One of my biggest pet peeves after I first had my son was when everyone told me to ”nap when the baby naps.” Even if I was a bleary-eyed, drooling mess, no matter how little sleep I got, I couldn’t nap “on demand.”  But isn’t it that how this whole baby thing works? You never get to do things when you actually want to do them. So it was much to my chagrin this week when I read about a new study on the benefits of napping. Like, that napping can possiby prevent you from a heart attack. (I personally think not changing messy diapers is the sure fire way to prevent heart attacks, but I’m not a scientist.) Just another thing for me to try to squeeze into my already jam packed days – a nap! (I think the people who write these articles are conspiring against new mothers with that Baby Whisperer woman who says you can schedule your child at the ridiculous age of 3 weeks or something.)
And the kicker? I also read that some people get to sleep at work.  Why don’t you just schedule my triple-bypass surgery now? I don’t know about you, but I don’t have time to nap. Not at work, not at home. My days are too busy with conference calls, meetings, errand running and oh yeah, taking care of a baby.  I don’t care if napping will “recharge my batteries” better than a ”chocolate bar” (which, if you eat too much WILL give you a heart attack.)  I don’t believe you when you say that napping is a way to “gain a competitive edge.”  Diet Coke is working just fine, thank you.  I’m anti-nap. So while you’re snoozing under your desk today, here’s my “just say no to napping” strategy.
- I will drink at least two caffeinated beverages a day. A hot one in the morning, and a cold one in the afternoon. Even if it costs me $5 a day.
- If I’m feeling drowsy in the late afternoon I will haul my butt to Old Navy to poke around for a few. Nothing gives me an adrenaline rush like finding a cute top on sale.
- I will go to bed at 9:30 every night. This is not good news for my husband, but I only have so much time in my day.
- I am going to banish boring from my vocabulary. The sure fire way to ensure napping is to be bored. So, no boring books, no boring projects at work. Excitement is my new middle name.
- I am going to tune out all my WAHM and SAHM friends who tell me what a good nap they had today. They are dead to me. Even though it is harder work to stay at home. They still don’t deserve it.
Who’s on board with my anti-napping plan? Ok, you probably don’t want to croak early. But at least you will have had a happier busier life.
Tags: napping, working mom, SAHM
Flying with children in the middle of winter between some of the nation’s busiest airports is always a crapshoot. That’s why I wasn’t so surprised when they 
cancelled my flight today from LaGuardia to O’Hare (the cause? “weather” somewhere in Pennsylvania is my guess, damn you Nittany Lions.) So, I’m stuck in New York City for another day at my friend’s apartment in Manhattan. The downside? I don’t get to see my husband tonight and I have to figure out how I’m going to make up work tomorrow. The upside? I scored a great pair of suede winter boots on mega sale (sort of like the ones on the left, but in black) and I get to watch the Oscars with someone who actually wants to watch it. Things could be worse. A lot worse.
That’s why I was surprised when my friend texted me that I was a “brave mama” for traveling to New York City alone with my 11-month old.  Is traveling with children that brave? Am I a hero and just don’t know it yet? Let’s see…
- I managed to get my son, his stroller, 2 carry-ons and myself through security without a whimper uttered. The key – do not put baby shoes on your child. TSA will make you take them off. I’m not joking.Â
- I fed him a well-balance breakfast of pears and a banana while waiting to board. I’ve found stroller-feeding to be just as effective and actually less messy than highchair feeding. Think my Bugaboo will look bad in my kitchen?
- I timed the plane ride to coincide with nap time, so we both could snooze mid-air. Hey, a 30-minute cat nap is better than no nap in my book. If only the stewardess would have lowered her voice just a notch when she told us we could use our portable electronic devices. Just a notch.
- I called a car service to help me with my luggage and so I could actually attach his car seat to something resembling a seat belt (my friends don’t drive in Manhattan and I don’t do cabs with babies.) Unfortunately, I ruined my nails trying to attach the seat to the LATCH system. Why is it so hard to find in between the seat cushions??
- Meester Liger makes it easy for my son to sleep anywhere. He’s pretty much good to go anywhere as long as he can suck on the corner of the blanket. Good thing I brought 6 of them. Again, not joking.
- It took 4 tries, but I finally found the right kind of formula at Gristedes. Do people on the Upper West Side not believe in bottle feeding? Not only was Gristedes the only place that sold this brand of formula, but I paid $16 for a 12 oz. jar. So I had to forgo the cute pair of leggings I saw at Urban Outfitters. Ah, the sacrifices us mothers make.
- My friend found a baby sitter at the last minute so we could attend my friend’s birthday party. And I even remembered to tell the babysitter my son’s name just as we were walking out the door! (He was asleep already, OK!?)
- And, last but not least, I mastered the art of drinking my nonfat-extra-hot-no-water-chai-latte while pushing my son’s stroller and holding the bag with the boots that I bought. I may have looked like a total ass walking down 88th St., but damn I love my chai. Oh and if you’re wondering, chivalry is completely dead at the Starbucks on 86th and Columbus. Hey, lady working on your computer – thank you for watching me as I rammed my son’s foot into the door trying to get out. That was so nice of you.
So am I that brave? I can’t answer that. Gotta go get my screaming son. Nap time didn’t go exactly as I had planned this afternoon. But don’t all heros have flaws?
Tags: traveling with children
Sometime Monday evening, after a rousing hour of Prison Break and a lame dinner of canned soup and Ethnic Gourmet Pad Thai with Tofu (Foodmomiac, please don’t hate me), I snuck away from my husband to check up on my most prized possession: my son my blog. Thinking I was being covert in my mission, I quickly monitored my page views for the day (not any higher than the day before), went to my admin site to see if anyone had commented on my latest post (nope) and rushed into the bathroom pretending like I had done what I told my husband I would do: turn off the computer. I was then confronted with the stark reality of my actions while brushing my teeth.
Husband: “What were you doing?”
Me: “Just turning off the computer.”
Husband: “No you weren’t, you were ABUSIVE BLOGGING.”
Me: (spits into sink)
Abusive blogging? Who me?  Truth be told, my husband and I did set some blogging ground rules not too long ago when I spent 20+ hours over a weekend working on my site redesign (it may look nice, but it basically ruined my marriage for a 48-hour period.) So after my teeth were clean and my pajamas were on, I went over our rules to see if I was abusing the terms of our agreement.
Blogging Rule #1: No blogging if my son is tugging at my pant legs to be picked up. Or needs to eat. Or needs a diaper change. Basically, no blogging during my son’s awake time.
Blogging Rule #2: Nighttime is hubby time. No computer past 8:30 p.m. unless I have a good reason.  Like somebody famous e-mailed me and offered me lots of money for my writing.Â
Blogging Rule #3: I’m only allowed to tell a maximum of 2 stories (for a total of 25 minutes) related to my blog per day. And no storytelling or bouncing ideas off DH during any type of sporting event on TV.Â
Blogging Rule #4: No asking DH if he reads the site. If he reads it, he’ll let me know how brilliant and creative I am. Trust him, he will.
Blogging Rule #5: Remember that I have a real job that pays me. Right. Back to work now.
The verdict? I may have been a blog abuser this week, but I’m taking my son to the Big Apple this weekend, so you won’t hear from me for a little while. And, I’d love to hear if you have set blog ground rules with your family as well. But don’t tell my DH; I don’t want him adding to the list.
 Tags: blogging, blog, blogging rules, rules for blogging
by selfmademom on February 22, 2007 · 1 comment
I took the test 2 years ago and am ESTJ (Extraverted Thinking with Sensing). My problem solving approach? “I want to logically analyze and control situations (Thinking) based on pertinent facts and relevant details. (Sensing)” Right.  Like babies can be controlled. Logical? I don’t know a new mother who is also logical. If you can find one, tell me. I’ll give a reward.  Sensing, I’ll give myself that one. I can smell a dirty diaper from a mile away. But seriously, there’s something to this… My preferred learning style is active, hands-on, and done in a structured way. Maybe this is why I was a crazy person getting my son on a nap schedule… What personality type are you?
- She works, has a daughter and can sing, too:
I’m a huge American Idol fan, and I just love LaKisha Jones. How she can work at a bank, raise a 4-year old and sing like that is beyond me. Talk about multitasking.  I’ll be voting for you LaKisha! Â
- And you thought you got asked to do some crazy stuff at work…
Debra Pickett of the Chicago Sun-Times resigned from her job last week in part after being called with an assignment to breast-feed her son in public and write about her experience. Let’s just say she was out of there faster than you can say colostrum. Thank goodness I’m a Tribune subscriber.
- MomsRising on the rise:
Check out today’s New York Times article on MomsRising screenings of the Motherhood Manifesto film. Now, I don’t know how working moms have time to throw a party (I commend you!), but I do know that MomsRising.org is doing great things to promote flexible working arrangements among other causes. Read along and join!
- Celebrity working mom quotable: Gwenyth Paltrow to People
“When I had kids, I just wanted to be with them…” [But doing a movie a year] “makes you more interesting as a person and a wife and a mother.” Â Â
Gwenyie, way to set a precedent! Hey boss, I think I just want to do one project this year. Great, thanks, glad we’re all on the same page.
Tags: Gwenyth Paltrow, working mom, American Idol, LaKisha Jones, MBTI, Myers Briggs, linklove
According to an article in Sunday’s New York Times, “flirting at work is flirting with trouble.” That may be true, I guess (although I beg you to find one person who hasn’t dated somebody they work with or at least wanted to date at some point in their career.) But the article’s topic made me think long and hard about yet another hurdle a new mother has to overcome after she’s had her baby: flirting. Like trying to get your body back (ha!), preventing your hair from falling out (double ha!), and figuring out how to take care of a baby (no comment), a girl’s gotta learn how to flirt again after she becomes a mother.  I mean, the only man in my life that I’ve flirted with in the past 10 months is my husband son.  Flirting is a necessary evil that we all have to remember how to do once we’ve given birth. You’ve been out of practice for 9 10 long months, and well, when you’re waddling around with a beach ball in your stomach, you’re 
not exactly prime to give bedroom eyes. Case in point: one of my preggo friends has an obsession with Wenthworth Miller. I hate to break it to her, but this is NOT realistic flirting material (even if he is beyond gorgeous, and smart, and a good actor, oh, Wentworth.)
Personally, I don’t think it matters where you figure out how to flirt again. (No matter how “irksome” it might be in the workplace. (As long of course, that the flirting at work is not inappropriate. But you’re a mom, you wouldn’t be inappropriate, right?) Since I’ve had my son, I’ve tried to flirt again at a bar, the grocery store, the airplane (that was more like hard-core staring), the line at the cell phone shop, Starbucks. You name the place, I’ve probably flirted there. I guess practice makes perfect, right?
Who’s with me on this one!? C’mon all you silent readers… I know you’re out there, flirting away…
Tags: New York Times, flirting, new mother, new mommy, pregnancy
I learned today that Cookie magazine hired The Sartorialist to document fashionable toddlers. The Sartorialist, as I’ve found out, is a popular fashion blogger from New York who ”documents every day adult style-setters from New York to Milan.”  His page for Cookie, The Sartorialist Jr., will capture “junior style innovators” so we can see how the hippest kids dress. This sounds like good timing to me. You see, as part of my new getting ready in the morning routine for work, I let my son indulge in a few minutes (or more) of TV watching. Kill me, I need to shower. Our show of choice is usually Barney & Friends. What can I say? My son has gone the way of the purple dinosaur from hell. But the content of the show seems educational, the songs are cute enough and the kids have talent.  It’s all midly tolerable except for one thing: the fashion. It’s like watching a kiddie version of Glamour Do’s and Don’ts list.Â
Somewhere between “I love you, you love me,” I think the children’s stylists went color blind. Or maybe it’s that their hair shears went the way of Britney (crazy.) I don’t know. But what I’m pretty sure of is that The Sartorialist doesn’t visit these parts. And as a mildy-fashionable mom trying to find fashion icons for my son in the wee hours of the morning, this task is looking daunting. Maybe it’s my fault that I let him watch Barney, but I see that smile and I can’t resist. So I’m left with a few questions. Why is there such a disconnect between Barney and Cookie? How is it that this venerable 
show can be THAT removed from fashion reality? Television stylists of the world: aren’t there entry-level stylist jobs available on Barney? (I’m not saying we need Rachel Zoe.) Are the perks not good enough?  C’mon, even Bert can make neon look cool (although he could really use an eyebrow wax.)
“Grandma, thanks for resizing your mumu for me.”
I’m not saying that these kids should look like Bratz dolls. But they also shouldn’t look like they are channeling The Brady Bunch (When I showed these photos to my husband he assumed they were from 1992. Oh, how wrong he was. 2005 to be exact.) Maybe the kids picked out their own clothes, which is fine, but then I think we need a disclaimer saying so.
“But mom, you said leggings were in.”
If you’ve read this far, you probably think (a) I have more money than Gwenyth to dress my child, (b) I’m incredibly shallow, or (c) I need a hobby. While (b) is true at times (I like to shop, what can I say), I don’t have time for (c), sorry.  But I am definitely not Gwenyth. I am just a mom who wants to understand why stylists still think it’s ok to cut a boy’s hair like a female figure skater from the 1970s.Â
“Junior, meet Dorothy Hamill, hair icon.”
I don’t think kiddie fashion needs to be expensive (I typically get my son’s gear at Target, Old Navy on sale or local boutiques when they have their clearances), but shouldn’t it be current? Is it too much to ask that a child’s pants don’t look like 1960s wallpaper threw up on them?
“I don’t know why somebody made me wear this.”
My point is, I guess, if I have to watch this stuff because my son likes it, I’d like to get at least a few fashion tips in the process. The good news is that I can always just close my eyes and listen to the music. But that’s so not as educational.
Tags: Barney & Friends, The Sartorialist, Cookie magazine, The Sartorialist Jr., kid fashion, Dorothy Hamill
