me to. Other days, my daughter and I spend all morning toboganning and making snow angels, and I end up staying up till 2 am catching up on my business work. I've also been known to not do the laundry for weeks -- which is why we all own around 3 dozen pairs of underwear and socks. True, I abhor most if not all household chores, but I do get to the laundry when there's nowhere else to walk on in the bedrooms. I triage the stuff that I need to do, and if it isn't life-imploding, then it can wait even longer. Especially when it's a gorgeous sunny day and we can be outside playing and NOT doing chores.

3. Beauty is skin-deep. The last time I had my nails done was in 2001, and I've left the house with wet hair during the winter. But I'm always clean and neat, and so is my daughter. As much as I love to look good and dress well, some days, I just don't have the time or the inclination or the presence of mind to put on a little make-up and wear something other than yoga pants and runners. Sometimes, it's simply because there are no other clean clothes left to wear. However, in spite of my all-too-casual attitude about my physical appearance, I know that I look good as long as I feel good, outfit and frizzy hair notwithstanding. Except when I'm PMSing, then of course, no pair of skinny jeans nor amount of mineral make-up can ever make me feel not pugly.

4. A little bit won't hurt. I'm a stickler for good nutrition. My 4-year-old daughter has never had candy or corndogs, and has no idea what McDonald's or Coke or Oreo is. I have the Food Pyramid engraved in my pscyhe, and even if all else fails, I'm always able to put a good meal on the table with all the food groups accounted for. But I'm not perfect (shhh... don't tell my hubby!) On the days when I just cannot cook, we order pizza. Or get Chinese food. And I feed it to my daughter without beating myself up over the amount of sodium or whatnot that she's consuming that night because, hey, a little bit won't hurt. Same goes for the dust that accumulates on the bookshelves. And on the TV. And on every hard surface at home.

5. Party at home. Since becoming parents, my husband and I can count the number of times that we've been out on a date at night. Partly because we didn't want to leave our daughter; largely because we don't have the money to spend on a babysitter and dinner and a show. While I wouldn't turn down a night about town especially if it means getting all gussied up and feeling sexy, I have come to really appreciate the value of being secure in the knowledge that it's not where I am that matters, but rather, who I am with. And sitting on the sofa munching on tortilla chips while watching "Heroes" and holding hands with my guy...that's the kind of partying that I love to do.

6. Jump on the bed. I have to applaud IKEA for making such sturdy bed frames. Or maybe applaud my husband who put our bed frame together. Because the three of us have all jumped on that bed at the same time and it's still standing. Some of the best Sundays we've had as a family were spent at home doing nothing. Except jumping on the bed. And playing hide and seek. Or getting locked out of our house and jimmying the screen and window so our daughter can climb in and unlock the back door for us. Our lives and schedule sare crazy enough during the week. Sundays are sacred; a time to be thankful and do nothing much.

7. I'm worth it. As a new mom, I was consumed by the enormity of motherhood. I strived to be the selfless and loving mother who gave her all without asking for anything in return. The martyrdom only lasted for as long as my sanity held out...which was for a total of 3 years and 2 months. Quite a long stretch for a mom to go without regular me-times because she was feeling guilty about taking the time and the money to treat herself; to find herself really. When I became a mom and subsequently gave up my career, I really felt a loss of self especially as I never envisioned my life as NOT an architect. I didn't know about the dichotomy that motherhood would bring into the mix. I thought I would just append "mothering" onto my existing self and move on from there. It took me awhile to not feel ashamed to tell people that I was a stay-at-home mom. I felt boring and uninteresting and unable to keep up with my husband who spent his days in deep lawyerly thought with other deep lawyerly thinkers. It was in the darkest days of my depression that I found myself again. In an effort to get better, I took the time that my husband offered me: the time to be by myself, the time to exercise and be active, the time to rediscover who I am and what I am about. And I did. I learned to accept my limitations, learned to accept the fact that as a mom, perfection is not an option. It took a lot of time and money, but I'm worth it. To this day, I continue to take the time for myself -- at the gym, as I work in my own business, at Boston Pizza with my fellow moms and girlfriends, because not only am I worth it, but my family is worth getting better and staying well for.

Nosing Around

2007-04-13T23:45:00.000-04:00

Scents and smells always bring back very strong memories for me. The scent of pineapples and coconuts remind me of childhood summers spent at Puerto Azul; the sulphuric smell of boiled eggs conjures up pictures of that rickety wooden bridge that we used to drive over on the way to school. On gray and rainy afternoons, the ground and roads here give off the same damp, dank smell that the grounds and roads in my birth place used to give off...funny how that is considering the fact that I was born halfway across the world.

We were a cologne-toting, perfume-using family. Joy was my Mom's trademark scent and so was White Linen; Halston was my Dad's, as was Polo. Us girls doused ourselves with De Ne Nes and Nenuco. I love how by simply sniffing bottles of these colognes and perfumes, I could go back to places long left behind, and times long gone. Scents to me are like time machines that allow me to traverse decades.

And true to form, decades later, I find myself still using bottled scents to define who I am at that time in my life, and to mark moments in my life. I'm no olfaction expert or perfume connoisseur; all I am is emotionally responsive to certain scents. My daughter's baby cologne is Baby Bench. Practically speaking, she really doesn't need any scent-enhancers because she is just delicious-smelling the way she is. But still I use a dab or two on her every so often so that on days when I miss her when she's gone off to back-pack in Tibet, I can pick up a bottle of Baby Bench and revisit these times when we would sit in front of my dresser together, arguing about why she cannot wear sandals in March.

When my husband and I first started dating, he was a cologne-virgin. He relied on his after-shave for that freshly-showered scent. His first full bottle of cologne was from my Mom, ironically, which she gave to him during our first Christmas together. I wonder how my Mom knew what to pick for him... because that scent is totally him. I love how that scent smells on him. Almost 10 years of marriage later, I still melt when he comes to kiss me and I get a whiff of Eternity.

It's come full circle, this obsession (another free Calvin Klein endorsement) of mine with scent. And I don't believe it will ever stop evolving and revolving... from Joy to Eternity.

MBA: Mompreneur in Business Administration

2007-04-13T13:45:00.000-04:00

I don't have an MBA - well not the kind that one gets from a university. I don't even have formal training in website design or administration.

Everything I know and everything I've learned, I've gained through self-study and research; through listening and talking with others who know more than I do. I am a self-taught MBA.

One of the most helpful things that I've learned as a mompreneur is what I call The Management Equation. I didn't come up with it - I learned it from the orientation session for self-employment benefits.

It goes like this:TIME MANAGEMENT + RELATIONSHIP MANAGEMENT = MONEY MANAGEMENT.

As every mom and mompreneur knows, time management IS key to getting things done -- all the things that we need to do, done in a timely manner. It is no easy task to meet deadlines on time when you have a toddler or two or three who also needs your attention right away. So we prioritize and reorganize our time and tasks. I reserve the things that can wait until after my daughter has gone to bed for my night-work-hours and only tackle the must-do-during-business-hours during my official office hours at home (official to me and my girl, that is) or when my daughter is in school (which is when I schedule my meetings).

Relationship management encompasses all the relationships that we have: personal and business. As busy as our days get, we need to make sure that we remember to nurture our relationships. Return our phone calls, answer our emails, setting dates and meetings and playdates and lunches and just-hanging-out times. After all, the people who have invested in us -- emotionally and personally and financially -- are also the people that we care about, and we need to take care of them too.

Finally, when we are able to get the addends right and are able to manage both our time and our relationships, then we get the sum of the equation and we succeed...we can have the pleasure of managing some of that money.

Of course, this isn't ALL that we need to do and know in order to succeed in our businesses, but without these management skills, I imagine it might make navigating the road to success trickier than necessary.

Fall Seven Times...Stand Up Eight

2007-04-13T13:40:00.000-04:00

"I don't like to fall Mommy! I want to never fall again!" Straight from the mouth of my babe.

As I go over to hug her and wipe her tears, and whisper "I know, I know; that hurts and it's frustrating..." I think to myself, "I want to never fall again too."

And before I knew it, I had actually said it out loud.

Panic...did I just say the wrong thing?

Then she looks at me, and she says, "Why do we fall down if no one wants to fall?"

"So we can learn to get up and go again," I say to her.

"But I know how to get up already!"

"I know you do; but we get better at getting up every time we fall."

...fall seven times, stand up eight...from a Japanese proverb.

To Daddy, With Love

2007-04-13T13:35:00.000-04:00

I wish I could take back the words that I know hurt you more than anything that I could have said.
I wish I could thank you again for the things that you gave me and the things that you did for me.
I wish I could feel your rough hand on my cheek one more time.
I wish I could run into your arms when I'm feeling sad and afraid and overwhelmed.
I wish I could pick up the telephone and call you when I miss you.
I wish I could show you how proud I am of who you are and who I am because of you.

All I can do now is do all that you did for me for my own child, and wish that you will see that I am paying forward all that you gave to me.

Top 10 Lessons By A 4-Year-Old Mom

2007-04-13T13:31:00.000-04:00

That's me - a 4-year-old mom. Sure I'm 36 years of age, but really only a 4-year-old mother. As I always say, when a child is born to a first-time mom, a mother is born too. So here I am four beautiful and confusing years later; and I do feel like I am wiser somehow. At least I like to believe so.

10. Never leave home without a bottle of water, wipes or paper towels, and an extra change of clothes, no matter how old your child gets. Especially if they're the throwing up kind. Or you can just hang out with friends (like Pinky + Dani) who never leave their homes without an extra change of clothes and the like.

9. Work will always be there and it will never, ever get done. Neither will the laundry. Nor the dishes. But the sun is only out for a limited time so might as well go out and enjoy the day.

8. Leaving the clean laundry in the trunk of the car overnight preserves their freshly-laundered scent. At least that's my excuse.

7. It sucks to always be told what to do - when my daughter bosses me around, I realize that she's just mimicking me and I make a mental note to hold my tongue and let her be as long as she isn't getting hurt or doing harm to others.

6. Washable paint isn't always that washable. Ditto with markers - except the Crayola brand which are come off more easily than other makes.

5. If you breastfeed long enough, you and your child can actually reminisce together and talk about those times...we did and I can't believe how much she remembers.

4. If you inhale their scent deeply enough, you can find traces of the newborn baby smell that you will never forget.

3. There is nothing more heart-wrenching than your child saying to you, "I love you too too much, Mommy. I love you more than you love me!" when you're upset at something they did and in the middle of giving a consequence.

2. Nothing ever really prepared me for motherhood, but having grown up cocooned by my own mother's selfless love has made me into a better mom than I ever thought I could be.

1. I may be raising a child, an adult in my daughter, but everyday and every moment that I am with her, I am aware of how she in turn, is raising me as a mother.

Ziploc Freak

2007-04-13T13:26:00.000-04:00

I'm an organization freak. I get off on it and when my stuff gets disorganized, I get overwhelmed and even depressed. If I could file my vegetables and fruits, I'm sure I would. (Un)fortunately, my kitchen is too small and my fridge too inaccessible for such inane an activity.

My daughter's snack bag, however...ahhhh totally accessible and totally organizeable. I Ziploc everything in that little pink bag - it's my way of "filing" the food in there.

Using Ziplocs of different sizes of course:

snack size Ziploc - love these cute little baggies! Perfect for a tiny serving of fruit, or cereal. Or a spoon if I decide to be so mundane as to actually separate the yogurt sppoon from the yogurt, which will go in the...
sandwich size Ziploc - fits a single-serving of yogurt, or the tiny Glad container of yogurt if I'm feeling zealous and thrifty enough to buy big tubs of yogurt and scooping it out into the tiny Glad plasticware. Also fits a sandwich (doh!), a couple of mini bagels, or a tiny banana. Love putting yogurt in a baggie because if there isn't a trash can nearby, then the whole yogurty-mess goes back i the baggie. Paper napkin is also always packed in here.
Mini-freezer Ziploc bag - drinks go in here, or a big banana, or a container of cut-up fruit with a plastic fork or a plastic toothpick. And snack bars.
Daddy freezer Ziploc bag - my absolute favourite thing in the scheme of organization! Love it almost as much as my file folders. Big drink cups and all the other Ziploc baggies all go in here...then in my purse if I'm not planning on carrying her snack bag. Extra change of clothes also fit in this amazingly versatile baggie. And bath products of all sorts. And bigger servings of food... I could go on.Pathetic, aren't I?If only the rest of my life and home were as easy to organize and keep in order.