Balance

I’ve been thinking a lot about “Balance” lately. It came to mind after I challenged my 5 year old to a game of Twister last night (which by the way, how is that I can stand forever just fine, but can’t manage to keep one foot on green and one foot on red for more than 10 seconds without the burning pain that comes with being an out of shape 33 year old sets in?).

But needless to say that somewhere between my 4^th and 5^th losses to my dancer daughter who flawlessly managed to keep her balance, it struck me that balance although a seemingly easy concept, is anything but easy.

But whether it's easy or not, it’s something we all have to deal with. Hence the reason that till the end of time all working mothers will talk about it, complain about it, question it. I mean, I probably have written more blogs about work-life balance than any other topic on this blog.

Learning to balance is a long, lonely journey. It’s impossible to learn the art from someone else. I can tell you how I manage to work my job and handle my three young children often by myself (three words: Fruit Snacks, cars, and an IPad). But, everyone has it different.

I can remember being a young lawyer and getting tons of tips on how to be working attorney: Dictate when you are driving, read briefs at your kids activities, get a Nanny to help you cart around the kids. But the problem was that these tips on balance may have balanced the giver of the advice’s life, but they were things that didn’t work in my life.

So over the years I have learned, as I was shown ever so painfully last night that while one person may be able to manage a right hand red, left hand blue, another may fall flat on her butt (repeatedly). It’s like the child sitting at the kitchen table leaning back way in his chair balanced on two legs. You may tell him repeatedly the “Four on floor” warning telling him that he will fall, but he just smiles at you knowing he can balance just fine.

So I stopped asking for advice, cancelled subscriptions to working mother publications, and decided that no one is going to teach me how to be a working Mom, it’s just something I have to do on my own.

I think my problem with balance is understanding the concept that it is a constantly changing process. You get yourself in a perfect groove, everything is going great, and then comes a week on your calendar where you have 7 briefs, 3 child activity commitments, and you get the flu. So I think it’s not about truly learning how to keep balance, its trying to master the art form of being able to constantly adapt to balance no matter what is thrown at you.

Last week was a particularly hard week in my house as I was in trial. My kids (and myself) are used to me being the one to be there when they are home, cook them dinner, play with them, bathe them, and kiss them good-night. But last week I couldn’t do that. I spent my nights up till 1:00 a.m. working, I missed dinner with the family, good night kisses, and had to send my understudy (Todd) to sing my classic lullabyes. I felt completely guilty the whole week, almost as if I was on trial. My poor mother had to listen to me “defend” myself all week, “But Mom, I’m always there, this is just one week I can’t be”, etc. Even though no one was making me feel bad about my busy schedule, I was my hardest critic. It was just one of those weeks (that luckily are few and far between) that the balance in my life was completely off.

But my week reminded me just how important family time is to my balance. I have been accused more times than I can count of being a “total Mom” (whatever that means). I proudly admit that my kids are my life…without the three of them, I have no outside life. I hear friends of mine talking about their book or wine clubs, that they religiously attend to get some social time away from their kids. They always think I’m joking when I say the only book club I attend discusses such riveting issues as why is Sam I Am so insistent that his friend eat Green Eggs and Ham. Wine clubs? Nope, just whine clubs exist in my house. It just so happens that the strongest “legs on my chair” so to speak are my kids and so I balance heavily upon that part of my life.

There are times in my life I feel like I have a perfect balance and can navigate my worlds just fine. Other times, like last week, I feel like I am grasping for a rope to hold onto. I guess I still have a lot to learn about adapting to the challenges of being a working Mom.

I think the goal to work-life balance is just to find the right amount of balance where you are comfortable and not a second away from crashing down. My advice on finding balance, find the balance that works in your world and be proud of it. And don’t expect that balance to stay the same forever, for as different challenges are presented, we have to modify how we balance our lives. Will we ever find the perfect balance? Yeah I think that is about as unlikely as me ever beating my daughter at Twister.  

Mandi

Line Jumping Lives - Part Two

A couple of weeks ago I introduced you to my “line jumping lives”. If you missed that post, I like every working Mom am trying to find balance between my two lives of attorney v. Mommy. Although I try to keep my lives separate, parallel, and peaceful…often my lives do not want to cooperate. My personal life and professional life often find it very hard to co-exist peacefully leading them to infringe upon each other all the time, “line jumping” sort to speak.

When I last wrote about this topic, it was my professional life trying to butt in on my personal life. Well, apparently my personal life has been harboring a vendetta….

This week I have a federal two day trial. My partner asked me a few weeks back to 2^nd chair a trial with her. I love litigation so any chance I get to be a part of it is like Christmas morning for my professional life. So, yes I was thrilled and excited about the prospect of this trial. If I have to work (which thanks to my husband’s recent loss of the Mega Millions jackpot, looks like something I will be doing for many years to come) then I want to litigate. And now my professional life was giving this opportunity.

So, my professional life was at its happiest, busy sure, but excited. And that’s when it was blind-sided as my personal life decided to butt in and try to rain on its parade. Oh no "butt in" is a little too kind, my personal life lodged a multi-faceted attack upon my professional life.

It started with the infamous note from backpack. I have come to find out that the backpack of a child very rarely holds good news. It either holds a note asking for money, or telling you at midnight that your child needs to wear red polka dot socks the next day. So I have learned my lesson to open it each night, preferrably before Target closes. As my daughter and I emptied her Hello Kitty backpack I saw the usuals: old homework, Market day brochures, pictures from art class, a library book. But then from the bottom J pulled out something she was very excited to show me. She pulled out a note…not just a note the hand drawn, colored with crayon kind of note. The kind of note you know is important…

I opened up the note. In my daughter’s precious Kindergarten-Crayola blue handwriting I read

“You are invited to my concert April 3^rd at 1:00 p.m.”

Ka-Boom, first attack. April 3^rd is the first day of my trial. The attack was major as this was not an invitation this was a handwritten invitation. Even though on the outside I was smiling ear to ear for my daughter’s sake a ton of emotions were festering. At first I got mad, really mad. I mean was there seriously no voices of reason in the “Let’s set a memory-saving scrapbook moment, pull out the video tape, adorable concert, during the work day, and give parents less than a week’s notice” meeting. Next came guilt as my daughter followed her invite with “You are going to love it Mommy, I’m singing about lunch!”. Then I felt defensive. Should I try and explain to my daughter that 99% of the time I am at school functions when most Moms aren’t there?? Nah, I doubt kindergartners are swayed by percentages.

I had to think fast, especially when faced with the big hazel eyes of a daughter who very rarely has to deal with her Mommy not being in the crowd. So I pulled out my big weapon…my best weapon, the big gun. “Hey, you know who can come….NANA. Nana is on spring break so I bet she can come!” I knew once I said Nana, I could slip in a “I can’t come J” and she wouldn’t even hear it. Mom is great, but Nana, Nana is AWESOME. Picture if you will, a crowd of parrotheads at a small county fair expecting a cover band but suddenly are surprised with Jimmy Buffet himself. That is Nana. Nana is idolized by my kids, so I knew if Nana was there, J would never even remember if I wasn’t there. Sure enough it worked, J smiled from ear to ear. Crisis averted.

Or was it? As I turned away, I heard J “Here Mommy, there’s this too”. J pulled yet another pink paper from her backpack. Could it be???? No, not after the last attack.

Yep, sneak attack.

Well played, personal life. I certainly didn’t see that coming.

“Eat with your child week”. Yes, the week where you can bring in McDonalds and surprise your kids by eating lunch with them. I never miss this week as the thought of my daughter watching her classmates chomp on fries while she eats corn dog nuggets on a lunch tray is too much for me to handle.

Okay, don’t panic Mandi. It says it’s the WHOLE week…there is no way it will be on a day I can’t go.

But there it was, in bold Times New Roman, “Kindergarten: Monday”. Of course it's on Monday…the day of the rescheduled-one-to-many-times deposition that I can’t cancel. I had already used my top Nana weapon, so what on earth do I do now? But then a beacon of hope as I noticed the small print of “Make up day: Friday” on my calendar. Friday I can do. I explained to my daughter that I would come on FRIDAY, the best day of the week! She smiled. Whew…dodged another bullet.

Two attacks in one day, I’m sure even the most seasoned war soldier would have a hard time dealing with that.  

But it seems like my personal life wanted to hit me while I was down as the next day brought yet more bad news. This time it was delivered by messenger as my husband light-heardly said on the phone one afternoon while I was typing a motion at my desk “Oh by the way, the boys Easter Egg Hunt is next week”. Sure personal life, it’s not enough to use my daughter against me, you are going to throw in a toddler’s easter egg hunt. Ok I know you aren’t supposed to shoot the messenger, but I think when it’s your husband there is a an exception so I let out my frustration with a loud “REALLY? Let me guess, it’s Monday, Tuesday, or Wednesday?? Right!!?? RIGHT???????”.

I think Todd was afraid to answer, as he said “No, it’s Thursday” with a “please don’t bite off my head” type of tone. Okay, so this wasn’t an attack, just sort of a “don’t make me do it” reminder from my personal life that my working life was getting a little hectic and it could attack at any time so I better watch it.

I survived the attacks with some guilt and wiggling around of my schedule. I know I’m lucky, as I am blessed with a job that allows these type of attack weeks to be few and far between. I am grateful that to date I have yet to miss any big event, a job that allows me to be one of the only Moms climbing the bus on a field trip. I know I could have a job where that is not possible. But still, I can’t help but complain. It’s a war that working Moms face all the time, but there is no other way to say it other than just saying it…IT SUCKS.  

So here’s to hoping that all of you reading this are not engulfed in your own line jumping battle and having one of those weeks of peaceful co-existence! And if you’re not, hang in there, and perhaps wear a helmet…the attacks are swift and often painful!

Mandi

Painful Goodbyes

I’ve always been a working Mom. Since the time J was 9 weeks old, I started working. Therefore, I’m no stranger to the repeated heartbreak us working Moms have to endure every day when we say goodbye to our kids and head off to work.

I’ve always had trouble with goodbyes. From the time I was a kid I cried pretty much every time I had to say goodbye to anyone. Movies with painful goodbyes? I was a wreck before the emotional instrumental interlude that plays as a car headed down the dusty dirt road even started. I was the kid that got homesick on sleepovers. I even hated college because I was away from my family.

But I was not prepared for what a true heartbreaking goodbye felt like until I had kids. To this day, I have delegated drop offs to my husband. I can’t stand being the one that has to take them to daycare and hear the cry. I’ll be the first one there to pick up and see that smile and running feet, but drop off…no way. Yes, I use my "I carried them for 9 months and had three c-sections, what did you do???" card with this chore.

Now I have to admit, I really don’t have any trouble leaving J and H anymore. I mean, technically now that J is in school, she “leaves” me in the morning. She heads off to Kindergarten bright and early and enjoys school so much, I don’t have a twinge of guilt about working. H is in pre-school and so we still have to drop him off, and yes there is the occasional “Do you have to work today?” moan from him on a Monday morning. But overall, he’s 4 so he gets it. He understands by now that Mom has to go to work, but then she’ll be back and in his mind Mommy works so the transformers and monster trucks can be in abundance. In other words, he'll bear some time without me for Bumblebee or Grave Digger.

But, then there is L. My baby. Not only my baby, but my baby baby, my youngest and last child. He by far and away has put me through the most heart wrenching goodbyes.

It seems L and I have had the world trying to keep us apart literally since his birth. When he was born, he swallowed a lot of fluid during my c-section and so instead of getting to hold him right away off he went to Neonatal ICU. He was kept from me for about 3 hours, well actually after about an hour I threw such a fit with the nurses in my recovery room that they made an exception and wheeled me down to visit him briefly. His was my only c-section that I didn't recover quickly and so I had to have a lot of help in the first couple of months. L was the easiest baby known to man and so when he was a baby, my husband opted to “take care of him” when we would go somewhere, leaving me to chase after a then 2 and 3 year old J and H.

L is now almost 2 years old and he is a notorious Mama’s Boy. It didn’t start this way, as he was started as Daddy’s little guy. But suddenly around 18 months old, he became glued at my hip. Now everywhere we go he’s right by my side.

And this has lead to L winning the prize of being the hardest person I have ever had to say goodbye to. I have to say of my three kids he wins the prize for breaking my heart the most at goodbyes.

When J was little she would cry when I would leave. She would even try and follow me to the door. But, once Todd lifted her up she stopped crying. H was a little harder in that when he was toddler and I would leave in the morning he would always say “Wait Mommy” and run and try to grab his shoes. But all I would have to do is pick him up and sing him our song (I stole from Wonder Pets) of "Wherever you are, whatever you do, I'll always always come back for you"...and instantly he was calmed down.

L? Well, I'm not getting off even remotely that easy. Every time I have to leave him he comes up to me with his huge brown eyes and says “Momma, I’ll come with you”. He repeats this over and over while he follows me around. Sometimes in a statement, and sometimes in a question begging me to let him come.

I don’t know if it’s the sound of his voice, or the fact that this is the first sentence my quiet son has spoken, but each time he says this it breaks my heart a little more. It’s like a small crack in the wall of an aquarium each time he says it another crack, another one, another one…and I feel with every line it’s going to shatter and the water (or in my case tears) will come out.

I know someday he'll understand. I know he'll learn like J and H that Mommy honestly does not want to go and will be back before you know it. But until then I just have to endure the line, or in reality try and sneak out the door as fast as I can.

Mandi

The Car Ride

A dark night. A quiet road….the perfect recipe for something to go wrong.

There I was with my family driving home from a night at my parents house. It was  a great night. Todd and I were able to get away for a date night and had a wonderful dinner together. The kids had a blast (as usual) playing with my parents.

So around 8:30 p.m. we packed up everyone in my new van. Last month Todd and I bought a new Honda Odyssey and as all my friends and family know…I’m in love with this van. It’s the first car I have ever bought that is completely loaded. You never know its possible to love a car until you can leave your iPhone in your purse and it magically will play without being plugged in. The love for a new van begins about the time your butt is first warmed by the heated seat....

But I digress. So there we were loading up the van. I put J and H in the way back and buckled them in. I gave them their pillows and blankets as I knew they would certainly pass out from all the fun they had at their Nana and Opa’s house. And as my luck would have it my kids were picky about what blanket they wanted: “I want the Iowa one, that’s my blanket…etc. etc. etc.” So I threw in about every blanket in my van, put on Toy Story on the DVD player. Made sure L was ready to go and off we went.

Now I usually love car rides home at night with my family. My kids usually pass out by the time we pass the Dairy Queen in my small town, and so Todd and I usually just talk or listen to some music. It’s a quiet opportunity to relax, hang out with my husband, and just veg out for the hour long drive.

We got on the interstate. It was pitch black, quiet, calm. I put on my favorite Adele album and Todd and I just talked about random things.

Suddenly a small voice from the back…muffled and quiet came from H.

“What?” I said. It was repeated but I still couldn't hear him. I turned down my stereo and said “WHAT?” again. Still couldn't hear him, so I thought...well I guess it is not that important.

But oh was it important as my little H was warning me about what was to come. About 2.2 seconds later my princess Diva of a daughter was screaming…”EEEWW He’s throwing up…Mommy he’s throwing up”.

It’s about that time, that reality kicked in and I learned the lesson that when a four year old little voice says something you can't hear, make sure you hear it! When my husband turned on the lights in the van, there was H throwing up all over my new van. Luckily we weren’t that far from the gas station and so we pulled over. We pulled in, J was seeking someone to acknowledge that she was wronged as she was thrown up on, Todd said he was starting to feel sick too. Only L and I stayed calm…he because Buzz Lightyear was entertaining him. Me, because well there was no one else.

It was one of those times where you just don’t know where to begin to clean up the mess. Thankfully due to the Blanketgate battle between my kids I had about 5 blankets in the back so the blankets took the brunt force. But still, H had thrown up a lot and it was all over.

About ½ hour later, three trips in and out of the gas station, 2 eye rolls toward my husband when he said they didn’t have cleaners or garbage bags in there, and one “I saved my brother” speech from J after she realized that she alone alerted me to the mess, I had him and the van somewhat cleaned up.

As I held another Walmart bag out for H to again throw up in, my husband walked away and said “I don’t know how you do that” feeling the twinges of his own stomach flu about to hit.

I love when people say that…”I don’t know how you do it”…I mean come on, what were my options? I’m his mother. It’s my job to get puked on apparently. And come on...does the person who's holding the barf bag every really have a choice???

When H finally had a little more color to his cheeks, I walked him into the gas station bathroom to clean up (again). He started to cry. ‘Mommy I ruined your new van”. I can imagine why his tears were so strong. I mean after all, I was still somewhat in the honeymoon phase of my van…you know the phase where you tell everyone they can’t eat or drink in your car, wear their dirty shoes, or climb on the seats. So I bet to my little 4 year old, he thought he committed a cardinal sin that would land him in time out forever.

He was relieved when I just smiled at him and gave him a huge hug. I grabbed his shoulders and said “Hey, no big deal H. I mean you throw up in every one of my cars, so hey at least we got that over with now right?”

Yep, that’s the job of a Mom. We get thrown up on, watch our new car get slimed, and yet, the anger we think we would feel in a situation, we don’t have. All I felt in that situation was helplessness that I still had to get my little boy home and we had 45 minutes to go.

I climbed in the back seat with H, for two reasons: (1) I wanted to comfort him and catch anything else and (2) because I knew J would surely need a therapist if she was forced to get thrown up on again. In the back, I sang to H, rubbed his head, adjusted the large garbage bag we managed to find and drape over H like a bib. I popped Altoids consistently in my mouth to try and drown out the smell.

And you know what? Still in all of that there was no place I’d rather be. We got home just fine. Cleaned up the mess on the kitchen floor that happened after H got sick yet again, tucked him in, and as I hugged him I heard him say his little “I love you Momma”.

There it is. "I love you Momma". If my husband wasn't in the bathroom dealing with his own stomach flu I would have told him those four words right there are the reason why Moms can do what we do. We'll get thrown up on, we'll be tired beyond belief, we'll put up with crabby toddlers...all usually without notice or appreciation. But we do it because of those four words. Plain and simple. 

And yes, I tried to remember this as I spent my Sunday scrubbing up the remains of the joyous car ride with the car wash spot cleaner! 

Mandi  

Saleswoman

Well, you may have been wondering where I was last week. Exciting cruise? Exotic vacation?

Nope.

The reason for my blog absence was simple and not nearly as exciting. For the last few weeks I seem to have been taking on yet another job to add to my resume. Mother, Wife, Taxi Driver, Cleaner, Chef, Nurse, Attorney, and (drumroll please)….Saleswoman.

And boy has my Saleswoman life has been in overdrive.

Have you ever noticed that once you become a mother to a pre-school or school aged child you are instantly made a salesperson? I don't have a degree in sales, never been any good at it, yet as a Mom I am forced to be an expert at it. Now don’t get me wrong, I have fond memories of being so excited to earn a heart shaped cassette player or set of fruit flavor smelling erasers after going door to door to sell wrapping paper or summer sausage to my neighbors…but why does it seem like now a days it is so much worse? One fundraiser a year is a lot different than 1 a month.

Now, before you all jump down my throat, I do understand that fundraising is important. But I have to sometimes wonder if it wouldn’t be easier to just send a letter home to parents: "Dear Mom and Dad of student, we want to update our school and hey, we don't have the money. So please send a check for $X of dollars so we can keep up with those fancy schools you see on TV. Sincerly, Your School". Trust me after the fundraising stint I have had lately, I would happily rip that check out of the check book and would even add on $20 for not having to look like an idiot walking around selling bread dough. So just ask me for money....I promise I'll give it to you!

From the moment J started school it literally feels like almost every month there is a new fundraiser in her backpack. Pizzas, cookie dough, you name it, they want J to sell it. And because J is only in kindergarten this means that I have to sell it. Not J.

We just finished a stint of the biggest fundraiser we’ve had to date….girl scout cookies. I swear God is paying me back in kind for every hurried trip I had to Wal-Mart and breezed past those little girl scouts standing there selling cookies. J’s troop leader encouraged the girls to hit a goal and thankfully for me J wanted this little stuffed animal thing and only had a goal to sell 150 boxes. Okay, 150 boxes, we can do that right? Actually what I honestly thought was “Okay get my calculator, how much would I have to write a check for if I couldn’t sell them”. So we started selling girl scout cookies. At first it was easy, as Todd works nights at a factory and so those guys were eating them up (literally). But after 75 boxes we hit a stall. Fundraiser Mandi stepped in and my Facebook, emails, and office were filled with “Buy J’s Cookies” speeches and posts. Finally, we sold the last box of Thin Mints and we were done.

Now I’ll be honest, I don’t really mind cookies or stuff like that, but the absolute worse fundraiser out there, the one that makes me cringe every time I unzip the backpack and see it in there is... MAGAZINES. Seriously, who was the person who invented making kids sell magazines? I mean I can't talk my co-worker into buying a box of Caramel Delites, but you think I can convince them to have a year subscription of Better Homes and Gardens for $49.99?  Cookies, bread dough, pizza...zero commitment, but magazines that's a commitment. 

 No joke, J has had 3 magazine fundraisers this year. 3! The only one we did was the girl scout one because I was terrified if I didn’t do it that J would be the only little Daisy up there without a patch. So I emailed my family, begging them to please get a magazine from J. Sure enough we sold them, as I think my family could sense the desperation in my typing. But oh it wasn’t that easy, as now my brother texts me at least once a month telling me that some random Bass Fishing magazine or something he didn’t ordered has filled his mailbox. So now in addition to the sales department I am head of the complaint department as well. Oh how I hate the magazines.

The bad thing all this fundraising has done is that it has just made me mad about them, and so I’ll admit that 3 out of 4 times I don’t even do them. But then I realized that’s not good because every now and then there is a good one I want to help. For example, just as I boycotted all fundraisers I realized almost at the last minute that J was doing Jump Rope for Heart…and that’s a good one. So, I grabbed my check book and instantly wrote out a check. I felt bad I almost missed a good one just because I was so burned out on sales.

The sad thing is that I have 1 child in school now. H is right on her heels and L is a few years away. I can’t even imagine what it will be like when all three are in school. I’m literally going to have to create a facebook page of “I have something to sell, so please buy it”.

So next time you see a fundraiser in your break room at work, or you see a little girl scout at Wal-Mart…do me a favor, buy from them. Not just for the cute little boys and girls selling you stuff you don’t need…but simply for the Mom, as behind each cute face is a stressed out Mom that desperately needs you to buy their stuff so she can stop selling and get on with her life!

Mandi

Line Jumping Lives

I’m having one of those months…

The months that come around for all working Moms, months we feel like we are losing the grip on the thousands of juggling balls in the air. The months where we feel completely overwhelmed.

Yes, I'm having that kind of month.

The months where you are so busy that you can’t even count anymore how many times you have had to eat girl scout cookies from your desk for breakfast (Sidenote: Lemonades are my favorite “breakfast” cookie). The months where you wake up in the middle of the night certain you missed something, but you can’t think of what it is and then it keeps you up wondering if it was something important.

For me, these months happen when my two worlds, work and personal, collide. We’ve all seen those moms that can keep their two worlds completely apart, their work life and personal life walk side by side without touching or converging. Well, my lives are not like that. My two lives push and shove and line jump all the time. They simply cannot co-exist side by side peacefully for very long.

It never fails in my life...the busiest weeks at work always seem to be the weeks when my husband has to work overtime and so I’m here in my office kids in tow working on jury instructions. The activity that my kids beg to do always seem to fall on an off time. For example, tonight we start t-ball which they scheduled at 5:00. I hate the person who invented start times at 5:00 p.m. Even if you leave work early (which you must to catch this activity), you don’t have time to feed the kids and therefore you are juggling hungry kids, in your suit, and trying to watch the one actually participating in the activity!

Lately, my personal life has been trying to butt in a little too much on my work life. Last week was one of those weeks where my personal life completely line jumped and began to try and shove my work life out of the way.

Monday, I left work ½ a day early to attend a family wake in Chicago. Tuesday, I left work ½ a day early because of the kids valentine’s parties, Wednesday I actually kept the personal life in check long enough to get a well needed day at my desk. But Thursday, my personal life was back to strike again with a doctor’s appointment for L. Friday, I performed two jobs…half attorney and half girl scout cookie saleswoman!

Then my weekend came and it was just worse. Between basketball, little league sign up, cookie booth sales, gymnastics, kids night out, grocery shopping, church, cleaning the house, laundry…I honestly was more exhausted after the weekend than all week.

My “line jumping” lives go in waves…sometimes they are civil and can work together fine. Other times, well not so much. But I can’t help but be afraid that things are only going to get worse. I used to think that my work life would get more “time in the spotlight” once the kids weren’t babies anymore. Wrong! Once they are kids that just means they are involved in more activities. Before I just had to cart J around town to different activities…now she’s headed to Acro ½ hour before H has to be down town at t-ball.

So my job is simple…I’m basically a line referee in my own life. I'm involved in the never ending quest to keep my work life and personal life separate and co-existing peacefully so that I don’t turn gray by age 34 (which by the way I'm having my hair colored next week just in case I'm already there)! Wish me luck!

Mandi

Lessons

I’m a person who lives for advice. This is probably because I am smart enough to admit I don't know a hell of a lot. I’m the youngest child in my family so I have always gotten to watch others go first. I think this has shaped my persona as I always watch and learn from others.

But I learned this past month that the best lessons in life come from unexpected sources. I am finding out that you don't have to literally be able to look up to someone, to look up to them. In fact, the three biggest role models, mentors, truth-tellers in my life are very small in comparison to their wisdom...

Here's a few lessons I have learned this past month from my favorite professors in life: my children J, H, and L.

Lesson #1: NEVER Give Up

Lesson #1 comes from my oldest, J. Now so far in her life, J has had things relatively easy. Not to sound like a “bumper sticker (my kid is the best)” Mom, but normally things come pretty easy to J. However, this easy lifestyle and her Diva personality created a bad habit when she was 4. She refused to try when she was faced with something she couldn't do.   A sort of …okay I’m not the best at that so it must not be worth doing diva-ish attitude.

But this attitude did not last long at all, for when J turned 5 she completely changed. Suddenly she refused to give up. When she was faced with something she couldn’t do but others around her could, she became insistent and passionate about beating that challenge. Now some challenges were easy for J to overcome, such as bike riding, swimming, and cartwheels. A bit of practice and she was on target. But then there was the…(cue dark music here) MONKEY BARS. The monkey bars was something J could NEVER do. Every trip to the park J would try (with me holding tight on to her legs) but always failed. School was like salt to the wound  as her school's playground has enough monkey bars to keep a large zoo of monkeys busy for hours.  But no matter how hard she tried, or how often she tried, she couldn’t do it. So yesterday we took advantage of this odd February weather and headed for an afternoon at the park. As we played I noticed J sitting with her brother watching a young girl do the monkey bars. The girl reminded J of this challenge she had shelved for the winter. I watched her head over to the bars, a determined look on her face. She tried time and time again but kept falling.  On what seemed like the 1 millionth time suddenly her inner monkey let loose. She did it! I probably looked like a fool in the park as I screamed louder than a Mom whose kid won Olympic gold. But I was so proud of her that she conquered this...her hardest challenge.

 I get overwhelmed in my life, I am pulled 1000 different directions and I sometimes wonder if I can do it. Many challenges in my life are like those damn Monkey bars…and no matter how bad I want to conquer them or how hard I try, it seems like I can never get there. But J reminded me to just keep trying…I’ll get it, as long as I never give up.

Lesson #2 It’s Okay to be a Little Fish in a Big Pond

My second lesson this month came from H. Now H has a November birthday and so he is usually the oldest in all activities he does. When he finally could play three year old summer soccer, he was nearly 4. This of course means that usually he is the big fish, older than the crowd.

But that changed this winter. H is in preschool and so when the Y put out their winter sports schedule, I saw the preschool basketball offering and thought H would love it. So when we walked into basketball on the first day I was slammed with a reality check…I had forgotten that H has two years of preschool and so all the kids on H’s team were obviously on their 2nd year. To use a basketball analogy he was the Spud Webb on a team of Shaqs.

When practice started, all of these 5 year olds were able to shoot the basketball with ease. But Mr. 4 year old H, could not come close. I remember watching him that first day thinking that he looked like a toddler compared to the boys. I silently cursed myself thinking “Great, he’s the only one that can’t make a basket, so now he’ll hate it and give up on it”. But not my H. Over the weekends I have watched my little fish swim proudly right along the big fish. He doesn't seem to care, or even notice, his little fish position.

I must admit I feel like H a lot, as most of the time when I head into court I am the small fish in the sea. It always seems like I am up against more experienced attorneys. Attorneys who know more, bill more, are more seasoned. But H has taught me its okay for the little fish to swim with those big fish. I may have to work harder but I can still go fin to fin with the best of them.  

Lesson #3 – Go your own way….proudly.

And then there is the lesson I have learned the most from this month and shockingly it comes from the youngest member of my family.

At just 20 months old, L is teaching me volumes each day. I blogged about this before but a couple months ago L’s teachers came to me stating they were concerned because he wasn’t talking a lot. He wasn’t doing what the other kids were doing, and most importantly (to them) he wasn’t doing what his brother and sister did at that age. For months we had to hear “Oh he doesn’t like to color as much as H” or “He’s so quiet, J loved to talk”. Poor guy even gets “Wow, he looks nothing like his brother” comments from random strangers. It was like people thought something was wrong with L simply because he was different.

But alas, my baby has had the last laugh in that suddenly he has blossomed and surprised everyone in the process. L talks all the time now and has amazed his teachers. He has taught me that everyone is different and that’s not a bad thing. It’s okay to go your own way and make your own path. L went from hardly talking to doing his ABC’s and numbers all in about a span of one month. I sometimes secretly wish I could teach him to say “That’s right!” to people when I see him doing things that his siblings never were able to do at that age.

In legal world, I’m a lot like L. I don’t fit in with the typical attorney mold. I’m just not like a lot of attorneys I know. I sometimes get down on myself for this. But L’s lesson has taught me that it’s okay to fight comparisons. I can simply be me.

Wow if they are teaching me this much so far, who knows what the future holds! But I'm so grateful for every day and every lesson.

Mandi

Shopping with Mommy's Remorse

Yesterday I took my daughter to do one of her favorite activities…shopping. If you have followed my blogs you know from my prior posts that my daughter Miss J is not your average 5 year old. So, I actually enjoy shopping with her just as much as I would with my Mom or best friend. So we go often, and I love it.  

Now J is very particular when it comes to shopping. This budding fashion designer is very specific when she shops. She has been picking out her own clothes since age 3.  She not only knows what she wants, but she knows exactly how she wants it to fit. Her fashion brain already knows that Gap Jeans are true to her size, but she has to go one up in Old Navy, and maybe even 2 at Justice and just roll the cuffs for a season. I am there merely to confirm for her that her outfit is fabulous, take her for a pretzel,  and of course provide her the funds for her shopping adventure.

On this trip, J wanted to look for a few things: (1) a new dress, (2) a new dance bag, and of course (3) her “usuals”. When J shops, no matter what we are looking for  it’s a given that she’s always going to look at her favorite obsession, shoes, she will always stop and see if there are any new earrings to match her outfit, and she will always hit Justice (her favorite store) where she will do her usual “Mom just pick me out anything in here for me to try on…I’m going to look at the accessories” routine. See since Justice is J’s favorite store, she will wear absolutely anything in there, so its really one of the only chances I have to get a say in her wardrobe. Yes, the glittery press on nails, fuzzy diaries with large J’s on them, purses, and headbands are too much for the Diva to miss out on.

We started at Von Maur as this is usually J’s favorite place to look for her “step up” dresses. Since J’s preferred outfit of choice is a dress she categorizes them into her regular dresses (suitable for every occasion, including parks and riding bikes), and “step-up” dresses, the dresses that are a little nicer than the rest, and the ones Mommy will probably take a picture of. She will not call them “dressy” or “special occasion” dresses, because seriously every day for the Diva is a special occasion.

Now J is probably the most self-sufficient 5 year old shopper you will ever meet. Seriously, if DHS wouldn’t be knocking on my door, I could literally hand her my card, drop her off at the door and off she would go. She peruses the racks, finds her size, and heads to the dressing room all by herself. She then tries on her clothes, hangs them up and heads directly to the check out (of course first stopping to see the accessories). Of course, I’m quite helpful in this process as I am the perfect hanger for the clothes she wants. So, why J looked I happened to glance over to the ladies section. With one eye on my daughter…not to prevent kidnappers but to make sure she didn’t get overboard with her selections to try on, I started to look at the racks of clothes.

I have developed a horrible habit as a Mom. From the moment my kids were born, I really stopped all shopping for myself. It wasn’t long ago that I was like J, shopping every weekend, filling my closet with the newest clothes. And although I never quite shared her love of shoes (as I am tall and so heels are out for me), I loved shopping for purses that were way too expensive but I had to have them anyway. Now? Well let’s just put it this way…my daughter walks around with a Coach bag (compliments of her fabulous Aunt Jean) and I walk around with a bag I nabbed at TJ Maxx on clearance.

No one is to blame for this but me. No one tells me not to shop for myself. In fact, most of my friends and family, including my husband, strongly encourage it.  My Mom is the head of this team. She used to get me gift cards or money to go buy clothes with…now she goes out herself and picks out something for me, knowing that if she gives me money, I’ll use it for the kids.

The only shopping I do for myself involves things somehow related to the kids…I splurge on scrapbooking stuff, to make books FOR THE KIDS. I bought an iPad and have about a 1/3 of the apps for me on there. I buy a new camera…to take dozens of pictures of the kids. See the trend?

I’m not really sure why I do this. I’m not trying to be a martyr, but for some reason shopping for me has lost its fun after I had kids. When I buy something for me, I just hear sounds of “Oh, for this money I could have gotten H or L something, or J could have gotten a new coat”. And every time I do talk myself into taking a little shopping spree, I am usually full of buyers remorse for weeks.

But there as I watched my daughter fill her arms high with outfits galore without skipping a beat, I felt a twinge of a push behind me. “Go look at those clothes Mandi…do it!” So I took a step from the kids aisle over to my section.

This of course drew the immediate attention of J, who handed her stack to a clerk to put in a dressing room for her. I heard her announce in a rather…”Yes, don’t worry the Diva will return tone” to the clerk… “I’ll be right back” and heard the clunk of her boots running over to me.

“Momma are you shopping???” Her face lit up because J’s second favorite thing to do while shopping is to save her mother from her fashion blunders. J loves helping me shop. The only problem, what a 5 year old thinks a lawyer should wear would make heads turn for sure in the courthouse. So what I usually do is try on that bright pink shirt for size and to appease J, but grab the gray one when she’s not looking.

“Sure, we can look for me”. I smiled. And instantly, like a scene in a roadrunner cartoon she was off, this time checking the racks for me. I must admit that even though she tends to be a little fashion forward for my boring taste…she does pick a few great ones every now and then.

“Momma come here…find your size in this”, she yelled over. I went over to where she was and she was standing by some long cardigans. “Momma these are your favorite, you always wear these, get one”. I chuckled knowing my 5 year old even recognized my cardigan addiction and looked on the rack. J was right, the sweaters were my usual norm and I loved them. I picked out one I loved and tried it on over my shirt. “Looks good, buy it! Now lets go try on mine” J said as she started to pull my arm. I took the sweater off, thinking, yes I’ll think I’ll buy it. Guilt free…I need it. But then I caught the glimpse of the price tag. $132.00.

The air of my balloon instantly blew out. $132.00, are you kidding me? No way. Considering my clothes are usually spit up on, touched with greasy hands, or the occasional marker, there was no way I could justify paying that much. I put it down and walked over to J’s dressing room.

There was a time in my life where I would have grabbed that cardigan and promptly bought it. Sure I might have a twinge of guilt, but nothing that my best friend or Mom couldn’t kill with a “Oh you needed it Mandi” comment. But now, the Mom in me said no.

I went back to try on clothes with J and laughed as she shopped in the “no guilt because I’m not paying for it” mode. I smiled when I saw her doing the same tricks I used to do with my Mom… “Momma, which one of these skirts should I get?” (instead of can I get the skirt).  Nice try, J, but I invented that move back in 1988, so I know that one. But one by one, she tried on her clothes.

And the true irony of the story? By the end of the shopping trip that day I had easily spent the price of my sweater on J, but somehow I didn’t have an ounce of guilt.

Mandi

Our First Blog Challenge: Do's and Don'ts of Parenting

It goes without saying that kids do not come with instruction manuals. How come there are more sites giving you advice on how to apply eye makeup than how to parent?

Okay let me clarify this...I'm not talking about the so-called experts, because yes I know there are billions of pages of parenting advice from the experts. I'm talking about real life advice, not from the Ph.D but from a MOM. I’m sorry Dr. Soandso but if I followed your hardfast rule of no Binkies past 6 months old, I would not have slept from 2008-2010.

I think it's because none of us want to admit we are "experts" at parenting. No one brags on themselves because you know as soon as you think you are a great Mom, your son will start screaming in a crowded restaurant or you'll get that look at play group when your child is the only one that won't share. But the truth is if you are a Mom, you are an expert on how to be a Mom. Plain and simple.

So come on, we all pin about 1000 pins on our Pinterest showing perfect organizing closet tips or cake recipes, but we don't have a good guide of tips in our arsenal anywhere. Which leads me to a little challenge for us here this week.

I thought it was time to propose a little blog challenge here on JD Moms and try to start a Do’s and Don’ts list for parenting, the tips of a trade so to speak. So, I’m calling out my fellow JD Mom bloggers and readers to help me with this. Karen, Christine, and Jean, I hope you girls will add on to this list this week in your blogs. And I hope if you are reading this you will leave me at least 1 tip...come on its Monday, you don't want to be doing what you are doing now anyway!

Okay so I’ll start:

1. Don’t lie….umm often. Okay, so we all know it’s best not to lie to our kids, but I find it is entirely necessary when faced with such classic questions as: (1) Mom, are there veggies in this? (2) Mom, will my teeth really fall out if I don’t brush them? (3) Mom, will you really pull over if I don’t stop shoving my brother in the back seat?

2. Don’t get too excited when your son runs out of the bathroom to tell you “I aimed”. Take it from me, when a 4 year old boy tells you that he aimed, the next question out of your mouth should be… “In the toilet right?” This tip has been confirmed by me and my bathroom trash can.

3. Do take time to play hide and seek. Okay, so playing Barbie can get old after awhile, and I still have yet to master how to play Thomas the Train well with my boys, but trust me all adults rock at hide and seek. So, make sure when that option comes up at your house, you always join in. And here’s a bonus tip: always hide behind a door, it’s so simple yet they never look there.

4. Don’t take your kids grocery shopping if you can avoid it. I know its hard, but try not to run these errands with your kids. I am not a mathematician but I am pretty sure there is some formula that says for every kid you bring along for these errands you can add at least $22.42 to your bill.

5. Don’t pretend you’re leaving for a “meeting”. My first years as a working Mom, I always felt guilty when I left at 3:30 for a dance class, or 4:15 just to pick up my kid first from daycare for a change. I can remember leaving my firm and smiling quick… “I’m headed to a meeting”. Okay technically true, it’s a meeting at a dance studio. But over the years I decided that its always best to fly your Mom flag proudly. Now when I leave I just usually smile and say “Gotta go get my boys” or “Off to Dance Class”…and I feel so much better.

6. Don’t envy the SAHM crowd. Alright let’s solve this battle first and foremost. We are all Moms whether we stay at home or we work. We all have things that are better than the other, and yes, we ALL have it rough. When I first had J I found it very hard to be around people that were Stay at Home Moms, because well, I was SO jealous that they had the ability to do what I wanted to do most. Remember, the grass is not always greener on the other side, and I’ve learned over these years that my working is a good thing.

7. Do fill up your phone or tablet with a ton of kids stuff. Okay, take it from me, use the following formula for your phone or tablet:for every app, book, or magazine you get yourself, buy your kids at least 2-3. The iPad that I swore was for work has about 10 pages of stuff for my kids and about 2 for me. But trust me, I secretly say a “Thank you Steve Jobs” every time I’m stuck getting my oil changed or at the doctor’s office and I can turn on a video or play a game and instantly the “Are we done yet” is gone. Just face the fact people, that iPhone in your purse, stopped being “yours” before you even bought it.

8. Don’t teach your kids a new song…unless you know all the words. Yeah, that LMFAO song is awesome to listen to after a long day of work, but the look on your husband’s face when your 5 year old sings “I’m Sexy and I know it”…yeah not a face you want to get often.

9. Do skimp on baby wipes, Don’t skimp on diapers. This is one I have learned from my three kids that never gets old. I buy cheap store brand wipes all the time, but I will always opt for Pampers Cruisers, even if the other diapers are so much cheaper. Trust me with my three kids I have had about 1000 near blow outs saved because I spent the extra $1.19. Oh yeah and here’s another tip I learned from the medical people in my family…the cheap store brand Diaper Cream, yep that stuff is often stronger and works BETTER than the name brand.

10. Do get to know your kids daycare teachers, and not just their resumes. Daycare is hard on working Moms. But I have found the one thing that makes it easier for me is I have made it a point to really get to know the providers. And I’m not talking about simply checking their resumes or references, I mean really get to know them. My kids go to a large daycare center, but I have gotten to know the teachers a lot, befriended them on Facebook, found out about their personalities…and you know what, it makes it so much easier knowing that they are there.

11. Do buy girls a size up, but for boys stay on target. I’m not sure why this is true, but I have found that with girls it is always best to buy a size bigger (or two in some instances) than your daughter, but you can’t do that with boys. I have actually put this to test a year ago. I find it crazy that my daughter who is a size 6 in girls jeans can fit into her brother 4T jeans. So trust me, when buying clothes for a girl, buy up, but for a boy try to resist the urge or you’ll look like I did last summer…raising a hip hop up and comer, as L’s pants were always hanging down.

12. Don’t forget that some of the classic rules still apply. You know how you were always tired of hearing “Don’t run in the house” when you were a kid? Okay after a trip to the emergency room with my son after he went head first into our fireplace…trust me they were right. Yes, some classic rules never die.

13. Do spend money on a cell phone camera or app. A lot of Moms spend money on a good camera, but could care less about the camera on their phone. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been somewhere and a cute memory happened and I didn’t have my camera. And we all know cell phones are great, but their cameras usually are horrible. I have learned that it’s best to invest in a good cell phone camera, and if you have a good one, get the apps such as Instagram or Hipstamatic. They make your cell phone pics often better than your regular one. Trust me the best moments in life happen when your camera is not there.

Okay, so I started the discussion, let’s keep it going. Let’s make this a Do’s and Don’t list that will have Dr. Phil impressed! (Okay, maybe that’s a little bit too far, but you know what I mean!). Have a great week everyone!

Mandi

The worst kind of Monday....

Ahh…Monday. The day of the week all of us dread. The day everyone talks about. I mean think about it there are probably more songs about Monday than any other day of the week. (Although perhaps Katy Perry has changed that and pulled Friday in the lead, However, I'm from the Bangles "Manic Monday" generation, so I guess if it wasn't released on a cassette tape, then it doesn't count in my book). But I digress (no this will not be a blog about the how superior 80's music was I promise)....

Monday is the day everyone loves to complain about. I can't even count the number of Facebook postings that state the infamous “I have a case of the Mondays” quote. I have yet to meet one person who actually likes Monday, well except for that one person we all know who lives to be different and so specifically loves to publish that Monday is her favorite day just so everyone can look at her funny.

And so in true form, allow me to present yet another complaint about Mondays.

I have discovered Mondays have become particularly harder to deal with now that I am a working Mom. You think crawling out of bed on Monday is hard?? Try waking up a Diva 5 year old to get her ready for school! No matter how many times I do it, shedding my "Mommy robe" and replacing it with my "Attorney robe" is always hard.

Monday for me is really a day to get myself back in the swing of things again. It’s the day where I'm reminded that although I stayed home for 2 days, I am actually a working Mommy. It's actually made me appreciate the true feeling that Cinderella had when that damn clock struck 12 and her gown disappeared into shreds. It's the reality check, no one wants.  After two days of being able to accomplish to-do lists, its hard when I come back Monday and realize that the to-do list I thought was complete multiplied faster than a team of Gremlins dipped in a swimming pool (oh sorry another 80's reference, but please there is always room for a Gremlins reference).

Mondays are bad enough, but then every now and then you have a Monday like today. The type of Mondays I hate most of all…..the.....wait for it....(cue the Jaws music)....  The “national holiday, school is out, no one is working, well except you” Monday.  The worst type of Monday in the world of a working Mom.

These are the Mondays you loved as a kid, but hate as an adult when you realize that "National Holiday", is not code for "everyone is going to have the day off". It’s the Monday you hear about for weeks…whether its from the stay-at-home Moms at dance class “Oh what are you and the kids doing on your day off in a few weeks” or the department store ads reminding you that while you are headed to work you could be heading to their store for a quadruple coupon on bedding that brings the down comforter you’ve been dying for down to like $1.12. Sometimes I see those commercials and almost see in the fine print: “NOTICE: This super amazing once in a lifetime holiday deal applies to all U.S. Residents with the exception on Mandi as SHE has to WORK”.

So, yes here we are again on another holiday Monday. And in true form this one did not disappoint. I woke up this morning, my daughter running in to make sure she had the day right “Momma, it’s my day off right? Martin Luther King Day right??”. I rolled out of bed and started to get dressed. As I curled my hair my four year old sprinted into my room. He flung open the bathroom door and looked at me puzzled: “Momma, why you getting dressed? Day off today!” 2 minutes later my husband walked into the room and flung himself down on my bed… of course I knew with my husband what was coming next. “Oh, YOU ARE going to work?? I get to stay home tonight!” (Spoken of course in his classic "Na na na na, Boo Boo tone".  This of course was followed by a pillow being thrown at his head. Even my baby turned on me, as when I came down stairs L sat lazily in his jammies eating his Apple Jacks and watching TV. He gave a yawn and a smile and call me crazy but I swear I could hear Bruno Mars “Lazy Song” in the background.

But alas, I left my family and headed into work. As I sat down to start one of the two appeal briefs I have to get done this week, my husband called to tell me they were headed to Monkey Joes! Gee, rub some alcohol on the wound buddy!!

And oh it got better as I knew what email would be coming next...wait for it, wait for it, ah, here it came at 9:35 a.m. "Are you sure you don't want to call it day and meet us at Monkey Joe's".  Yes because in the world of the husband, appeal briefs, and medical records magically are completed just as fast as dishes and bathroom floors.  Oh husbands, you've got to love them....but perhaps just not as much on holiday Mondays. (Said of course in my joking, no wait am I really joking, tone that my husband absolutely loves!)

Ah well, working holidays are just another in a long line of “This is really cool, unless you are a working Mom” type of thing.  So, I’ll suck it up, stop invading your Monday with pointless 80's references, and stop complaining. But to all you fellow working Mommies who are sitting at your desks while your kids are enjoying a day off, just know I feel your pain. And bonus points for you who have endure cell phone pictures of your kids having a great day…I anticipate those will be hitting my inbox at around 10:32 a.m.

Mandi

Vacation

I’m Baaaaaack….

Yes, here I am...another year has begun. I hope everyone had an amazing holiday.

So where have I been??? Well I always think a picture is worth a 1000 words so here it goes....

Ahh...yes....VACATION.

It’s actually amazing to me how much the word “Vacation” has changed over my 3 decades. As a kid, vacation meant fun family trips, Disney, beaches…anywhere with a large store where you could get t-shirts or a snow globe. Of course vacations were awesome because you could buy every souvenir in the gift shop, ride every ride in the amusement park, and never even think about the fact this trip actually had to be paid for. Trust me a hot fudge sundae in a fancy hotel tastes much sweeter when someone else is footing the bill.

In my early 20’s vacations simply meant breaks from school. A law student has limited income and therefore I couldn't afford to go anywhere. But in all honesty, it didn't matter. Vacation for me was simply anytime I didn't have to crack open a book.

My late 20's brought the romantic getaways with my boyfriend, who became my fiancé, who became my husband. The time frame of, "sure this vacation is costing us a lot of money but hell, we're young, we're in love, so pop open another bottle wine and let Visa pick up the tab".

And then came the kids…and once again vacations have changed. Now I’m the one footing the bill for the floppy ear hat or the t-shirt from the gift shop that will only fit the day before its washed. I’m the tour director having to find a location to please a Diva 5 year old, an all-boy 4 year old, and an active toddler. I’m also the one that has to figure out how to best use every square inch of a Dodge Caravan so we can bring the 3 American Girl Dolls, the 5 stuffed animals, cooler full of Capri Suns and fruit cups, and oh yeah the stuff we actually need.

I actually break up my vacations at work into two separate vacations: a week in the summer where my family travels and a week after Christmas where I treat myself to a true luxury for me...a staycation. I know you must be thinking I'm crazy for staying home in Iowa in the middle of winter. But in all honesty just being able to be home, run errands with no time clock, sleep in, and get to cross out the "working" in front of "working Mom" for a week is worth more to me than the swankiest resort.

And so that’s what I did. I celebrated the last week of 2011 in the comfort of my home. And boy did I have a lot to celebrate. I made it through my first year of partnership, made it through watching my baby learn to walk, survived sending my first born to kindergarten, and simply made it through another year of the never ending struggle of work-life balance.

So I spent a week away from the headaches of work, with only a few short breaks in my day to keep my emails in check. I kept off social networking sites, hardly perused my standard gossip columns and just enjoyed living the role I am the most comfortable in, Mommy. Sure, we planned an overnight trip, attended a fun New Year’s party, went ice skating and bowling, but most often we were simply at home. And I’ll tell you it was just what the doctor ordered. Dorothy is right my friends, there really is no place like HOME. (And footnote: As you can see my staycation truly inspired even the decorating of my family room!)

I think as an attorney vacations are naturally more precious. In a job where billable hours govern, deadlines are king, and paperwork towers over you it’s very important to take time to get away. The work part of my life could consume me if I let it. I have enough work to be able to work 24 hours a day and still not be up to date on everything. My job is fast paced, high volume, and often high stress. And take that and mix in everything that goes along with raising three young children and...well you get the idea.

I had the best week, and honestly we didn’t do much. My favorite moments were our pajama lazy days just curled up on the couch together. My kids and I of course had a ton of toys to build and play with compliments of Santa and family. With sleeping in, no classes to run to, and no late night brief writing, everyone was in the perfect mood. My house was clean, we played for hours, and yes I am happy to report not one meal came from the crock pot.

My staycation always gives me a renewed perspective on life and allows me to really cherish my blessings. My favorite moment of Christmas break was very simple yet powerful. Recently, my children and I have started to attend church. For years I’ve been on this quest to find a perfect church for my family to grow in, but with the terrible two’s and antsy babies we did the standard “holiday churching" that my family did growing up. Sorry but even my strong faith could not get me into a busy church with a screaming baby (no crying room wall is sound proof enough for a colickly H). But now that 2 of my 3 are past the roller coaster toddler years I knew it was time for us to get back into this. So we started going to church weekly and the past month has been amazing. My kids and I have found a perfect home in our church. The children love Sunday school, they hug our Pastor on the way out of church as if they have known him for years, J belted out Away in the Manger in the Christmas program…everything has just fallen in place. So Christmas Eve I decided to head home from my parents’ house early and take the kids to their first candlelight Christmas service. With L being exhausted from the days events, J, H, and I walked into our church and got ready for the service. During the service the lights were turned out and we sang Silent Night by candlelight. There by candlelight I got a chance to really feel Christmas. It was beautiful. In that quiet moment I was able to just get back to what is truly important in life.

And that’s what this vacation was to me, a simple time to exhale and ready myself for the year ahead. Of course it was absolutely crazy coming back. I may take a vacation every now and then, but my work certainly never does…mail piles up, phone calls are missed, and so getting back into the swing of things after a rest is always hard. But alas that is a blog for another day.

So here we go 2012…I’m ready…I’m set…let’s go.

Mandi

Finding Christmas

Let the countdown begin…

The week before Christmas already, can you believe it?

This year I was particularly excited for Christmas. My kids are at an amazing age for Christmas, a truly magical age. Experiencing Christmas again through the eyes of a 5, 4, and a 18 month old is wonderful. So starting in late November I started to get really into the Christmas spirit, I played Christmas music while I decorated the house and started to plan out my “I vow to shop early this year (even though I say this every year and never do it) plan”.  

But then as always happens…reality hit. The sugar plum vision of Christmas started to fade. The fabulous family Christmas picture I love to hang on my wall is not so easy to take with a 18 month old, the “must have” gifts my children are begging for are also being requested by 1.9 million others making Mommy have to rush around town and wait in lines, the presents overflowing my basement all need to be wrapped. So last week, excitement moved out and drama moved in.

Here I sit Monday morning absolutely exhausted after a weekend of Christmas programs, gingerbread houses, wrapping presents, assembling presents for teachers, and trying to figure out how to tackle my to-do list. The Christmas season I couldn’t wait for came alright…and now its kicking my butt!

Yesterday I think I hit my Christmas breaking point….I was up at 6:30 a.m. and finished wrapping presents at around 1:30 a.m. Last night even though I was exhausted I could not sleep. I had 1000 thoughts going through my mind. I realized as I laid there next to my shockingly peacefully sleeping husband (isn’t there some rule that if the wife can’t sleep the husband shouldn’t?) that I was dangerously close to becoming the Grinch that stole my own Christmas. I was letting everything and everyone around me effect my Christmas.

Then I thought about my kids and remembered a time when Christmas was just pure excitement. Christmas dinner miraculously appeared on the table, Christmas presents were all wrapped and placed under the tree.  There was no drama. All you had to do was get caught up in the magic of it all, and perhaps wear an ugly reindeer sweater to please your grandmother. Now its my job to make sure that no matter what is going on in my Christmas, their Christmas is un-phased.

Yesterday at our church was the children’s program. I sat there and watched my daughter sing Away in the Manger. As I sat next to my step-dad, my sons, my husband, and my Mom watching our little J singing her heart out, I truly felt Christmas. The love. The hope. The magic. I have to remember to hold on to that feeling this week.

It reminded me that I need to stop worrying about all the craziness of Christmas and just enjoy it. I don’t have many more years of the magical Christmases that I am blessed with now. Pretty soon the Elf on the Shelf will remain on the shelf, my kids won’t be doing cute sign language peace and love signs in Christmas Programs, they will have figured out why Santa and Mom have very similar handwriting.

So I’m taking a deep breath in on this Monday morning, downing an extra Diet Pepsi for a much needed caffeine boost and realizing that I have in my power the ability to either get caught up in Christmas or to truly feel and enjoy it.

So good luck out there Moms.

To celebrate surviving another holiday I’m taking a week vacation next week, so I will not be blogging next Monday. But I’ll be back in 2012 to start another year of the crazy adventures of the JD Moms.

Have a wonderful Christmas everyone. Enjoy the magic.

Mandi

The Baby

“We need to talk to you about something”.

It’s a phrase that no parent wants to hear from a teacher or daycare provider. But a few weeks ago its exactly what I heard as I sat across the table from a young teacher in my son L’s class.

I braced myself and the attorney in me kicked already working on my rebuttal. Was he biting? Oh H can be rough with him maybe he’s being to rough? Oh he can throw tantrum if he doesn’t get his way…is he screaming? Great, he probably throws his food…but we’re working on that, he has a big brother and sister so he’s used to bigger kids… One by one the thoughts went through my mind and I prepared to defend my baby.

It didn’t make it any easier that I was sitting here regarding L. L is 18 months and is my baby. So I am naturally more protective of him. Plus, he is the sweetest most loving baby in the world so a complaint about him? No way. Not my L.

“He’s really quiet. He doesn’t talk much.”

Wait…what??? Really, that’s it? That’s the exact same news H’s teacher had praised him for about 20 minutes prior. The teacher explained that L didn’t talk as much as the other kids in his class. Wow, if only this girl knew the life L lived. He’s the baby behind two very loud kids. No one can get a word in edge wise with his brother and sister.

Of course being the baby of my family, I knew what the teacher was going to say next… “J and H always talked….he is much quieter than they ever were”. Ahh…the lovely comparisons that all babies of the family must endure. The teacher handed me a paper on working on talking and we left the center.

That conference was a little over a month ago. Since then I have of course had a hyper sensitivity to watching the words L says. It’s like someone that points out a bruise you didn’t know was on your arm…once they say it, you feel it the rest of the day. After the teacher mentioned L’s talking, I made it a point to see what words he does say.

This past month I have noticed a trend… although L is overall fairly quiet, he has figured out the words that he needs to get through his day. He has managed to assemble a “Last Child” Survival Dictionary…

1. “Mine” – the first truly important word that every baby of the family needs to know. This word is repeated at least 1000 times a day!

2. “Uh Oh” – Every little brother needs to know this one, especially when a hot wheel car is launched into a cup of chocolate milk.

3. “No” – Often used when his sister wants to rock him like a baby or dress him up.

4. “Bye Bye” – in this family we are always on the go, so it is no wonder this is his favorite word.

5. “Shoes” – See #1 above. We are always in hurry and in a mad dash to find shoes. The baby never wants to be left behind so he’s the first to look for them!

6. “Chips” – although this health conscious mother hates to admit it, chips are by far L’s favorite food.

7. “Juice” – A milk hater, he always makes sure to tell me to skip the milk and give him his beloved juice.

8. “Zoey” – (Our Dog). For man’s best friend is truly L’s best friend.

9. “Choo Choos” – his favorite toy.

10. “Kitties” – because the animal rights group need to schedule an intervention with L and his obsession with cat tail pulling.

11. “Mama/Dada”- to summon his personal bodyguards.

12. “Thank You” – Although he is a guy of few words – I am proud to say he always remembers to say this.

13. “Hug” – because this kid is a hugger, plain and simple!

14. “Wiggles” because if he has to watch Barbie one more time he may move.

15. “Cheese” – Because L has a camera in his face (thanks to his scrapbooking mother) more times than a Hollywood celebrity.

After about a month of paying extremely close attention to this, I backed off, and chilled out. He’s fine. Okay so he doesn’t talk as much as J did at that age. The first in the family gets tested on the same criteria as the baby even though their situations are completely different. Is that fair? L and I certainly don't think so.

At his 18 month check, I told our doctor about what the teacher had said. My doctor laughed and sighed “I hate those damn tests…he’s only 18 months old!!” She laughed. Then she turned to H and L who were playing on the floor of her office. L was playing happily with his train when his brother ripped the train out of his hand. “No! Mine! Choo Choo!!! Mine!!” L yelled and ripped the train right back. The forcefulness in his voice made his big brother back off. I gave my doctor the typical Mother of boys look of “I’m sorry…Ignore them, we’re working on it…”. But my doctor thought the battle over the choo choo was much more important than brotherly banter. She looked at me: “See, there’s your test. Did you see that?? Problem Communicating?? Umm…in the time he has sat here he just stood up to his 4 year old brother and got what he wanted, if that’s not excelling in communication I don’t know what is!"

So take some advice from a baby of the family...give us babies a little break! Being the caboose to a train is not as easy as it looks! :-) We'll get there, just give us some time!

Mandi