Searching for Chaz

Snow shoveling is a fact of life in Wisconsin. I hate it but my husband likes it so things are usually fine. My problem is what to do when he travels. 

Last year this problem was neatly solved by an extremely entrepreneurial neighborhood kid (let’s call him Jake) who ran a small snow blowing business. This kid was AMAZING. He would be out at 6am before school, he was reliable, he billed efficiently and in the off season he taught me tennis..really! Unfortunately Jake was more loyal to his education than me and he left for college this fall. I had heard to that Jake was going to try to find somebody to take over his business but as of the first major snowfall I had heard nothing. 

Now I have a lead!

Last week I spoke to some neighborhood teenagers who said that, “Chaz” had take over Jake’s business. The problem is that I don’t know who this Chaz is. Where does Chaz live? Does Chaz have a snow blower? Does Chaz have email? Does Chaz have a tennis racquet?

This kind of thing seems to happen a lot. Somebody knows somebody or something that will solve some seemingly major problem in my life. Unfortunately the solution is provided with incomplete information and I am left searching for the answer… the perfect cookie recipe, a great handyman, a fool proof way to occupy a child, the perfect diet. Usually I give up before I find the magic bullet and as luck would have it I seem okay living without these problems solved. But there is always the dream…

So I am searching for Chaz. If you know him, please send him my way!

Winter Amnesia

It is Sunday night and I am sitting on the floor of the bathroom while my two children have a bath. I believe that if I can't remember the last time my children have had a bath then it is probably time for one. So tonight it is. Usually my more patient husband does the bathing but alas, he is on his way to San Diego for a conference.

My husband said that he would rather stay here then fly "as far as possible from Madison without leaving the lower 48" but when I look at the snow outside it is hard to believe him. We have only been in real winter here for about five days and already I yearn for the feeling of sunshine on my shoulders.

Winter doesn't officially start for another 14 days but what we think of as winter in Wisconsin swept in last Sunday with snow and very cold temperatures. If you had asked me about winter six days ago I would have said that I was wishing for snow and not worried about it all. After just a few days of real cold I have been brutally reminded why people move south. 

After you have a baby there seems to be some sort of hormone that makes you forget about the struggles of pregnancy, pain of labor and hardships of the first few months. The same seems to be true of winter (I am coining the term winter amnesia). Some things that I had forgotten about include: the freezing of everything in my car including lip gloss, the half banana left in the back seat, the ink in my ball point pen and a bottle of water. I also forgot about my car windows freezing shut until I went to the dry cleaners drive through window and found myself unable to communicate with the nice lady as I failed to open my windows and was too close to her building to open my door. 

Oddly the winter amnesia thing seems to strike on a daily basis. Multiple times a day I feel warm indoors and then neglect to put my jacket and gloves in BEFORE going outside. Once I get outside it is so cold that it then takes me ten minutes to warm up once I do put my jacket on gloves on. You would think I would learn!

Humans are one of the few species to populate such a wide range of the world's climates. Could it be winter amnesia that makes this possible? Ask me again in spring when my memory of this winter disappeared.

Pose Adjustment

My neighbor Connie called last week. She called about a new yoga class that she went to that she thought I would like. The call was surprising because all of the other times that Connie has called it was about construction, landscape or a mess that one of us was creating along our shared property line. It was also surprising because I had no idea that Connie does yoga. She is probably around 60, a retired school teacher and she and her husband are the only “out” republicans in our neighborhood.  I have also never seen any evidence of exercise including walks coming from their side of the fence. She said, “I know you really like to exercise and I think you would really like this. The teacher’s name is Nicky and she is supposed to be one of the best teachers in town”. * What the heck I thought and entered the time into my Google calendar and promptly forgot about it.

Flash forward to yesterday, the day it was on my calendar. What the heck I thought again. When I got dressed I put on my extra supportive exercise bra, a tank-top, my yoga pants and then all of the other layers I would need for the morning with my daughter and then a mad dash to the yoga studio after nursery school drop off.

Come 12pm I was at the yoga studio. Since Connie is kind of old I was not surprised to see that most of the other people there are older than I. Probably a nice spread of women in the late 40s, 50s and even 60s. Piece of cake I thought. I was feeling kind of superior for bringing my own yoga mat and not being the kind of person who needs to borrow one. I also thought that since I exercise a lot and do yoga once a week that it would be a piece of cake. I even started to think about the rest of the afternoon and how I would fit in a real workout after this.

When I arrived women were kind of milling around. I was not sure who to pay for my drop-in class so I looked for Nicky. In my mind, Nicky would be about 29, probably have some kind of pixy haircut dyed jet black, be wearing a cute form fitting x-back shirt with a built in bra to support her perky B sized breasts,  and have her nose pierced.  I was very surprised to find out that Nicky was probably in her mid-70s and had some kind of eastern European accent.  Hmmm, I guess this means the class will be for old ladies. I was a little disappointed but interested to see what golden sneakers yoga would be like. Again my mind went to the other real workout I would need to have later in the day to compensate.

We started the class with a standing pose and some breathing and then very quickly moved into some of the hardest and most intensive yoga that I have ever done. The old lady kicked my butt!! I looked at my watch thinking that the class was almost over and I was a mere 30 minutes into a 90 minute class. Nicky was not a warm nurturing earth mama. She was kept coming over and adjusting my out of alignment poses and when I confused my right and left hands and knees she said, “You are just not listening!.”  Did I mention, the old lady kicked my butt!!

I ended up with a good workout and I am sore, sore, sore today. Since I am a glutton for punishment I plan to go back next week.

AND most importantly I am thankful to be reminded not to judge a women’s strength or ability by the color of her hair, or wrinkles around her face. Thanks for the adjustment Nicky!

*Note: In the spirit of full disclosure I hate exercise. I may do it a lot and be happy when its over but I don't like to exercise.

Lazy or Not

First published November 10th, 2008.

I am sitting in my living room curled up with a blanket and a latte contemplating the laundry the needs to be folded and beds that need to be made. I am feeling guilty but also hear the words of Oprah, Real Simple Magazine and other pop media targeted at my demographic reminding moms that “taking care of themselves” is important.

Yes, it is true that I have a cold,true that my daughter will need to be picked up from school in 70 minutes, true that I will drive my children around today, true that I will help with homework and true that I will make a reasonably healthy dinner that my family will sit down to together. Knowing this should help me enjoy the quiet while I have it but I am burdened with guilt. Shouldn’t I be doing more?

I guess it is time to rise from the couch and watch some TiVO’d Oprah while I fold laundry.

All I know About Being a Housewife I Learned in Business School

About ten years ago I finished my MBA. After finishing I worked for a .com and then launched a career in non-profit management and non-profit marketing. Flash forward 10 years and I am a stay-at-home mom struggling with my identity.

When I left my last job as director of marketing for a progressive public policy think tank (sounds good doesn’t it?) I didn’t realize that I would end up annoying everybody around me and even myself continuing to drag my business school lessons behind me like old luggage without wheels.

Here are some examples…

• I justify which leftovers we eat, what goes in lunch boxes and what we eat for dinner with FIFO (first in first out inventory management)
• I justify throwing away or donating all kinds of things by tossing off, “We have to consider our inventory costs.”
• I have created a year over year chart of donations to the PTO to track donor behavior and then say thing in the PTO meeting likes, “Well if you consider our year over year numbers you can see we are exceeding our projections.”
• When I am thinking about my to do list for the day I try to think about which things are urgent and important, urgent and unimportant, blah, blah, blah…
• I try to manage child behavior with SMART goals.
  

So, here's to the more experienced stay at home moms for putting up with the likes of me and to the home economics teachers of yesteryear who paved the way.

Just a few minutes a day.

Okay, I admit it. I am really, really busy doing very little of importance. Since I appear to be aware of this I am always looking for ways to do important things quickly. Apparently I am not alone since I am bombarded with a myriad of claims that if I just spent a few minutes day on X, Y or Z thing that I be happier, more fulfilled and a better member of society.

Here are some examples that I have heard in the last couple of days...

• If I follow Oprah's advice I will declutter my life physically and emotionally in just 10 minutes a days.
• Mark Bittman tells me in the introduction to "How to Cook Everything" that he created the book to help people make things from scratch for just a few minutes more than it would take to make something from a box. The book is 2 1/2 inches thick.
• Next to my bed is a copy of "8 Minute Meditation". Enough said.
• In my shower is a bottle of Philosphy facial cleanser that suggests that I start and end each day by massaging it into my skin for a minute since "cleanliness is a new beginning".
• If I spend just two extra minutes each time I go to the grocery store and bring my own bags, I will save zillions of trees.

I have been thinking about how all of these claims are increasingly making me feel inadequate.

The subtext is...if you really cared you would spend the few minutes each day on X, Y or Z thing. If you don't spend the few minutes you are a huge loser and you don't care about your home, children, partner, self, community, money or environment.

The real situation is that sometimes I feel like I don't even have time to pee. When I use my lovely Philosophy soap I can manage about 7 seconds before a small child interrupts me. If I manage to clean out my children's backpacks and hang up wet mittens before it all starts to stink, I am ahead of the game. Last night I made it through three pages of "8 Minute Meditation" before I fell asleep with the light on.

Do not feel sorry for me. It turns out that I do make time for what is really important.

Friday afternoon you will find me with a glass of wine in my hand chatting with friends and thinking about where to go out for dinner. The way I figure it, if we go out, I will save 17 minutes of grocery shopping, 32 minutes of dinner prep and 26 minutes of clean-up. I plan to savor my wine and not think about how I could have changed my life in those same precious minutes.