The Mythical Perfect Childhood

I spent most of my blogging time last week obsessing about one post.  And it's still not up.  There is a reason for that--I wrote it, edited it, asked my husband to read it to give me some feedback, edited again, and sat on it.  Over the weekend, I had a bit of an epiphany--this post I was so concerned about, was written with the completely wrong approach.  I couldn't change it enough so that I didn't think it didn't come across as whiny.

This trait aggravates me greatly, and I'd hate to have my writing perpetuate it unless it's absolutely necessary.  I'll probably still post it at some point, but it's going to need a lot of rewriting before it's done.  It is very personal, it is a large piece of my motivation, even obsessive drive to write.  But if I have even one person say to me, "Oh you poor thing, that must have been so hard for you" I'll hate myself for it.

It did make me start to wonder, however, we all have "issues" from childhood--why in the world do we tend to spend so much time dwelling on them?  Why do we tend to focus on how we were wronged in our minds instead of taking into consideration how lucky we really had/have it?  Why is there a seemingly eternal struggle for creating or defining that "perfect childhood" and then comparing all the ways we were denied that experience?

Even the most noble of intentions can go horribly wrong; just ask Macbeth.  No matter how much you think your kids are like you, they're going to be different in many regards and how you would handle something is going to wind up upsetting them in some way.  Despite the well meaning actions of a parent, while possibly "traumatic" at the time, the kid usually grows up and starts to understand their parents better as people allowing us to see why they did what they did.  We're still allowed to disagree with it, but if you're holding on to some deeply embedded resentment because your mom wouldn't let you go on that date with the guy with 8 tattoos and a nose ring in high school, it's probably time to move on.

These are just life lessons that you can learn and become a stronger person or ignore them so you can continue to have that pity party.  The problem with the latter is that eventually, you're the only one left at that party.  After all, you heard your mother say countless times, there are starving children in Africa while you are complaining about meatloaf and not wanting to eat all your vegetables.

Reading myself complain about my childhood seemed so ridiculous after I stepped back from the post for a day.  I never had to learn how to cook meth after school and balance that with getting my homework done to escape the same future.  I never got left in a 3rd world country where I was either sold into human trafficking or as a child soldier.  I never had a family member do anything inappropriate to me that would scar me for life.  I could go on and on.

The bottom line is, I'm (for the most part) a responsible adult, I make enough to provide for my family, I occasionally have fun and act silly, and I generally like who I've become.  I wouldn't be who I am today if it weren't for my experiences as a child and on up through yesterday.  There's no such thing as "perfect" but I certainly can have what works best for me. 

Hopefully, I'll be able to do the same for my daughter and keep her from becoming a serial killer when she grows up.  She can be mad at me when I embarrass her as a teenager or not let her have THE outfit that all the other girl's moms said was okay because I think it looks like a $2 hooker dress.  She'll learn to get over it because I had her best interests in mind when she didn't.

I'm Long Winded

I would probably make a terrible professional blogger because I can't seem to keep things short and sweet.  I go off on tangents, get too descriptive, and I write like my brain thinks--bordering on just plain crazy.  Probably explains why I've always been drawn to writing novels.  I like making sure I can see just what I imagine as I read my writing, I like to plant those critical tiny details that make a story more real or inviting.

I can't think of an assignment or a contest I've entered where I haven't run up against the word limit.  I always have to cut things down.  And I'm glad I do because I can decide which details are most important and which ones after a 12th look are really superfulous.  Blogging requires learning to exercise self restraint.

This, however, does not translate well to blogging.  I've been reading up on how to make mine better, more interesting,  and how to improve overall and the one thing that's glaring in my eager little face is I write far too much.  Which is quite ironic given that I'm not big on talking.  I can spill thousands of words onto a page without trying, but when it comes to conversation, I'm usually the one listening.  I rather like this contradiction about myself.

So, in honor of Friday or my very merry unbirthday, I'm going to keep this one short.  Ha!  Take that contradiction!  I shall learn to temper you yet!  Probably not, but at least I'll try.

What Does a Good Night's Sleep Feel Like?

Because I honestly can't remember the last time I had one.  I'm not really complaining (okay, maybe a little or a lot) but I'm starting to wonder if this pipe dream is even possible or are we just lying to the rest of the world when we tell them we woke up completely refreshed and ready to tackle the day.  Clearly it's a problem in America, or I wouldn't see at least one article a week focusing on the subject when I'm not really seeking them out.

So let's commiserate instead of lie to one another, if only for a day.  These are just some of the things that contribute to my overall crankiness and general disdain for almost the entire human population:

I cannot turn my brain off at night.  I've tried all the tricks I've heard about or been told firsthand.  Imagine a clear blue sky and you'll pass right out.  After a  week of trying I gave up.  Avoid TV, cell phone, and computer for at least an hour before going to bed--I didn't get to sleep any faster AND I was bored.  Don't read books in bed--at least two books behind on my "want to read" list and still takes me at least 30 minutes to crash.  Warm milk?  That's just gross.  Who actually likes the way that tastes?  Avoid caffeine after 2 pm?  I really think that kept me up longer.  Go to bed and get up at the same time every day?  Is that even possible as a parent?  The list goes on and on.

I stress about work, I stress about trying to fit in going to the gym or at least getting some exercise (and I'm failing miserably at it currently).  What I didn't get done that day that I need to make sure I finish tomorrow; taking care of home repairs that have been put off; monthly finances, am I spending enough time with my daughter; with my husband; the amount of time wasted commuting and what I could be doing with it; again the reasons never seem to end.

My husband also tells me that I rarely sleep "well."  I toss and turn, groan, and generally give off the impression that I'm not comfortable or getting quality sleep when I am out.  That can't be helping.  Awesome.

Then, if I manage to get to sleep before 11, I have dreams that would probably make Freud do dirty things to himself in the corner of his office in shame.  Seriously, just this weekend there was one with a zombie apocalypse theme where I was the one who locked all the people who might have been exposed in a room to prevent the spread.  Someone else let them out, so it became this violent survival dream.  The other one I gave birth to a baby girl in a matter of minutes but then I had to get up and immediately walk around with a nurse and when I got back, the baby was a boy and my brother in law had swaddled him up and put him in a tub of shallow water to let him nap.  These weird ass dreams happen 2-3 times a week and they tend to wake me up and I can't go back to sleep.  They vary from dinosaurs setting up toll booths and eating the cars that don't pay up to a version of American History X's infamous curb scene.  They disturb me and I can't help but wonder why they're so twisted or if I need to see a professional about them.

Then let's add to the mix, just for fun, an almost two year old daughter.  Who ever came up with the term "slept like a baby" as a good thing is a damn liar and they owe me an apology. We go through our little transition periods when something changes, and I expect those.  But the poor kid ended up with my allergies, and the slightest change in weather usually means she wakes up once a twice a night coughing or sneezing.  Even if my awesome husband is the one who goes in to check on her, I'm still awake and again fighting my brain to shut the hell up.  Oh, and she does NOT sleep in.  Weekends are amazing if she sleeps until 7 before wanting breakfast.

Finally, if I didn't punish myself enough already, I get up between 5:15 and 5:30 in the morning.  I do this to make sure I can be at work by 8:00.  I personally find this completely insane but if I don't leave the house by 6:50 in the mornings, dropping off the kid at day care and cursing traffic would take an hour and a half instead of 45.  We moved to the burbs for the good schools and learned to deal with the cookie cutter houses with next to no individuality but for some reason our jobs think it's ridiculous to move with us.  How selfish.

Naps are out of the question--I've tried to take them on purpose and I feel worse than I did before I went to sleep.  They still happen sometimes on accident, with the same result. 

Yes, I know about half of this (or more) is self inflicted and part of my own crazy personality.  But I'm also convinced that people who say they're rested most of the time are lying.  And if they're not, I kind of want to punch them in the face.  So join in my Monday morning gripe-fest.  Make me feel a little less ridiculous so I know I'm not the only one in search of just one night of good sleep... if it even exists.  Tomorrow I'll go back to lying to myself when I say, "Sleep is over rated."

I am NOT a People Person

I have an uncle who has an amazing gift for gab.  He can walk up to anyone in a room and within 15 minutes they're best friends.  People feel at ease around him, and he genuinely seems to enjoy being around a wide variety of personalities.  I watch in awe as he walks around a room, engages complete strangers, and walks away with new friends that genuinely want to see him again.  It's a talent that eludes many of us, and is virtually impossible to explain how one goes about doing it successfully.

I can say without a doubt I do not share that characteristic.  In many ways I'm envious (benign envy?) of his obvious talents.  Professionally and often socially, I am at a disadvantage.  And no matter what self help articles or professional networking advice types tell me, it does NOT get easier with practice.

Unless I'm paired with an extroverted, inviting person, there are many awkward silences.  Conversation does not flow freely, and I know it's evident that my attempts at asking polite yet interesting questions is labor intensive.

I suppose I'm more British than American in that I am terrified of asking that one seemingly safe question and getting the bear trap answer.  I see a wedding band, so I think to ask if they're married and for how long, but I don't because I'm afraid they're going to respond by telling me their spouse died in a horrific car crash two months ago.  Or if they have any kids to hear that their teenager just got hauled off to rehab for the third time yesterday.

Or worse, I get stuck talking to someone I can't stand within five minutes.  As terrible as I am at forced social interaction, I'm even more terrible at hiding my feelings.  If I think someone is arrogant or egocentric, or just plain dull then my facial expressions and follow up questions are guaranteed to give me away.  I'l  let you imagine how that works out at industry functions.  I don't mind people disliking me, in fact many times I prefer it.  I just don't like potentially costing my company business because I can't fake a smile at the appropriate time.

I hate the open setting more than any other because I have zero clues to guide my conversation until I start talking to them.  If I meet them at their office, I can cheat and look for family pictures or evidence of hobbies, etc. and I can swing those meetings pretty well without looking like an inept buffoon.

Alas, I continue to put myself in situations where I end up leaving an event sweating, completely drained of energy, and very much wanting to crawl into a cave to avoid all human contact for at least a week.  I have an alumni event later this month that I'm forcing myself to attend.  I keep hoping that something eventually clicks and the whole process becomes a little bit easier.

Because in the end, I can't do this job or even my dream job successfully without being able to cleverly fake my way through a room full of strangers and leave convincing at least one of them that I'm personable and charming.  I keep watching my uncle in awe, but I can't take him with me to these things--I know I'd let him take the lead because it's so much easier.  And that will get me no where.

I don't have to start enjoying it--that would be unrealistic because dealing with people in general will always be "work" for me.  I just need to get to the point where people can't tell that it's work.

One More Take on Marissa Mayer

Eve at just over 12 months

As if it hasn't been covered to death already, here's one more view on Yahoo! hiring Marissa Mayer knowing she is 6 months pregnant as their latest CEO. To be honest, I didn't know much about her when she was first announced and I didn't realize she was pregnant until the next day when the news stories flashed EVERYWHERE. It got old fast, but at the same time it is a corporate first and widely unexpected.  It struck a nerve with me personally, as a relatively new mom struggling daily with finding some kind of balance with climbing the corporate ladder and feeling like I'm not missing too much of my daughter's life.

Eve is 21 months old right now.  She's nothing short of awesome.  The worst part of my day is dropping her off at daycare around 6:45 in the morning.  Tears have surfaced on more than one occasion.  And I can't even begin to describe the gut wrenching pain of having to tell your child you have to go when they're crying and holding on to you not wanting you to leave.  The best part of my day is picking her up between 5:30 and 6 depending on traffic.  She's always so happy to see me--flashing a gigantic smile and running over to hug my legs and ask me to pick her up.  We've gotten into a sort of rhythm, but it took a long while to get to this point.  And I'm not exactly thrilled she spends a majority of her waking hours with someone other than me.

I took three months off from work when she was born.  I laid out a detailed plan on how I would work from home, slowly at first, but then ramp up so that by the second month I'd be doing my entire job from home with a few exceptions.  I thought I'd be able to get it down so fast, that while yes it would be an adjustment, it wouldn't completely turn my life upside down, and I wouldn't lose too much ground professionally.

Wow, was I wrong.  I couldn't believe how much I'd underestimated motherhood would impact my professional life.  First off, where I'd been extremely career driven before, I'd found that I preferred spending time with my little baby.  I was so anxious to see what new thing she was going to learn each day, when she'd hit the baby milestones.  Watch all of her firsts.  Suddenly the after work drinks to network didn't appeal to me.  I'd rather be home with her.  I continue to struggle with the guilt of missing so much of her day and only getting to spend a few short hours with her in the evenings before she goes to bed.

Second, I nursed.  For an entire year.  It was extremely important to both me and my husband that we give her the best nutritional start we could.  I'm proud of it, but try scheduling meetings or taking phone calls or even planning to attend an event after work around that schedule.  To keep things flowing (so to speak) you have to pump about the same time your baby would be taking her usual meal.  So three times a day, I shut my door for about 20-25 minutes and focused on answering emails or doing reports and other paperwork.  Yes, I researched how to make my pump "hands free."

Traveling was difficult to say the least.  I managed to make a few day trips and a couple of 2 and 3 night stays at various times, but then that meant pumping 4-6 times a day, making sure I had a refrigerator/freezer to store it in my hotel room, and then transporting everything back and forth on airplanes with freezer packs.  But I also avoided more than one trip because it was complicated and again, I wanted to be home.

Add on top of it, how much more difficult it would have been if my husband hadn't been so understanding and supportive of my career, stepping up to play Mr. Mom while I was gone.  But that also means his career has the potential to suffer as well.  If I'm out of town, and he gets the call that Eve has a fever, he has to drop everything to go pick her up and take her to the doctor.  If she's sick for more than a day, one of us has to stay home with her.  All of that is time away from work when others are there.

Now back to Mrs. Mayer.  She'll be a first time mom--is she also underestimating the insanity that is motherhood?  Obviously, she's in a financial position to have full time help should she want it, but will she grapple with the ever present "mommy guilt" the same way I do?  Will Yahoo! and more importantly its investors and analysts be understanding of a flexible work schedule when it comes to the stock price?  Will the Board continue to support her and how she wants to run the company if they start to feel the frequent pediatrician visits or calls about a sick child are interfering with the company's performance?  She's not exactly taking over the most stable company--and turning a company around is a lot more demanding than keeping one on a smooth sailing course.

Personally, I hope she's some kind of miracle CEO that turns Yahoo! into a relevant player again.  I hope she's able to find that balance where she's comfortable with the sacrifices she makes at home and the ones she makes at work.  Because without question, both will have to happen.  I hope she's fulfilled personally and professionally.  And I hope that she doesn't mind that professionally ambitious moms everywhere are looking at her in hopes that a very public success story will help pave the way for their own success.