These are the songs that make me want to get up and get going!! Never underestimate the power that music can have on your soul. Your kids will love these songs, too. They will see their mommy happy and enjoying her day. If you have young children, take advantage of this age! There will come a time when dancing around might make your kids gag. But if they are not yet tweens, they'll want to dance and sing right a long with you. Feel free to leave a comment with your favorite tunes. I'd love to know what you think I missed!
Freedom -George Michael
Free - Phish
You Don't Know Me - Ben Folds
Landed - Ben Folds
Off the Wall - Michael Jackson
King of Spain - Moxy Fruvous
"Superstar" Andrew Llyod Webber sound track for "Jesus Christ, Superstar"
Phantom Limb - The Shins
No Rain- Blind Melon
Let Go- Frou Frou
Jive Talking - Bee Gees
I Gotta Feeling - Black Eyed Peas
Southern Cross - Crosby Stills and Nash
So Much to Say - Dave Mathews
Shiny Happy People - R.E.M.
America - Simon and Garfunkle
I Get Around - Beach Boys
All you Want - Dido
Someone Saved my Life Tonight - Elton John
Pleasant Valley Sunday - The Monkees
The Love You Save - Michael Jackson
In Your Eyes - Peter Gabriel
Fall Down - Toad the Wet Sprocket
L-O-V-E - Nat Cole
I Don't Want to Know - Fleetwood Mac
In My Life- The Beatles
Falling Slowly - From the film "Once"
Let's Go Crazy - Prince and the Revolution
Abba - Angel Eyes
Mr. Jones - Counting Crows
I'd Like That - XTC
Aquarious - "Hair" Soundtrack
Ally Loprete is a stay-at-home mother of 2 boys, a former television, theatre and film actress, singer, performer, storyteller, and teacher. An advocate of parents, Ally founded OurMilkMoney.com, an online business directory of self-employed parents and an organization dedicated to helping parents find financial opportunities and support. She is also the host of This Little Parent Stayed Home weekly radio show available on Toginet.com, and the playwright & performer for her one-woman show about the journey of dealing with unexpected drama in life, Chasing Ally.
Showing posts with label OurMilkMoney. Show all posts
Showing posts with label OurMilkMoney. Show all posts
Saturday, April 24, 2010
The Importance of Mommy Happy Time
If you are a work-at-home mom like me, then your days are jam packed with a full itinerary, and you have to schedule time to pee. Each day is an exercise in extreme flexibility and if you get anything done as expected it is counted as bonus.
As immersed as I am, I know that this very well may be the most exciting time of my life, and I don’t want to miss it. I’ve made it a point to schedule in little bits of time for myself that are JUST MINE. It’s important that we take time to enjoy it all, even in the midst of carpooling with blue tooth conference calls, blogging during nap-time and podcasting while folding laundry. It’s not easy- but it is crucial. To keep a healthy pace and stay in tip-top shape, we must keep organized and commit to giving ourselves “happy time”.
With an overcrowded schedule, you may need to multi-task your happy time just like everything else. Here is a quick list of ways to incorporate some rose smelling among your daily chores:
As immersed as I am, I know that this very well may be the most exciting time of my life, and I don’t want to miss it. I’ve made it a point to schedule in little bits of time for myself that are JUST MINE. It’s important that we take time to enjoy it all, even in the midst of carpooling with blue tooth conference calls, blogging during nap-time and podcasting while folding laundry. It’s not easy- but it is crucial. To keep a healthy pace and stay in tip-top shape, we must keep organized and commit to giving ourselves “happy time”.
With an overcrowded schedule, you may need to multi-task your happy time just like everything else. Here is a quick list of ways to incorporate some rose smelling among your daily chores:
- Make a schedule. As organized as I try to be, I never feel organized enough. I can’t believe there is one mom in the world who feels her life is completely put in order every day, and if there is, I’d like to meet her and tell her I am sure that she is lying. However, you must never underestimate the power of making lists. If you can find 5 minutes at the beginning of each day, jot down the things you hope to accomplish, and make sure you add some time for yourself to decompress. I have found that just making the list is a moment that I can claim as mine. It helps me to feel more in control of my day and ready to take on whatever disasters may be awaiting my arrival. Plus, is there anything more satisfying than being able to cross off a completed task?
- Listen to Music. I recently made a CD called “Hey, I LOVE this song”. Which is a compilation of songs exactly like the title of the CD. These are songs that when are heard, I usually gasp and say, “Oh my god I love this one…” You know what I am talking about. It probably wouldn’t take you long to create your own list given 20 minutes. I play these songs at the gym, when I doing house chores, and in the car. My kids have learned to love these songs as well because when these special songs fill the air, they see their mommy at her happiest. Never feel too silly to dance with your kids or shake some booty while stirring the vegis. Happy music = a happy house. (for a list of my personal “LOVE this song” or “guilty pleasure” songs, visit here- and I make no apologies).
- Get some exercise. Believe me, I know that finding time to work out is as difficult as finding time to sleep on most weeks. In fact, when I was working in the corporate world, finding time to work out was literally impossible. I don’t mind saying I took real offense at people who said I needed to make it a priority- especially because I barely had time to eat, sleep, or spend time with my new baby boy. But if you are a stay-at-home parent, you have more control of your schedule than ever before- as packed as it may be. In the corporate world, I was PAID to sit on my tush all day- not exercise. But now that I am my own boss, I have realized that the gym is a wonderful place to get some “me time,” not to mention a long shower...and nothing beats the productivity that comes from that time. I get my best ideas on the treadmill!
- Laugh. Laugh with your kids, laugh with your spouse, laugh with other grownups you see at the grocery store, at your kids school and sports practices, and laugh with yourself. Life is full of hilarity, and if you are not laughing on a daily basis, it means you are moving too fast to notice it. Your kids will never be this age again. Instead of being one of those parents who are constantly murmuring, “I hate this age, I wish they’d grow out of this annoying phase soon, “ be the parent that relishes each moment, makes mistakes and cracks themselves up. You’ll be surprised at how much your kids will admire you and grow to be adults that are celebrating their lives at the envy of others.
- Create a grateful list. This always, always, always improves my spirits 200%. I highly recommend that you do this at least once a month. The list should be of things that you know you are privileged to have in your life. It may start out with obvious entries such as, “I am grateful that I have a roof over my head. I am grateful for the food in my fridge.” but eventually you’ll feel more genuine about your gratitude. You should make certain to also include things that you WANT to be grateful for as if they are already in place. “I am grateful that my 4 year old is well behaved and doesn’t pick on his younger brother. I am grateful that the baby is finally sleeping through the night.” Don’t underestimate the power of wishful thinking. It’s funny, this is the one task that people seems to balk at when I make the suggestion, but once they do it, they are always amazed at how worth their time it was.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Surviving the Recession (Yes, It's Possible)
Written by Ally Loprete
I have a plan that I’d like to share with you -- because it involves YOU. Actually, it involves everybody. If everybody does their part, we not only have a chance of surviving the recession together, we have a chance of rebuilding our society into something spectacular.
First, let me ask you a question: When was the last time you were given amazing customer service? I don’t mean service that simply gave you what you paid for and did it with a smile and a bonus “have a nice day.” I mean the kind of service that throws out the rules of business and treats you like someone of value and an individual with needs different than the last customer’s needs. Not a one-size-fit all approach that we've come to know as the norm.
Is good old fashion customer service so far a thing of the past that the majority of this generation never really knew what it was to begin with? Have we gotten so used to the automated systems and virtual relationships that nothing is genuine anymore?
I DON’T THINK SO.
I am not complaining. I am proud of where we are... although I wasn’t at first. I was more skeptical and angrier than most. I don’t mean to harp on the big businesses -- after all they are run by people who have needs just as you and I do. But very often in big business we are unable to speak to real people who are able to meet our needs as their customers. Big business has become a large robot not programmed to care about our feelings, sensitivities, and real human experience. We grew up being told that everyone is special, but big business has taught us that everyone is exactly the same and that extraordinary needs are not tolerated -- or, at least, the robot is not programmed to understand them.
However, the good news is that recently I’ve seen a shift in that energy. People are needing to connect on a more human level. True we are communicating through text messages, emails, and blogs (ahem), but we are still connecting. And in some ways there is more of a connection because we all have access to one another on a level much greater than ever before: The Internet.
The Wonderful World of Web is a really good thing! So good that, if we read between the lines, we will see our unlimited potential and how capable we are of getting back to that sense of good old fashion customer service mentality.
Since we are able to shop and do business online, we can now choose from literally millions of companies to work with. If we don’t like their service, we can go elsewhere, just as easily. It’s not like we have to drive over to the next town because we didn’t like the clerk at the grocery store. We can buy from just about anyone we want.
Do you realize how much power this gives us?
It means the big businesses are losing us and, actually, the loss that big corporations have already suffered is a primary contribution to the recession we are in right now.
But that’s OK. It’s all part of how society rebuilds itself. Sometimes you have to take a step back before you can go forward.
So, if we see the recession as a not-so-bad thing, we can use it to our advantage. Are you with me?
What this means is that smaller businesses, for the first time in decades, have a fighting chance. And in case you haven’t noticed, small business is exploding.
They have something big businesses don’t have: a personal touch.
For those of you who don’t remember what it was like to have this so-called “good customer service,” don’t feel bad. I don’t know that I do either, but I’ve seen a lot of movies and I’ve listened to a lot of old people talk about what it was like in “their day.” I imagine it to be something like this:
People GAVE because they were in a position TO GIVE. I imagine there were some people who didn’t hold up their end of the bargain, but hey, it probably all evened out in the end. Some people call it Karma -- and Karma is a concept that has been around since the beginning of time.
So, there is your answer! Karma is the way that we are going to survive this recession.
You have something? Give. You need something? Take.
This recession is a way for the universe to clean the world up a bit, and rebuild the social order of our culture. You can’t have a rainbow without first having a storm.
This new (or should I say old fashioned) way of business is creeping into the general public more and more. And I am mighty impressed, I have to say.
Here is the best part: You can choose who to do business with, and if you choose to support the small business men and women in our society, I can pretty much guarantee that they will support you, and give you that personal touch which has been missing for the last 30 years.
P.S. You can find those men and women at http://www.ourmilkmoney.com/.
Ally Loprete is the Co-Founder of OurMilkMoney.com, an online directory of self-employed parents across the country. Ally's focus is to help expose parents working to create a better life for their families and her mission is to educate consumers on the value of purchasing from the small business owner. Ally is passionate about inspiring parents to connect with one another, and will often write about the brilliant ideas that seem to come to her only in the shower or while blowing her hair dry.
First, let me ask you a question: When was the last time you were given amazing customer service? I don’t mean service that simply gave you what you paid for and did it with a smile and a bonus “have a nice day.” I mean the kind of service that throws out the rules of business and treats you like someone of value and an individual with needs different than the last customer’s needs. Not a one-size-fit all approach that we've come to know as the norm.
Is good old fashion customer service so far a thing of the past that the majority of this generation never really knew what it was to begin with? Have we gotten so used to the automated systems and virtual relationships that nothing is genuine anymore?
I DON’T THINK SO.
I am not complaining. I am proud of where we are... although I wasn’t at first. I was more skeptical and angrier than most. I don’t mean to harp on the big businesses -- after all they are run by people who have needs just as you and I do. But very often in big business we are unable to speak to real people who are able to meet our needs as their customers. Big business has become a large robot not programmed to care about our feelings, sensitivities, and real human experience. We grew up being told that everyone is special, but big business has taught us that everyone is exactly the same and that extraordinary needs are not tolerated -- or, at least, the robot is not programmed to understand them.
However, the good news is that recently I’ve seen a shift in that energy. People are needing to connect on a more human level. True we are communicating through text messages, emails, and blogs (ahem), but we are still connecting. And in some ways there is more of a connection because we all have access to one another on a level much greater than ever before: The Internet.
The Wonderful World of Web is a really good thing! So good that, if we read between the lines, we will see our unlimited potential and how capable we are of getting back to that sense of good old fashion customer service mentality.
Since we are able to shop and do business online, we can now choose from literally millions of companies to work with. If we don’t like their service, we can go elsewhere, just as easily. It’s not like we have to drive over to the next town because we didn’t like the clerk at the grocery store. We can buy from just about anyone we want.
Do you realize how much power this gives us?
It means the big businesses are losing us and, actually, the loss that big corporations have already suffered is a primary contribution to the recession we are in right now.
But that’s OK. It’s all part of how society rebuilds itself. Sometimes you have to take a step back before you can go forward.
So, if we see the recession as a not-so-bad thing, we can use it to our advantage. Are you with me?
What this means is that smaller businesses, for the first time in decades, have a fighting chance. And in case you haven’t noticed, small business is exploding.
They have something big businesses don’t have: a personal touch.
For those of you who don’t remember what it was like to have this so-called “good customer service,” don’t feel bad. I don’t know that I do either, but I’ve seen a lot of movies and I’ve listened to a lot of old people talk about what it was like in “their day.” I imagine it to be something like this:
People GAVE because they were in a position TO GIVE. I imagine there were some people who didn’t hold up their end of the bargain, but hey, it probably all evened out in the end. Some people call it Karma -- and Karma is a concept that has been around since the beginning of time.
So, there is your answer! Karma is the way that we are going to survive this recession.
You have something? Give. You need something? Take.
This recession is a way for the universe to clean the world up a bit, and rebuild the social order of our culture. You can’t have a rainbow without first having a storm.
This new (or should I say old fashioned) way of business is creeping into the general public more and more. And I am mighty impressed, I have to say.
Here is the best part: You can choose who to do business with, and if you choose to support the small business men and women in our society, I can pretty much guarantee that they will support you, and give you that personal touch which has been missing for the last 30 years.
P.S. You can find those men and women at http://www.ourmilkmoney.com/.
Ally Loprete is the Co-Founder of OurMilkMoney.com, an online directory of self-employed parents across the country. Ally's focus is to help expose parents working to create a better life for their families and her mission is to educate consumers on the value of purchasing from the small business owner. Ally is passionate about inspiring parents to connect with one another, and will often write about the brilliant ideas that seem to come to her only in the shower or while blowing her hair dry.
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Two Comedians and a Baby Running an Internet Company in the Garage.
Writtem by Guest Blogger Chris Mancini
The title is not an exaggeration. Last year, comedian Graham Elwood and I started comedyfilmnerds.com since we were so tired of trying to get work with web companies or any other company for that matter. So we thought we should just become competitors. Of course we were doing it all ourselves and on less than a shoestring. So everything took longer and the credit card balances went up for both of us.
Our goals were ambitious. We wanted to feature movie reviews and columns written by professional comedians, interviews and comedy CDs, DVDs and books available for sale along with movie downloads. We’re a mix of Filmthreat, Amazon and ITunes. So our site was cobbled together with duct tape and off we went. And then it crashed and didn’t work. Many times. That has mostly been corrected.
Audge was on maternity leave while we started everything. We were so excited. We moved my office into the garage and that was going to be the baby’s bedroom. At first I was disappointed but if anyone with children knows, to have a room detached from the rest of the house is much more awesome than either parent will let on to the other.
So every Tuesday Graham comes over and we play “internet moguls” in the garage. We have a blast. We laugh, work, and strategize. And then we try to slowly learn how to get people to come to our website.
But my wife’s maternity leave ended and she soon went back to work and I was suddenly a stay at home dad/comedian/author/filmmaker/web guy. It’s been tough, but we’re getting through it. We’re both working double shifts as we switch off from work and childcare duties and try and get a few hours of sleep in the process. Between working on the website, finishing the book and doing an occasional show there wasn’t been much time left.
So Graham and I shifted our website schedule to later in the day and my son Griffin was now part of the mix. He would be present at the reading of the minutes and have voting rights during board meetings.
So now Griffin is almost a year old, and it’s been about a year since we launched the site. But now Griffin is crawling and he won’t stay in the “bouncy chair” whileF Graham and I struggle and take an hour to try and add a jpeg image of a T-shirt to our online shopping cart.
There are times when Graham holds the baby as I look up a purchase order or find out who Doug Benson is supposed to make a CD out to. The first time I asked him I just flat out said, “Is that weird, that I’m asking you to hold the baby?” He laughed and said no, he has many nieces and nephews and much practice. So I gave Griffin to Graham and he instantly took to him and tried to rip his necklace off. I think it was made of shark teeth or something because Graham’s a surfer and they… all fight sharks, right?
Now you expect comedians to make you laugh, get drunk, hit on waitresses and pass out in a back alley of a club somewhere. OK, we’ve all done it. But it’s a weird picture to see two comedians taking care of a baby. It’s an especially weird picture for the actual comedians.
But here’s the thing: I’ve never been happier. I’m doing my own thing. Taking care of my baby, running a business and there is no one to answer to. If I’m going to learn how to use a website content management system and learn how to use Microsoft Accounting (and I’m still learning, very slowly), I’m going to do it for me, and not anyone else.
I’m sure our company would be making millions of dollars right now if we had things like a staff and a marketing budget. And maybe a new computer. But it is making a little money, thanks to the support of comedy and film fans, comedians, filmmakers, advertisers and other people supporting us along with one intern who is trying to figure out a nice way of telling us she’s too busy to help us anymore. And of course the support from OMM during my book release (PACIFY ME: A HANDBOOK FOR THE FREAKED OUT NEW DAD) has been amazing.
We’re in the middle of rebuilding comedyfilmnerds.com (we originally called it comedyfilmnerdsdotcom.com but it was screwing up navigation and links) and my son is getting bigger. I can see the growth in every part of my life right now, and it feels good. Having children changes your perspective for the better. WAY better. And starting my own business has changed it even more. I’m not “industry obsessed” or constantly “waiting for someone to call me back” anymore. And even if I’m having a bad day, Griffin smiles at me and then it simply doesn’t matter anymore. Now about that million dollars…
Chris Mancini is a comedian and author. His first book “Pacify Me: A Handbook for the Freaked-Out New Dad” is now available for purchase. Enter to win the book for FREE!
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Give
By Guest Blogger, Lisa Lange
It's not as hard as it sounds. Just reach out your hand.
I know that may sound absurd, but I know that many people understand
this concept. I know, as many of you do, that there is always
something to give. Time, energy, a helping hand, a shoulder to lean
on, an ear to listen, a pat on the back, a kind word, a kiss or a hug.
Giving of yourself is truly the best gift of all. It doesn't cost any
money, and it keeps the energy flowing. Since the universe works in
full circle, you must give in order to receive.
Over the past year, while in the infancy stages of my business, I have
been faced with many obstacles, opportunities, whatever you would like
to call them. And, I know that they will keep coming. The difference
between now and then? The way I look at life. It's not a chore, it's
not "hurry up weekend". It's a journey.
I have always been told that people come into your life for a reason,
a season or a lifetime. It is amazing when you change your focus,
decide to maintain positive energy, and focus on what "really matters"
the people that come into your life. And, unfortunately, the people
that make their way out of your life. What happens when you welcome
these "new" people into your life? They bring the gifts to you, like
you have brought to others. You become surrounded by the people that
make a difference. Here comes your pat on the back, your listening ear
when you feel down, your shoulder to lean on when you think you've had
enough, and the kind word you've waited so long to hear.
What are you going to do the next time you feel like you have nothing?
Lisa Lange, Owner of Reading About Me is a friend of the Our Milk Money organization, and a very generous support to parents and families around Arizona and all over the online community.
Monday, July 28, 2008
THE FIRST WEEK (A confession)
“It’s okay, buddy. It’ll be alright, pal. Don’t cry.” I say half heartedly. I’m only saying it because it seems like that’s what I’m supposed to say. I don’t really know what I’m doing. In fact I don’t even know this kid. I feel bad saying that because I think I’m supposed to be laughing and cheering as I run down the hallway with tears in my eyes handing out cigars. That’s what every new 
father does in TV shows and the movies. I’m trying to fake it, but I’m having trouble. It’s 10:00 AM on a stormy morning in April of 2006. I’m in the nursery of my local hospital looking down at my son who was born exactly one hour ago. He’s naked, bloated, still a little messy from the trip, and screaming his lungs out. He’s been bawling since the second I met him. I’m standing over his crib (or whatever they call those hospital issued nondescript wooden rectangles with mattresses.) and thinking he must be freezing. Then I touch his exposed belly and it’s actually quite warm due to the heating lamp above him. He resembles a Rotisserie chicken on display at the front of a grocery store deli. I look up at the big window and there are my in-laws in the waiting room looking in and beaming from ear to ear as they alternately snap pictures and talk on their cell phones heralding the good news of their newly arrived grandson.. Then they look up at me and I figure I should probably go into my routine again. “Daddy’s here, buddy. It’ll be okay. Just a little longer.” I’ve been an actor for as long as I can remember and this is without a doubt my worst performance ever. My wife is in the recovery room after her c-section procedure. She’s probably emotional, lonely and in pain. I’d much rather be with her. She needs me. I’ve known her 8 years. I’ve known this kid an hour. He has no idea who I am. I try to touch his hand but he pulls away. He hasn’t even opened his eyes yet. I 
can’t even tell who he looks like. I’m just not feeling it yet.
I’ve been up since 4 AM after getting about 3 hours of restless sleep. I drove down to the hospital in a deluge that would make Noah nervous. I’ve been trying to remain calm while at the same time keeping my wife comfortable and relaxed. Our birth plan has pretty much been crumpled up, and tossed into the recycling bin. What was supposed to be a calm, new age-y hynpo–birth without any drugs has turned into an early morning scheduled c-section with quite a few different drugs. All of this after a very taxing pregnancy. Obviously I wasn’t the one carrying the load (literally) so I shouldn’t complain, but I witnessed first hand what my wife was going through and you can’t help but experience some of the hardships too. Especially when the hormones rear their ugly head. I’ll never forget the day I came home from a particularly grueling day of work only to be screamed at for not wanting to name the baby at exactly that moment….7 months before he arrived. Apparently that proved I didn’t even WANT a baby. Pile on the 6 months of fertility treatments, the anxiety of not knowing if we were even going to be able to conceive children and if we did, how we would pay for them once they arrived and you can see what a harrowing year and a half it’s been. And the cause of ALL of that is lying in front of me howling away and not caring. He doesn’t seem to be sorry at all. If anything he should be comforting me. I know this all sounds heartless, but mothers have that maternal instinct. Fathers don’t. My wife has known this child much longer than I have. She’s felt him move. She knows his eating habits, when he’s sleeping and when he’s awake. She has been his personal Santa Claus. I have to learn how to be a father. And apparently I have to learn it right away because my wife is going to be out of commission for awhile as she recovers physically and mentally from a very invasive surgical procedure.
The next few days don’t get much better. I spend the entire week in the hospital room trying to sleep on a small cot that a prison would reject. The baby is awake every two hours of the night and I am still trying to find my way around a diaper. My wife has fallen into a serious post partum depression through the pain killing haze. Oh. And I’m suffering back spasms that would keep a professional athlete out of a championship game. And it’s all this 9 pound 21 inch “bundle of joy”s fault. When does the “you don’t just love your children, you fall IN love with them” thing start? Right now he’s just somebody I have to keep alive. Kind of like those bags of flour they give you for a week in high school Sociology class. Except I have my bag of flour for the rest of my life.
And then it happens. It’s the fourth day of his life. The doctor is about to perform a circumcision. My wife is still bed ridden so I am present at the “ceremony”. There’s a little bit of ritualism as my father in law recites a Hebrew prayer via cell phone. Since my wife and I are an interfaith couple, she being Jewish, I being Catholic and neither of us very good at being either one, we have decided to compromise on the Bris. No big party, but a nice prayer and coincidentally our doctor moonlights as a Moyle. So there we are in a small sterile room in the maternity ward, my son fast asleep and the doctor preparing to begin the procedure. The act itself is not something any grown man should have to witness so I stand back against the wall. I suddenly hear a wail from my son the likes of which I’ve never heard in the span of his short life. I’ve heard him cry pretty much nonstop for a week but this is different. This is a scream of pain. He’s in agony and he’s helpless against it. My boy. My poor, sweet little boy. I would do anything to take that pain away from him. In fact it was at that moment when I knew I would do everything within my power to keep him out of danger for as long as I’m alive. HEY! I think I’m in love. And then a week, nay, months of pent up emotions completely gives way and the levee breaks. I burst into tears and start shouting across the room, “It’s okay, buddy. Daddy’s here. It’ll be alright.” This time I mean it.
The week ended in love but started with indifference. 2 years and 4 months later I wish I knew then what I know now. I wish I could hop in my Way Back Machine and stand beside myself in the nursery that first day and whisper in my own ear, “Hang in there. You’re looking at a stranger now, but this little guy will soon be your best friend. He’s going to make you laugh harder than you have in years. When you have a bad day at work, he’ll run into your arms as soon as you get in the door and instantly make it better. He’ll look at you with awe and wonder. He’ll also laugh at everything you do and say and you can’t beat that. So take heart. This is the toughest week of both of your lives. It only gets better from here.” Unfortunately the 2006 me would probably turn and say, “I HAVEN’T SLEPT IN DAYS! YOU’RE OBVIOSULY A HALLUCINATION! BUZZ OFF, 2008 ME!” But still. At least I tried.
father does in TV shows and the movies. I’m trying to fake it, but I’m having trouble. It’s 10:00 AM on a stormy morning in April of 2006. I’m in the nursery of my local hospital looking down at my son who was born exactly one hour ago. He’s naked, bloated, still a little messy from the trip, and screaming his lungs out. He’s been bawling since the second I met him. I’m standing over his crib (or whatever they call those hospital issued nondescript wooden rectangles with mattresses.) and thinking he must be freezing. Then I touch his exposed belly and it’s actually quite warm due to the heating lamp above him. He resembles a Rotisserie chicken on display at the front of a grocery store deli. I look up at the big window and there are my in-laws in the waiting room looking in and beaming from ear to ear as they alternately snap pictures and talk on their cell phones heralding the good news of their newly arrived grandson.. Then they look up at me and I figure I should probably go into my routine again. “Daddy’s here, buddy. It’ll be okay. Just a little longer.” I’ve been an actor for as long as I can remember and this is without a doubt my worst performance ever. My wife is in the recovery room after her c-section procedure. She’s probably emotional, lonely and in pain. I’d much rather be with her. She needs me. I’ve known her 8 years. I’ve known this kid an hour. He has no idea who I am. I try to touch his hand but he pulls away. He hasn’t even opened his eyes yet. I 
can’t even tell who he looks like. I’m just not feeling it yet.I’ve been up since 4 AM after getting about 3 hours of restless sleep. I drove down to the hospital in a deluge that would make Noah nervous. I’ve been trying to remain calm while at the same time keeping my wife comfortable and relaxed. Our birth plan has pretty much been crumpled up, and tossed into the recycling bin. What was supposed to be a calm, new age-y hynpo–birth without any drugs has turned into an early morning scheduled c-section with quite a few different drugs. All of this after a very taxing pregnancy. Obviously I wasn’t the one carrying the load (literally) so I shouldn’t complain, but I witnessed first hand what my wife was going through and you can’t help but experience some of the hardships too. Especially when the hormones rear their ugly head. I’ll never forget the day I came home from a particularly grueling day of work only to be screamed at for not wanting to name the baby at exactly that moment….7 months before he arrived. Apparently that proved I didn’t even WANT a baby. Pile on the 6 months of fertility treatments, the anxiety of not knowing if we were even going to be able to conceive children and if we did, how we would pay for them once they arrived and you can see what a harrowing year and a half it’s been. And the cause of ALL of that is lying in front of me howling away and not caring. He doesn’t seem to be sorry at all. If anything he should be comforting me. I know this all sounds heartless, but mothers have that maternal instinct. Fathers don’t. My wife has known this child much longer than I have. She’s felt him move. She knows his eating habits, when he’s sleeping and when he’s awake. She has been his personal Santa Claus. I have to learn how to be a father. And apparently I have to learn it right away because my wife is going to be out of commission for awhile as she recovers physically and mentally from a very invasive surgical procedure.
The next few days don’t get much better. I spend the entire week in the hospital room trying to sleep on a small cot that a prison would reject. The baby is awake every two hours of the night and I am still trying to find my way around a diaper. My wife has fallen into a serious post partum depression through the pain killing haze. Oh. And I’m suffering back spasms that would keep a professional athlete out of a championship game. And it’s all this 9 pound 21 inch “bundle of joy”s fault. When does the “you don’t just love your children, you fall IN love with them” thing start? Right now he’s just somebody I have to keep alive. Kind of like those bags of flour they give you for a week in high school Sociology class. Except I have my bag of flour for the rest of my life.
And then it happens. It’s the fourth day of his life. The doctor is about to perform a circumcision. My wife is still bed ridden so I am present at the “ceremony”. There’s a little bit of ritualism as my father in law recites a Hebrew prayer via cell phone. Since my wife and I are an interfaith couple, she being Jewish, I being Catholic and neither of us very good at being either one, we have decided to compromise on the Bris. No big party, but a nice prayer and coincidentally our doctor moonlights as a Moyle. So there we are in a small sterile room in the maternity ward, my son fast asleep and the doctor preparing to begin the procedure. The act itself is not something any grown man should have to witness so I stand back against the wall. I suddenly hear a wail from my son the likes of which I’ve never heard in the span of his short life. I’ve heard him cry pretty much nonstop for a week but this is different. This is a scream of pain. He’s in agony and he’s helpless against it. My boy. My poor, sweet little boy. I would do anything to take that pain away from him. In fact it was at that moment when I knew I would do everything within my power to keep him out of danger for as long as I’m alive. HEY! I think I’m in love. And then a week, nay, months of pent up emotions completely gives way and the levee breaks. I burst into tears and start shouting across the room, “It’s okay, buddy. Daddy’s here. It’ll be alright.” This time I mean it.
The week ended in love but started with indifference. 2 years and 4 months later I wish I knew then what I know now. I wish I could hop in my Way Back Machine and stand beside myself in the nursery that first day and whisper in my own ear, “Hang in there. You’re looking at a stranger now, but this little guy will soon be your best friend. He’s going to make you laugh harder than you have in years. When you have a bad day at work, he’ll run into your arms as soon as you get in the door and instantly make it better. He’ll look at you with awe and wonder. He’ll also laugh at everything you do and say and you can’t beat that. So take heart. This is the toughest week of both of your lives. It only gets better from here.” Unfortunately the 2006 me would probably turn and say, “I HAVEN’T SLEPT IN DAYS! YOU’RE OBVIOSULY A HALLUCINATION! BUZZ OFF, 2008 ME!” But still. At least I tried.
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
Parents Unite!
Face it, you are not the person that you used to be. Ever since you became a parent, you have a hard time recognizing yourself. Perhaps there is a bit of sadness because you’ve lost your own childishness, but there is no denying that you’ve developed a maturity that has absorbed itself into every fiber of your being. You’d been in love before, but when you children came along, this love encompassed you in a way that you never could have predicted. This metamorphosis might have even been painful for you, but only because the intensity of this love was so vast and unanticipated, perhaps even astonishing. Becoming a parent has driven you in ways you never thought possible. Parenthood has made you more devoted, more committed and more determined to succeed in providing for your family.
For some of you going back to work was never an option. For others, working for someone else to get that steady paycheck seemed like the only option. It doesn’t matter what kind of parent you became. We understand your devotion to your children and the intense fervor you feel to provide for them.
Our Milk Money is an Organization that was built for parents like you.
Our Milk Money is an online directory that lists only products and services sold by parents. But we are much more than just another business directory. We are an organization that provides a support network for parents who have chosen to stay home with their children, and we do what we can to encourage each of our members to make their purchases from each other- keep the money we are already spending "in house" because it's more valuable to families than it is to large corporations.
We believe that we have a chance to make a difference, but we must all work together.
Our concept will succeed if everyone does their part. No other group has taken on a task so great, and the reason WE WILL SUCCEED is because we all have one thing in common: Our devotion to our children. We must not fail them.
You don’t have to be a member, or even a parent to participate in this concept. If there are children in your life and you want to make a difference, we welcome you to take part in Our Milk Money. Link your site to us. http://www.ourmilkmoney.com/
We are not just another business trying to move up the ranks. We are an organization dedicated to parents who need support their children. If we all commit to this concept, we all have a better chance of rising up TOGETHER.
Imagine the possibilities.
We've started a campaign that will educate consumers on the value of purchasing from a mom or a dad. We believe that in time we will have created a mini-economy, and a better means of survival- especially during this recession where every dollar counts. We want parents to feel that they can make their own choices in how to raise their children, provide for them, and how much time they spend with them. Not be a slave to a job that promises a paycheck, or a boss that represents keeping that job.
Join the Our Milk Money Organization, and you will know immediately that you are contributing to a good cause, because it’s your own.
Find out more about Our Milk Money, and what we are doing to promote parent owned businesses everywhere.
Learn about Our Milk Money’s mission to empower parents and help them provide for their children.
Join us. http://www.ourmilkmoney.com/
For some of you going back to work was never an option. For others, working for someone else to get that steady paycheck seemed like the only option. It doesn’t matter what kind of parent you became. We understand your devotion to your children and the intense fervor you feel to provide for them.
Our Milk Money is an Organization that was built for parents like you.
Our Milk Money is an online directory that lists only products and services sold by parents. But we are much more than just another business directory. We are an organization that provides a support network for parents who have chosen to stay home with their children, and we do what we can to encourage each of our members to make their purchases from each other- keep the money we are already spending "in house" because it's more valuable to families than it is to large corporations.
We believe that we have a chance to make a difference, but we must all work together.
Our concept will succeed if everyone does their part. No other group has taken on a task so great, and the reason WE WILL SUCCEED is because we all have one thing in common: Our devotion to our children. We must not fail them.
You don’t have to be a member, or even a parent to participate in this concept. If there are children in your life and you want to make a difference, we welcome you to take part in Our Milk Money. Link your site to us. http://www.ourmilkmoney.com/
We are not just another business trying to move up the ranks. We are an organization dedicated to parents who need support their children. If we all commit to this concept, we all have a better chance of rising up TOGETHER.
Imagine the possibilities.
We've started a campaign that will educate consumers on the value of purchasing from a mom or a dad. We believe that in time we will have created a mini-economy, and a better means of survival- especially during this recession where every dollar counts. We want parents to feel that they can make their own choices in how to raise their children, provide for them, and how much time they spend with them. Not be a slave to a job that promises a paycheck, or a boss that represents keeping that job.
Join the Our Milk Money Organization, and you will know immediately that you are contributing to a good cause, because it’s your own.
Find out more about Our Milk Money, and what we are doing to promote parent owned businesses everywhere.
Learn about Our Milk Money’s mission to empower parents and help them provide for their children.
Join us. http://www.ourmilkmoney.com/
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
By Working Together We Are Empowering Ourselves!
There is going to be times where we lose the momentum and we forget what we were working for, but right now we have it, and we feel the energy from all of you. It’s feeding itself. We can see very clearly what we are able to accomplish. This takes everyone’s support. We are giving memberships for only $25 for the year, because right now your passion and excitement is worth more than any amount of money. We will lead you in anyway that helps you stay committed to the over all goal, and your faith in us keeps us accountable – so we thank you for that. We need you just as much as you need us. If everyone does there part, we will succeed as a team.
We’d like you to do what you can to adopt our philosophy and our way of thinking. In this virtual world of intra-personal communication, we need to believe that there is a force that binds us all together. I believe it’s the love we have for our children…because, let’s face it, none of knew this kind of love until we became parents. It changed everything about who we are as people and what is ultimately important in our short time on this planet. No matter what you personal goals are for your family, what kind of house you want to live in, the monetary limit you've put on yourself to feel successful, we all have our children in common, and no one should ever be able to tell us how much quality time we are able to give to our families. No one’s priorities are more important than yours and your children’s. Sometimes we get confused by what we have to give up in order to have the things we need for our families. “I need to keep working at this terrible job because it allows me to pay for food and clothes for my children.” Throw out that way of thinking! You are in charge of your achievements. You are not in this alone. There are others just like you who are passionate about a real network to give you the support you need. Your team won’t let you down, because you are one of us, we know that you won’t let us down. By helping others, you will be helping yourself. It is your responsibility to recognize the opportunities in which you can contribute, and act on them. Then you can trust and know for certain that when you are in need, someone will be there to help you, too. So many of you have already done exactly that, and we are incredibly grateful to have found you. You’ve told us how excited you are about our mission, you’ve put your faith in us by asking to be a part of a website that doesn’t even exist yet, you’ve written blogs about us, you’ve passed out our fliers, and you’ve referred new members to us. You wouldn’t believe how it’s transformed us, every little thing you have done for us, we’ve noticed and taken it to heart. We are more excited now than even the day we came up with the concept for ourmilkmoney. You helped us bring our idea to reality and we will never forget you for it. It’s the yin and yang, and the balance of the universe. We believe that we can create any environment that we want and the more positive it is, the more inspired we will all be.
You have already pushed us beyond what we thought was possible with ourmilkmoney, and because of that we can’t contain our excitement for what lies ahead…whatever that may be. We haven’t bound you to any contract, you don’t HAVE to contribute in anyway, but we trust that you’ll bring something to the table when the time is right. You believe in us, and we believe in you. That is what sets us apart from other organizations, and that is why we will succeed beyond anything else.
Help us to show the world that it is possible to belong to a network that is based on a common goal, and trust in each other. We know that we will be rewarded for our integrity and our commitment to our families and each other. Your success means our success. We can’t do this without a team. YOU are our team. Congratulations on becoming a part of something that matters and may shape the world into something we can be proud of giving our children.
We’d like you to do what you can to adopt our philosophy and our way of thinking. In this virtual world of intra-personal communication, we need to believe that there is a force that binds us all together. I believe it’s the love we have for our children…because, let’s face it, none of knew this kind of love until we became parents. It changed everything about who we are as people and what is ultimately important in our short time on this planet. No matter what you personal goals are for your family, what kind of house you want to live in, the monetary limit you've put on yourself to feel successful, we all have our children in common, and no one should ever be able to tell us how much quality time we are able to give to our families. No one’s priorities are more important than yours and your children’s. Sometimes we get confused by what we have to give up in order to have the things we need for our families. “I need to keep working at this terrible job because it allows me to pay for food and clothes for my children.” Throw out that way of thinking! You are in charge of your achievements. You are not in this alone. There are others just like you who are passionate about a real network to give you the support you need. Your team won’t let you down, because you are one of us, we know that you won’t let us down. By helping others, you will be helping yourself. It is your responsibility to recognize the opportunities in which you can contribute, and act on them. Then you can trust and know for certain that when you are in need, someone will be there to help you, too. So many of you have already done exactly that, and we are incredibly grateful to have found you. You’ve told us how excited you are about our mission, you’ve put your faith in us by asking to be a part of a website that doesn’t even exist yet, you’ve written blogs about us, you’ve passed out our fliers, and you’ve referred new members to us. You wouldn’t believe how it’s transformed us, every little thing you have done for us, we’ve noticed and taken it to heart. We are more excited now than even the day we came up with the concept for ourmilkmoney. You helped us bring our idea to reality and we will never forget you for it. It’s the yin and yang, and the balance of the universe. We believe that we can create any environment that we want and the more positive it is, the more inspired we will all be.
You have already pushed us beyond what we thought was possible with ourmilkmoney, and because of that we can’t contain our excitement for what lies ahead…whatever that may be. We haven’t bound you to any contract, you don’t HAVE to contribute in anyway, but we trust that you’ll bring something to the table when the time is right. You believe in us, and we believe in you. That is what sets us apart from other organizations, and that is why we will succeed beyond anything else.
Help us to show the world that it is possible to belong to a network that is based on a common goal, and trust in each other. We know that we will be rewarded for our integrity and our commitment to our families and each other. Your success means our success. We can’t do this without a team. YOU are our team. Congratulations on becoming a part of something that matters and may shape the world into something we can be proud of giving our children.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
I saw the Sex and the City movie…alone.
Wait, wait wait. Let me explain. Yes, I am guilty as charged. I saw the chickiest of chick flicks by myself….on purpose. But before you cancel my “guy” club membership and make me hand over my remote control, allow me to explain. First of all this is still a daddy’s blog so I’m writing primarily to the guys not the girls. I’m sure the girls think its sweet and have no problem with this confession at all. Okay fine. Thank you ladies, but with all due respect don’t help me. You’re not my target audience. Secondly this is not my clever way of coming out of the closet and revealing my true self to my family in McGreevey-esque fashion. While certainly far from an alpha male, I still consider myself a guy’s guy…but not a guy’s guy if you know what I mean. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.
I admit that I was a fan of the Sex and the City HBO series. Call it a (very) guilty pleasure. My wife became a fan within the first couple of seasons and kept trying to get me to watch with her, but I refused wholly on principle. However by the third season I finally acquiesced. And what started as reluctance became a genuine enjoyment of the show. Decent acting, good story lines and character development, and some downright funny dialogue. And while I didn’t immediately bring up Carrie and Aidan’s breakup at the water cooler the next day, I was definitely drawn into the arcs of the characters. In fact I would go so far to say that it strengthened my relationship with my wife. No, no, really. NO, I AM NOT MAKING EXCUSES! My wife and I would watch and when a certain conflict or drama would erupt in one of the girls’ and their many men’s lives, I would turn to my wife and say, “Here’s why she’s wrong” or “Okay. Yes. That guy’s a jerk”, or “uhhh….I’m kinda on his side. Is that okay?” The show would kick off some pretty decent marital dialogue between us and sometimes I was even right! If given a chance, the show is a good study of relationships not only from the woman’s perspective but from the man’s as well. For the record I still like The Sopranos better.
So when the trailers for the long awaited Sex and the City movie started to appear I thought, “It’s not a movie I’m dying to see but my wife is constantly chastising me for not taking her to see ‘her’ kind of movies (i.e. chick flicks) so here is the perfect opportunity.” Then my wife saw it without me. Was I devastated? No. In fact I was almost relieved. Now I would be spared the inevitable ribbing from the boys at work that I would have had to take like a man. A Sex and the City-loving man. But I was a little disappointed. I just assumed that my wife would want to see it with only me. I mean it was our “thing”. The plan was to take her to the movie, share eye rolls with the other guys who were dragged there by their girlfriends or wives, and then secretly enjoy myself. But she saw it with some friends and came home bursting to discuss it with me. Just like old times. I told her she would have to wait a few months until I Netflixed it because there was NO WAY I was going to see it in the theatres now. Sorry, hon. You should have thought of that before you went to see it with a bunch of bimbos you just met.
Cut to last week. I was in Phoenix, my wife’s hometown. Phoenix in June means you better have some inside activities planned. I was bored. My son was napping, my wife was working and I had the choice of either going to a movie or hanging out with my mother in law. I ran for the car without checking showtimes or directions to the nearest Cineplex. (Just kidding, Mom. Love you) When I got to the theatre, my choices were slim. I had already seen the current blockbusters. My only choices were Sex and the City, Kung Fu Panda and Speed Racer. The theatre stubbornly refused to pay me to see Speed Racer. Since Kung Fu Panda was a Dreamworks animated film, seeing that movie would have put my status as a Disney company boy in serious jeopardy especially since WALL-E was about to open (playing NOW at a theatre near you!) That left me no choice. I sighed, looked around me like some kind of KGB spy and whispered “one for Sex and the City” to the unbelievably old woman at the ticket counter (this detail adds nothing to the story but I was truly amazed at how old this woman was). I got my ticket, left my male genitalia at the door and walked inside. Luckily the previews had started so the lights were down and I could find my seat incognito. I glanced around at my fellow viewers. The theatre was pretty empty being a Thursday matinee. A few old ladies and some fortysomething mothers. I was the only guy. I didn’t even see any gay guys. Then again I was in Phoenix so that’s no big shock. About halfway through the movie a fat old guy walked in and sat down. I was thrilled. He stayed for about three minutes, realized his mistake and walked out grunting. A single tear blazed a trail down my face.
The movie itself? It was fine. That’s all I can say. I didn’t hate it. I’ll give it a B. It was definitely targeted for women. I could have done without all of the fashion montages over the “girl power” dance music and I wanted to claw my eyes out during the slow motion naked guy shower scene, but the acting and the plot was pretty good. While it wasn’t as funny as I would have liked there were some good puns (“Mexi-coma”, “Poughkeepsie-d in her pants”). However I found that I can only take that show in half hour spurts. This was over two hours. Too much for any guy, I don’t care how in touch with your feminine side you are. But my biggest problem had nothing to do with the movie. I missed my Sex and the City buddy. I found myself relating to and agreeing with the guys in the movie once again. This time however I had no one to turn to and whisper, “He’s right y’know” In fact I related to one of the story lines a little too well and when it was resolved and the happy couple walked into the sunset, the only hand I could hold was my own. So the Sex and the City movie definitely required a team effort. No one should have to go through it alone. Just like running a stay at home business and raising a family at the same time. It’s definitely a team effort. But that’s a topic for a future blog. And looking back at this whole experience I couldn’t help but wonder: would it really have been THAT bad to see Kung Fu Panda?
By the way when I knew the movie was about to end I slinked out of the theatre, bought a 6 pack of Corona and raced home to watch game 4 of the NBA Finals just to flush the “chick” out of my system.
I admit that I was a fan of the Sex and the City HBO series. Call it a (very) guilty pleasure. My wife became a fan within the first couple of seasons and kept trying to get me to watch with her, but I refused wholly on principle. However by the third season I finally acquiesced. And what started as reluctance became a genuine enjoyment of the show. Decent acting, good story lines and character development, and some downright funny dialogue. And while I didn’t immediately bring up Carrie and Aidan’s breakup at the water cooler the next day, I was definitely drawn into the arcs of the characters. In fact I would go so far to say that it strengthened my relationship with my wife. No, no, really. NO, I AM NOT MAKING EXCUSES! My wife and I would watch and when a certain conflict or drama would erupt in one of the girls’ and their many men’s lives, I would turn to my wife and say, “Here’s why she’s wrong” or “Okay. Yes. That guy’s a jerk”, or “uhhh….I’m kinda on his side. Is that okay?” The show would kick off some pretty decent marital dialogue between us and sometimes I was even right! If given a chance, the show is a good study of relationships not only from the woman’s perspective but from the man’s as well. For the record I still like The Sopranos better.
So when the trailers for the long awaited Sex and the City movie started to appear I thought, “It’s not a movie I’m dying to see but my wife is constantly chastising me for not taking her to see ‘her’ kind of movies (i.e. chick flicks) so here is the perfect opportunity.” Then my wife saw it without me. Was I devastated? No. In fact I was almost relieved. Now I would be spared the inevitable ribbing from the boys at work that I would have had to take like a man. A Sex and the City-loving man. But I was a little disappointed. I just assumed that my wife would want to see it with only me. I mean it was our “thing”. The plan was to take her to the movie, share eye rolls with the other guys who were dragged there by their girlfriends or wives, and then secretly enjoy myself. But she saw it with some friends and came home bursting to discuss it with me. Just like old times. I told her she would have to wait a few months until I Netflixed it because there was NO WAY I was going to see it in the theatres now. Sorry, hon. You should have thought of that before you went to see it with a bunch of bimbos you just met.
Cut to last week. I was in Phoenix, my wife’s hometown. Phoenix in June means you better have some inside activities planned. I was bored. My son was napping, my wife was working and I had the choice of either going to a movie or hanging out with my mother in law. I ran for the car without checking showtimes or directions to the nearest Cineplex. (Just kidding, Mom. Love you) When I got to the theatre, my choices were slim. I had already seen the current blockbusters. My only choices were Sex and the City, Kung Fu Panda and Speed Racer. The theatre stubbornly refused to pay me to see Speed Racer. Since Kung Fu Panda was a Dreamworks animated film, seeing that movie would have put my status as a Disney company boy in serious jeopardy especially since WALL-E was about to open (playing NOW at a theatre near you!) That left me no choice. I sighed, looked around me like some kind of KGB spy and whispered “one for Sex and the City” to the unbelievably old woman at the ticket counter (this detail adds nothing to the story but I was truly amazed at how old this woman was). I got my ticket, left my male genitalia at the door and walked inside. Luckily the previews had started so the lights were down and I could find my seat incognito. I glanced around at my fellow viewers. The theatre was pretty empty being a Thursday matinee. A few old ladies and some fortysomething mothers. I was the only guy. I didn’t even see any gay guys. Then again I was in Phoenix so that’s no big shock. About halfway through the movie a fat old guy walked in and sat down. I was thrilled. He stayed for about three minutes, realized his mistake and walked out grunting. A single tear blazed a trail down my face.
The movie itself? It was fine. That’s all I can say. I didn’t hate it. I’ll give it a B. It was definitely targeted for women. I could have done without all of the fashion montages over the “girl power” dance music and I wanted to claw my eyes out during the slow motion naked guy shower scene, but the acting and the plot was pretty good. While it wasn’t as funny as I would have liked there were some good puns (“Mexi-coma”, “Poughkeepsie-d in her pants”). However I found that I can only take that show in half hour spurts. This was over two hours. Too much for any guy, I don’t care how in touch with your feminine side you are. But my biggest problem had nothing to do with the movie. I missed my Sex and the City buddy. I found myself relating to and agreeing with the guys in the movie once again. This time however I had no one to turn to and whisper, “He’s right y’know” In fact I related to one of the story lines a little too well and when it was resolved and the happy couple walked into the sunset, the only hand I could hold was my own. So the Sex and the City movie definitely required a team effort. No one should have to go through it alone. Just like running a stay at home business and raising a family at the same time. It’s definitely a team effort. But that’s a topic for a future blog. And looking back at this whole experience I couldn’t help but wonder: would it really have been THAT bad to see Kung Fu Panda?
By the way when I knew the movie was about to end I slinked out of the theatre, bought a 6 pack of Corona and raced home to watch game 4 of the NBA Finals just to flush the “chick” out of my system.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
No matter what tomorrow may bring, I will remain grateful.
I am grateful to have a roof over my head.
I am grateful that we have 2 cars, and even if they are older than the city we live in, we no longer have payments, and we somehow they always get us from point A to point B.
I am grateful for who I am, and who I’ve become over the years, and the road I took to get here, no matter how treacherous it may have seemed at the time.
I am grateful for my 2 year old son, who took 2 years to be conceived.
I am grateful for those 2 years of trying to conceive, because if it was any easier, I might not appreciate every moment I have with him the way I do now.
I am grateful that I am able to be my own boss, and to never have to make someone else’s priorities more important than my own ever again.
I am grateful that I am able to share my experiences to benefit others, and I am grateful for those who continue to share their experiences with me.
I am grateful for the friendships I’ve made through the years. Although some friends have come and gone, I’ve learned amazing things from each unique soul that I am happy to never forget.
I am grateful that my husband supports my need to stay at home with our son, even though it meant giving up my once very large corporate salary.
I am grateful to see how my son has flourished since I came home to take care of him.
I am grateful for the internet, for it has allowed me to connect with so many others just like me who want great things for their children.
I am grateful to have met so many wonderful parents across the country who believe in my mission, have joined me in this ambition, and are willing to give what they can to make a difference.
I am grateful that I am imperfect, because learning is half the fun, and each day I am able to grow wiser and more knowledgeable.
I am grateful for my health and the health of my friends and family. Even when we are sick, we find ways to heal, and each illness makes us stronger.
But most of all, I am grateful for the life I have yet to live, for each day brings new lessons, new reasons to laugh and cry, and new insights to the mystery of my purpose on earth.
I am grateful that we have 2 cars, and even if they are older than the city we live in, we no longer have payments, and we somehow they always get us from point A to point B.
I am grateful for who I am, and who I’ve become over the years, and the road I took to get here, no matter how treacherous it may have seemed at the time.
I am grateful for my 2 year old son, who took 2 years to be conceived.
I am grateful for those 2 years of trying to conceive, because if it was any easier, I might not appreciate every moment I have with him the way I do now.
I am grateful that I am able to be my own boss, and to never have to make someone else’s priorities more important than my own ever again.
I am grateful that I am able to share my experiences to benefit others, and I am grateful for those who continue to share their experiences with me.
I am grateful for the friendships I’ve made through the years. Although some friends have come and gone, I’ve learned amazing things from each unique soul that I am happy to never forget.
I am grateful that my husband supports my need to stay at home with our son, even though it meant giving up my once very large corporate salary.
I am grateful to see how my son has flourished since I came home to take care of him.
I am grateful for the internet, for it has allowed me to connect with so many others just like me who want great things for their children.
I am grateful to have met so many wonderful parents across the country who believe in my mission, have joined me in this ambition, and are willing to give what they can to make a difference.
I am grateful that I am imperfect, because learning is half the fun, and each day I am able to grow wiser and more knowledgeable.
I am grateful for my health and the health of my friends and family. Even when we are sick, we find ways to heal, and each illness makes us stronger.
But most of all, I am grateful for the life I have yet to live, for each day brings new lessons, new reasons to laugh and cry, and new insights to the mystery of my purpose on earth.
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
The Family That Laughs Together, Stays Together *
* Blogger’s note: Due to the graphic nature of the following story and the family nature of this website, please note that throughout the blog, the word “laugh” and it’s uses will be used to represent the word “vomit.”
Ever had a stomach virus? For those that have, you may skip this next paragraph as I would hate to conjure painful flashbacks. For those that have not yet had the pleasure, let me describe a bout with a stomach virus. Imagine the worst 48 hours of your life. There. That’s pretty much it. Imagine dying of thirst, but not being able to drink even water because you can’t hold any liquids down. Imagine setting up a makeshift bed on the bathroom floor tile because there’s no real point in leaving the room where you’ll be spending most of the night plus you can’t waste precious seconds running all the way from your bedroom. Imagine involuntary chills, but a temperature of 102. Imagine if a genie appeared to you and said, “What is your wish, master?” and you unhesitant in your joyous answer, “Genie, kill me. I wish for death. Make it swift, but make it happen.” Of course this would be a strategic error because you could probably just as easily wish for the stomach virus to go away and still enjoy the rest of your life.
The TODDLER was taking a late afternoon nap when he laughed *(see above note) for the first time that Saturday. As adults when it comes to the unpleasant but inevitable task of laughing, we are experienced enough to run to the bathroom commode, laugh it up and flush it down. Toddlers can’t get to the bathroom so they just laugh and laugh. And man, there’s nothing more unpleasant than cleaning up projectile laughter. You find laughter in places that seem impossible. The TODDLER wasn’t done though. He began laughing every 15 minutes. The poor little guy was miserable. He didn’t understand what was happening. He only understood that he wanted it to stop. Every time he felt the laughter start to rise he would whine a meager, “No. No. Done. Done” as if to reason with his stomach that he was no longer enjoying this thank you very much. A doctor was called and prescribed an anti-nausea medication. Since it was after 6:00 on a Saturday evening, the prescription was called into an all night pharmacy. It was in the next town over and about a 15 minute drive. The FATHER raced over only to find that the all night pharmacy was closed from 7 PM to 7 AM that particular night due to “unforseen circumstances”. Of course it was. Upon arriving back at home empty handed the FATHER discovered that the TODDLER had been laughing in his own room, giggling in his parents’ bed, chortling in the hallway, and guffawing everywhere else. The MOTHER and FATHER would try to put a bucket in front of him, but the TODDLER began to associate that action with laughing and would push it away in hopes that it would stave off the next joke. Of course it didn’t and only made things quite a bit messier. Carpets needed to be scrubbed. The TODDLER’s bedsheets were soon soaking in the bathtub in an attempt to save them for future use. An attempt that would prove futile. The MOTHER and FATHER’s bedsheets were thrown into a washing machine that was about to have a very long night.
The FAMILY rushed to the Emergency Room of the nearest hospital. The title “emergency room” is one of those oxymorons like “jumbo shrimp” or “holy war”. Nothing about that place moves at the pace that emergencies should. And if you ever feel depressed because you’re sitting home on a Saturday night, take a walk over to your local emergency room. After spending 5 minutes in the packed waiting room of miserable, injured, and sick people, you’ll walk out feeling like a million bucks happily returning to your boring but healthy Saturday night at home. The FAMILY arrived at 9:00 and was seen at midnight. The TODDLER was given some medication that actually seemed to help. He stopped laughing long enough to hold down some liquids. The little guy was exhausted from his 6 hour ordeal however. The doctor looked at the PARENTS and said, “It’s so sad isn’t it? You just wish it was you going through it rather than him, don’t you?” Stupidly the FATHER agreed. And the irony began. When the FATHER turned to the MOTHER, he noticed that her face had gone deathly pale. She looked at him and said, “I don’t believe this. I’m about to start laughing.” She excused herself and went off to find a ladies room to chuckle in private. It was like the end of The Exorcist. The TODDLER was no longer possessed, but the evil spirits had hopped over to the nearest warm body. The hospital prescribed an anti-nausea medication (the same one the doctor had prescribed over the phone 5 hours before) and released the FAMILY. The pale MOTHER and recovering TODDLER headed out to the parking lot while the FATHER settled the bill. As he was filling out the paperwork, he suddenly felt the blood completely leave his face like the tide rushing out to sea just before a massive tidal wave. He felt his mouth go dry and his hands go clammy. You’ve got to be kidding me. The clerk handed his insurance card back and said cheerily,”You’re all set. Good night!” The FATHER grunted something incomprehensible and pondered turning right to the bathroom or left to the parking lot. Being the good father that he was, he decided to get his sick wife and baby home. He walked out to the car where the MOTHER was already in the driver’s seat. He was trying to talk himself out of laughing until he arrived home. No such luck. Things were just too funny on this night. The car was barely moving when the window was rolled down and the FATHER shared a joke with the parking lot. And then there were three…
Upon arrival home, the MOTHER and TODDLER wearily climbed into the master bed which was now a bare mattress with a bare comforter. The TODDLER quickly fell asleep while the MOTHER made a few more trips to the bathroom. The MOTHER and FATHER debated getting the prescription filled immediately or waiting until morning. The MOTHER reasoned that there would be no sleep without some form of medication. The FATHER reluctantly agreed, climbed into the car that didn’t have remnants of laughter all over the passenger door, and headed out to the other all night pharmacy which coincidentally was in the strip mall across the street from the previous all night pharmacy. This begs the question: what’s wrong with the inhabitants of this town that they need two all night pharmacies within fifty yards of each other? The FATHER felt queasy and exhausted, but was proud of his heroic efforts to take care of his family at 2:30 AM. In fact he felt downright thirsty. And he remembered that as a small boy, his mother always let him have Coke to help his upset stomach. So he picked up a bottle on his way out of the pharmacy. But always mindful of his weight, he settled for Diet Coke. Now this was stupid because A. he had probably dropped a pound or two anyway in the last couple of hours; B. the sweet coke syrup not found in Diet Coke was what helped upset stomachs and C. sipping the Diet Coke was probably the way to go rather than gulping half of the 20 ounce bottle in one swig. Needless to say the FATHER was halfway home when he felt the urge to cackle which quickly turned into a strong urge to hoot and holler. Having no time to pull over he rolled down the window and leaned out while acrobatically keeping the car straight. Now this was also stupid because if he had paid attention in Physics class he would know that expelling an object out of a vehicle moving 50 miles per hour would just bring said object right back into the vehicle at an equal velocity…or something like that. The joke was now on the FATHER not to mention the front seat of his car. Laughter: 2 Family Cars: 0. Had anybody been witness to this pathetic display, they would have seen a grown man driving a car down the highway screaming,
”AHHHHHHH! AHHHHHH! OH MY GOOOOODDD!!!!” Upon arrival at home, the FATHER quickly undressed and threw his clothes into the overworked washing machine. He jumped into the shower, scrubbed himself with the ferocity of an obsessive compulsive, toweled off, gave a pill to the MOTHER and took one for himself. He then staggered into bed and the family enjoyed a restless sleep for 2 hours.
The next two days were spent alternately on the couch and the bed. Frequent trips were made to the bathroom by both the MOTHER and the FATHER. The TODDLER was thankfully good as new and couldn’t understand why his parents didn’t enjoy it when he gleefully climbed all over them or jumped on their heads and why they remained in bed moaning all day. The MOTHER and FATHER were actually grateful that the TODDLER felt better. It would have been impossible to take care of him in this state. The FAMILY eventually recovered and actually relished in the weight loss. But they never will forget the night of 1000 Laughs.
So why do I recount this graphic tale that at times crosses the line of over sharing? Because looking back, it was a 72 hour period of time that can only be endured by people who truly love each other. Never has the term “for better or worse, in sickness and in health” been put to the test more. Because nothing says happy family like a night filled with laughter.
Sunday, May 4, 2008
You Can't Have a Rainbow without First Having a Storm (Part 2)
The storm did stop, but it rained on and off for a few weeks after that- the kind of drizzle that makes you feel like you can’t get out and accomplish anything, and the moment you try, it’s such a big dramatic event, you decide not to attempt it again until there is the slightest bit of sun poking through the sky. These dark and dreary days were the days I realized I was turning into a hermit in my house. There was only so much conversation I could have with my 15 month old, the house was cleaner than a hospital and my laundry had been folded and sorted by color 15 times since breakfast, and it was only noon. I was bored. I didn’t miss work, and the stress of leaving my son in that awful daycare, or the boss who wouldn’t let me leave 30 minutes early to go pick him up. But I did miss my friends. I missed the excitement of the day to day, and the gossip, which surrounded me on a daily basis working at a network television studio.
I needed friends. Although I had lived in my house for 4 years, I’d been commuting into the city for work, and my social life. I didn’t know a single person in my community.
I decided to join a play group. As selfish as this may sound, this group was more for me than for my son, and with every outing we made, you could probably tell how desperate I was.
You would have thought I was a teenager starting in a new highchool mid semester. Every day I woke up excited of all the possibilities.
I spent time researching our local paper and internet for activities and made a list of all the things we would attend together. Every morning I got us both dressed in our cutest baby and mommy outfits, paying extra attention to details such as dressing down enough to be the perfect stay at home mom, while applying my make-up flawlessly and practicing my “friendly smile” in the rearview mirror while in the car in route.
Although the rain and stopped, the clouds were still following me around as I desperately tried to attach myself to a group that I could connect with. I was still used to my friends and colleagues at work, the artsy entertainment folk, most of whom didn’t have kids, or if they did, left the raising of them to a nanny or a relative. Perhaps I seemed too eager to make friends. I’d sit in the mommy and me groups participating, singing, laughing, commenting on the other children, and rarely got much response from the other moms. I imagined them going home together, getting on their cell phones and laughing about the “new mom” who was obviously trying to hard. Perhaps I’d seen too many movies and TV shows about Desperate Homemakers, but since I wasn’t yet at ease in this new culture, those fictional stories were all I had to draw from.
I began to wonder if I’d been living in a vacuum for 4 years, and since I’d been commuting, I hadn’t noticed the zombies that were living next door. I couldn’t imagine myself ever being this cold to another human being. No matter what group I belonged to, I’d always made the newcomer feel welcome, and most of the people I’d known up until this point all would have done the same. What was wrong with these people? Did the koolade in this town turn stay-at-home moms into Babylonians? Would I eventually become one of them? I imagine a modern day version of Stepford Wives, except that our only form or communicating with one another was singing, “Come on everybody it’s parachute time” to the tune of “the wheels on the bus go round and round.”
Everyday while getting my infant son and I ready for the day, I’d remind him, “today, we are going to go out and make some friends today!” I was determined. Finally after 2 very long months of wondering if I’d ever fit in to any of the mom groups, I broke down and asked one of the teachers at a Mommy and Me class we’d been attending. Actually, it was just after she approached me to thank me for always being so smiley, upbeat, and participating in all the songs and activities, despite the obvious fact that I was being so rudely ignored. I hugged the teacher her with such relief and thanked her for noticing what a struggle it had been for me to fit in! “Please,” I whispered, “Tell me where all the ‘cool’ moms are!” She put her arm around me and said, “you didn’t hear this from me. Show up to the music class 9:30am on Friday.” It was as if I was getting a secret tip in Vegas to take part in an underground operation. I was so excited I could hardly wait.
Friday arrived, and I discovered exactly what I’d been looking for. A group of women just like me- just my age, first time moms, incredibly happy to be right where they were in their lives, and thrilled that I wanted to “play” with them. That day, the sun burned through the clouds for good. And it didn’t rain for the rest of the summer. Now, when it does rain, I have a nice cozy group of mommy friends to spend time with, and our kids all get along great too. This rainbow was definitely worth the storm that created it.
I needed friends. Although I had lived in my house for 4 years, I’d been commuting into the city for work, and my social life. I didn’t know a single person in my community.
I decided to join a play group. As selfish as this may sound, this group was more for me than for my son, and with every outing we made, you could probably tell how desperate I was.
You would have thought I was a teenager starting in a new highchool mid semester. Every day I woke up excited of all the possibilities.
I spent time researching our local paper and internet for activities and made a list of all the things we would attend together. Every morning I got us both dressed in our cutest baby and mommy outfits, paying extra attention to details such as dressing down enough to be the perfect stay at home mom, while applying my make-up flawlessly and practicing my “friendly smile” in the rearview mirror while in the car in route.
Although the rain and stopped, the clouds were still following me around as I desperately tried to attach myself to a group that I could connect with. I was still used to my friends and colleagues at work, the artsy entertainment folk, most of whom didn’t have kids, or if they did, left the raising of them to a nanny or a relative. Perhaps I seemed too eager to make friends. I’d sit in the mommy and me groups participating, singing, laughing, commenting on the other children, and rarely got much response from the other moms. I imagined them going home together, getting on their cell phones and laughing about the “new mom” who was obviously trying to hard. Perhaps I’d seen too many movies and TV shows about Desperate Homemakers, but since I wasn’t yet at ease in this new culture, those fictional stories were all I had to draw from.
I began to wonder if I’d been living in a vacuum for 4 years, and since I’d been commuting, I hadn’t noticed the zombies that were living next door. I couldn’t imagine myself ever being this cold to another human being. No matter what group I belonged to, I’d always made the newcomer feel welcome, and most of the people I’d known up until this point all would have done the same. What was wrong with these people? Did the koolade in this town turn stay-at-home moms into Babylonians? Would I eventually become one of them? I imagine a modern day version of Stepford Wives, except that our only form or communicating with one another was singing, “Come on everybody it’s parachute time” to the tune of “the wheels on the bus go round and round.”
Everyday while getting my infant son and I ready for the day, I’d remind him, “today, we are going to go out and make some friends today!” I was determined. Finally after 2 very long months of wondering if I’d ever fit in to any of the mom groups, I broke down and asked one of the teachers at a Mommy and Me class we’d been attending. Actually, it was just after she approached me to thank me for always being so smiley, upbeat, and participating in all the songs and activities, despite the obvious fact that I was being so rudely ignored. I hugged the teacher her with such relief and thanked her for noticing what a struggle it had been for me to fit in! “Please,” I whispered, “Tell me where all the ‘cool’ moms are!” She put her arm around me and said, “you didn’t hear this from me. Show up to the music class 9:30am on Friday.” It was as if I was getting a secret tip in Vegas to take part in an underground operation. I was so excited I could hardly wait.
Friday arrived, and I discovered exactly what I’d been looking for. A group of women just like me- just my age, first time moms, incredibly happy to be right where they were in their lives, and thrilled that I wanted to “play” with them. That day, the sun burned through the clouds for good. And it didn’t rain for the rest of the summer. Now, when it does rain, I have a nice cozy group of mommy friends to spend time with, and our kids all get along great too. This rainbow was definitely worth the storm that created it.
You Can't Have a Rainbow without First Having a Storm
Becoming a stay at home parent is like culture shock. At least, I believe it is after you’ve already been a working parent in the corporate world. Had I gone straight to staying at home when my maternity leave was over, it may have been easier to adjust, but for me, it was culture shock.
Culture shock isn’t such a bad thing. We adjust, we always adjust, and most of the time we realize AFTER the adjustment period that every electric zap to our system, no matter how painful, was worth it. Infact, I am beginning to see after everything I’ve experienced in the past 3 years, that in order to reach a cleaner and clearer destination you have to wade through waters of muck and filth. I like to call it the storm before the rainbow. I’ve been using that analogy very often these past few years.
We had a “storm” before the rainbow while trying to conceive my son. You can read about my husband’s perspective here.
Culture shock isn’t such a bad thing. We adjust, we always adjust, and most of the time we realize AFTER the adjustment period that every electric zap to our system, no matter how painful, was worth it. Infact, I am beginning to see after everything I’ve experienced in the past 3 years, that in order to reach a cleaner and clearer destination you have to wade through waters of muck and filth. I like to call it the storm before the rainbow. I’ve been using that analogy very often these past few years.
We had a “storm” before the rainbow while trying to conceive my son. You can read about my husband’s perspective here.
There was a storm when I and found a less than warm welcome back to work upon my return from maternity leave, but then the rainbow appeared as I got back into the swing of things and was recruited to a new department.
There was a new storm when my new department laid off our entire team just 2 weeks after recruiting me. The wind and rain were fierce with fear and horror as we tried to figure out how to exist without my corporate income, and once we realized we could subtract daycare expenses, and survive on severance and unemployment, the rainbow emerged.
I had a #$^(*$ storm when I started my stay at home status and realized I didn’t know how to care for my child because the terrible daycare I had him in refused to tell me anything about the details of his day, his schedule, what he ate, or when he slept. That was much like going through a 2nd post-partum. My husband received many panicked calls from me that first week sobbing, “We should just give him back to them. I can’t even take care of my son as well as that awful daycare.”
What I didn’t realize is that the rainbow had already begun to form. As the days wore on, I began to settle into this new culture. It began to fit me so well, I wondered if I ever truly fit into the old culture of being a working mom. My son and I began to bond more than ever, and I was amazed at how he began flourishing. He never battled me on nap time, and it almost seemed as if he was happy to go down, knowing that I would be there when he woke up. My husband came home to a full cooked meal every night, a refrigerator filled with food, and his laundry done. So the only thing left for him to do was spend quality time with us until bedtime.
This was the culture I belonged to, and I decided that I was going to stay. The rainbow that has filled our lives has burned so brightly since then, that no storm has every come close to washing it away since then. I wonder sometimes if others have this same rainbow in their lives, but they forget to notice it because it’s always been there. Or maybe, there truly does need to be a storm sometimes before the rainbow can exist. If we hadn’t struggled to get where we are now, how would we know that it’s better over here? It’s times like these that I am glad for the dark times, as much I am the bright sunny ones.
There was a new storm when my new department laid off our entire team just 2 weeks after recruiting me. The wind and rain were fierce with fear and horror as we tried to figure out how to exist without my corporate income, and once we realized we could subtract daycare expenses, and survive on severance and unemployment, the rainbow emerged.
I had a #$^(*$ storm when I started my stay at home status and realized I didn’t know how to care for my child because the terrible daycare I had him in refused to tell me anything about the details of his day, his schedule, what he ate, or when he slept. That was much like going through a 2nd post-partum. My husband received many panicked calls from me that first week sobbing, “We should just give him back to them. I can’t even take care of my son as well as that awful daycare.”
What I didn’t realize is that the rainbow had already begun to form. As the days wore on, I began to settle into this new culture. It began to fit me so well, I wondered if I ever truly fit into the old culture of being a working mom. My son and I began to bond more than ever, and I was amazed at how he began flourishing. He never battled me on nap time, and it almost seemed as if he was happy to go down, knowing that I would be there when he woke up. My husband came home to a full cooked meal every night, a refrigerator filled with food, and his laundry done. So the only thing left for him to do was spend quality time with us until bedtime.
This was the culture I belonged to, and I decided that I was going to stay. The rainbow that has filled our lives has burned so brightly since then, that no storm has every come close to washing it away since then. I wonder sometimes if others have this same rainbow in their lives, but they forget to notice it because it’s always been there. Or maybe, there truly does need to be a storm sometimes before the rainbow can exist. If we hadn’t struggled to get where we are now, how would we know that it’s better over here? It’s times like these that I am glad for the dark times, as much I am the bright sunny ones.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Tell your Daddy
Who speaks for the Dad? Seriously. Think about it. Chris Rock has a great routine about this subject. It goes something like this. Kids are always being told “Tell your mama how good this dinner is.” “Tell your mama how pretty she looks.” You better tell your mama you’re sorry”, “Tell your mama.” Tell your mama” TELL YOUR MAMA” When does daddy get a shout out? Wouldn’t it be nice to hear, ”Hey, daddy! Thanks for knocking out this rent!”, “Hey daddy! It sure is easy to read with all this light!” What does daddy get? All he gets is the big piece of chicken at dinnertime. Now obviously it’s a lot funnier when Chris Rock performs it, but that routine is dead on. From conception through pregnancy, from the birth of our kids through…uh…well…the death of us, we fathers must learn to cope with the biggest change of our lives pretty much on our own. Not to say that the mothers don’t have a lot to deal with as well (if not more) but there are blogs, support groups and books aplenty to help the mommies get through it. But except for an 80’s movie starring Michael Keaton and a few Bill Cosby routines, the plight of the father is often overlooked. A comedian buddy of mine just wrote a handbook for the new father. If and when it gets published I’m sure you’ll see it advertised on this site. After reading just the book proposal I was amazed at the similarities with my experiences of the last two years and nine months. I found myself wondering if my friend had somehow extracted my memories with some weird science fiction machine and was just writing my story. In fact the title of the book, “My Life Is Over” were the exact words I said to my boss the day before my son was born. Anyway I realized that if my friend had these thoughts, and I had these thoughts, there were A LOT of guys out there who had these thoughts. And it was time to speak up for them. And what better place to speak for them then a website…created by two stay at home moms?? SEE WHAT I MEAN? THIS IS WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT!
My wife, Ally, thought of this great concept last year. A website to help stay at home moms. She and her business partner, Kelli, came up with the name “Our Milk Money” I told them to call it “Our Milf Money”, but they thought that might attract the wrong target audience. Can’t say I blame her. Anyway they soon realized (and rightly so) that for every self employed mom out there, there’s a self employed dad also trying to eke out a living while trying to raise a family at the same time. In fact in my opinion the self employed father needs this kind of website the most because we as men tend to put the pressure on ourselves of being the sole provider and breadwinner of the family. This goes back to the beginnings of civilization (stupid, lousy hunter-gatherer cavemen.) I guess it all depends on the family situation. For instance while I am the breadwinner of my family, I am just the opposite of self employed. You can’t get more corporate than me. I work for The Walt Disney Company, one of the biggest corporate machines in the world. In fact I have to go back and examine that last sentence to make sure I’m not being slanderous and thereby subject to a possible lawsuit. OH YES THEY WOULD! However even though I am the “breadwinner”, the bread I’m winning is wet and moldy because I am below middle management at the House of the Mouse which means I probably make less money than you. I know I don’t know you, but trust me on this one. So hi everybody. I’m Chris. Ally and Kelli have asked me to start up this little daddy corner to make sure that the voice of the dad can be heard. Because it’s important that everybody involved with Our Milk Money whether merchant, shopper, or curious visitor knows that this is not just a website for moms. It’s a website for all self employed parents. And everybody should be represented. Well I’m here to represent you, daddies. REPRESENT! Word! Fo-shizzle! Okay I promise never to do that again. I’m just trying to tell you that you’re not alone. I’ll share my stories, hopes, fears, dreams, triumphs and disappointments of being a father. I already have plenty of each category and my son isn’t even two years old yet. Maybe together, we can see this thing called fatherhood through. I’ll leave you with two quotes. The first quote is on a T-shirt that my own father gave me a week before the birth of my son, “Fatherhood: the toughest job you’ll ever love” and the second quote is the answer my boss gave me when I told him my life was over. “Oh no. It’s just beginning.” Turns out, they were both right. Talk to you soon.
My wife, Ally, thought of this great concept last year. A website to help stay at home moms. She and her business partner, Kelli, came up with the name “Our Milk Money” I told them to call it “Our Milf Money”, but they thought that might attract the wrong target audience. Can’t say I blame her. Anyway they soon realized (and rightly so) that for every self employed mom out there, there’s a self employed dad also trying to eke out a living while trying to raise a family at the same time. In fact in my opinion the self employed father needs this kind of website the most because we as men tend to put the pressure on ourselves of being the sole provider and breadwinner of the family. This goes back to the beginnings of civilization (stupid, lousy hunter-gatherer cavemen.) I guess it all depends on the family situation. For instance while I am the breadwinner of my family, I am just the opposite of self employed. You can’t get more corporate than me. I work for The Walt Disney Company, one of the biggest corporate machines in the world. In fact I have to go back and examine that last sentence to make sure I’m not being slanderous and thereby subject to a possible lawsuit. OH YES THEY WOULD! However even though I am the “breadwinner”, the bread I’m winning is wet and moldy because I am below middle management at the House of the Mouse which means I probably make less money than you. I know I don’t know you, but trust me on this one. So hi everybody. I’m Chris. Ally and Kelli have asked me to start up this little daddy corner to make sure that the voice of the dad can be heard. Because it’s important that everybody involved with Our Milk Money whether merchant, shopper, or curious visitor knows that this is not just a website for moms. It’s a website for all self employed parents. And everybody should be represented. Well I’m here to represent you, daddies. REPRESENT! Word! Fo-shizzle! Okay I promise never to do that again. I’m just trying to tell you that you’re not alone. I’ll share my stories, hopes, fears, dreams, triumphs and disappointments of being a father. I already have plenty of each category and my son isn’t even two years old yet. Maybe together, we can see this thing called fatherhood through. I’ll leave you with two quotes. The first quote is on a T-shirt that my own father gave me a week before the birth of my son, “Fatherhood: the toughest job you’ll ever love” and the second quote is the answer my boss gave me when I told him my life was over. “Oh no. It’s just beginning.” Turns out, they were both right. Talk to you soon.
A Little Miracle...With A Little Help
Author’s note: The following blog entry is about fertility treatments. Because of the family nature of this website, please understand that reading between the lines is required.
Before we go any farther, I want to say that it wasn’t my fault. I want to make that very clear from the beginning. My boys could swim. They were Olympic swimmers. They could medal at Beijing, okay? I proved that fact the day I had to go through the humiliating process of walking into a crowded (of course) waiting room of a medical clinic and hand over for analysis a brown paper bag containing a cup of “me”. I guess I voluntarily put myself in this situation. Rather than perform the necessary procedure “on site” in a brightly lit sterile room with a stool and a magazine, I chose to take care of things in the privacy of my own home. Let’s be honest, guys. It’s all about home field advantage, y’know? Nobody performs as well in another ballpark (so to speak). Anyway I was taking a chance with this particular method because time was somewhat of the essence. I think the little guys have about 45 minutes to survive on their own in the big bad world. Luckily the clinic was only about a 5 minute drive from my house. Of course the real challenge was not falling asleep immediately after the deed was done which goes completely against the “man” code. But I did it, capped it, bagged it, drove it, and handed it over to a humorless nurse. I know she was humorless because I was trying to crack jokes to ease my obvious discomfort and I was getting nothing in return. Not even a smirk. Even my wife placates me with a sarcastic “ha ha” on occasion. The nurse took one bored look at the bag, looked at me and asked in a voice that in my opinion was a little louder than necessary, “Do you have your paperwork?” Sadly I answered her question with a question of my own, “What paperwork?” I wasted precious moments arguing that I had no idea I was supposed to bring any paperwork with me and when I realized that I wasn’t getting anywhere with Nurse Ratchet, rushed out the door. So while my boys were crowded into a plastic cup dying a slow death while looking for an egg they would never find, I sped back home, picked up the necessary paperwork and rushed back to the clinic in the nick of time. I rushed in heroically and handed my paperwork to the nurse giving the waiting clinic patients quite a show. Anyway even with the little swimmers on their last legs (or tails as it were) I was still deemed “very fertile” when the lab results came back. So, there. Okay, moving on. My wife and I began trying to conceive a child about 2 ½ years into our marriage. We went from “hoping for a happy accident” to “casually trying” to “Honey, it’s 7:23 PM exactly. Get upstairs right now, put 2 pillows under my lower back, and get yourself into a 56 degree angle….NO, you fool! You’re clearly at a 68 degree angle. MY GOD! Do you even want a baby??!!” After a year had passed with no results, we decided it was time to cheat. Not on each other, but rather on the procreation process. We met with a very nice fertility doctor who was also obviously very good at her job judging from her “wall of fame”. This was an entire wall of her office devoted to photographs of babies that she had helped create almost like a modern day Dr. Frankenstein. When my wife saw the wall she burst into tears dreaming of the day when our baby’s smiling face would be thumb tacked alongside the others. The first thing we had to do was to get checked out individually for any fertilization abnormalities. I have already recounted my vindicating albeit humiliating tale. My wife was found to be fertile as well, but in need of a little help to make things stick. A “baby boost” if you will. She started with Clomid pills and when that yielded no purchase, she began administering shots to herself. Actually, not quite to herself. She was scared to death of needles and was well aware of my infamous lack of hand eye coordination so she drove all the way down to the Dr.’s office each morning to have the professionals stick her. Now here’s the thing. Both of these methods significantly increased the hormones coursing through her body. And all of these hormones made for a very…uh…let’s say…intense personality. Lucky me. I was always told that “crazy wife” doesn’t appear until the first trimester of a pregnancy, but then again my wife has always been an overachiever. Our last resort before kicking everything up a notch to in vitro fertilization was the insemination process. My wife provides the target, I provide the ammo, and the doctor provides the gun. This is basically a procreation process that I liken to the ally oop maneuver in basketball. One guy throws the ball up to the net from outside of the paint, the other guy athletically leaps into the air and stuffs it home. In this case I’m the guy who throws the ball up. Five times my wife and I drove the ball down the court…literally. What a circus this was. I basically had to go through the same humiliating process I had endured the year before when I was tested. It was ridiculous! Leave it to science to take all of the fun out of an activity that I had been enjoying quite regularly since my mid teens. On an August morning in 2005, we awoke to commence this freak show for the 5th and final time. It was the last insemination our insurance would cover so we had to make this one count. My wife prepared breakfast and readied for work while I “got started”. A friend of mine was visiting from out of town and staying in our guest bedroom. I assured her that she may want to stay in there for a little while longer on that particular morning. Otherwise she would be privy to a morning shock from which she would never recover. So once again I did it, capped it, bagged it, and drove it. There were two significant differences from my previous adventure. This time I had farther to drive and my wife was in the passenger seat holding the evidence. To keep the sample as warm as possible, she held the paper bag between her breasts because she heard that this is the warmest place on the female body. It was kind of sweet in a way. It was kind of like her first motherly act. We panicked every time we saw brake lights in front of us. For some insane reason we were surprised that we were sitting in traffic at morning rush hour on a Southern California freeway. I rolled down my window and yelled, ”Come on! Lady with a baby! Seriously!” The few times traffic did let up, I exceeded the speed limit and secretly hoped a cop would pull us over. I was dying to explain the reason for our haste. I was even planning on asking for an escort the last few miles. We finally arrived at our destination and rushed inside. The next step was to “wash the sample” They put the cup in a big metal machine and prepared it for its final and crucial leg of the journey. I remember thinking, “I certainly hope my cup is the only one in there right now. For instance if a sweet Asian couple is also here hoping for their first child, and a mix up occurs we could have the makings of a real life wacky sitcom on our hands.” The nurse assured me that there were definite checks and balances and that there was nothing to worry about. The doctor stuffed the ally oop home with gusto…and an instrument resembling a turkey baster. Upon examining my wife’s uterus, the doctor also revealed that not only was the net open (to further the basketball analogy), but there were 7 others like it on the court. Basically the shots my wife had painfully endured for three months were working in spades. It was very possible my “very fertile” swimmers might find up to 8 targets. Instead of you, me and baby makes three, we were suddenly looking at a possible you, me and 8 babies makes bankruptcy. We could have been one of those couples that end up on the cover of Newsweek. To make a long story short (oh it’s far too late for that), that August day proved to be the winning basket. Of the 8 follicles, only one was fertilized and successfully implanted. Now after two years with the lucky winner, it makes perfect sense. He’s a very tough kid. And yet I still carry a sadness with me sometimes. I find myself thinking the ridiculous thought that he’s not really mine. I mean I cheated. I just got the assist. Nobody remembers the guy who threw the ball up. Only the guy who finished the slam dunk. We men don’t like any help whether it’s directions to the interstate or conceiving a child. It’s all such male ego and prideful bullsh*t. And just when I’m thinking these ridiculous thoughts my son will turn to me and flash that smile that looks so eerily like mine. And I’ll sigh with relief and realize how wrong I am. I didn’t cheat. In fact I worked harder than most people to bring him into our world. That makes him special. That makes him a miracle. And that makes him all mine.And the doctor? Well as a reward for her beautiful slam dunk, she’s got a big old smiling picture of our miracle on her wall.
By Chris Loprete
Saturday, April 26, 2008
Making a change isn't easy, but the pay off will be spectacular for all of us!
As I watch the applications for new members roll in, I am pleased at what it will all mean for us at Our Milk Money. The bigger our directory, the more often consumers will find our site to be a valuable search engine for the products and services that they are seeking.
But lately, I find myself awake at night with a single concern: While we have so many wonderfully creative parents listed on our site, I am worried that we don't have enough of the ordinary products and services that consumers will be searching for. I am constantly thinking in terms of how to bring consumers to the site. Once they are here, all of our creative mom businesses will be seen, but what if people don’t know to search for us? Then it dawned on me the simple answer. First of all, I’ve always made the statement that we need to set an example. We need to contribute to our own economy and make a commitment to purchase from each other. Then we need to trust that others will follow. Second, I realized that we already have just about everything we need in our database. There are so many members who are private consultants for a variety of different companies. Third, it's the fathers that bring us the practical services that consumers are looking for. Therefore, we need to offer just as much support to our self-employed fathers.
If I am really going to practice what I preach, I need to make some changes myself. I’d like to list my OMM resolutions upon the launch of our site, and I hope you’ll join me in making some changes.
1. Instead of buying my favorite Estee Lauder makeup, I resolve to find similar (or perhaps better) products sold by a Mary Kay, Self Indulgence, Suzanne by Suzanne Sommers or Arbonne rep listed on Ourmilkmoney.com.
2. Instead of buying cleaning products at the grocery store, I will look into Shaklee and the enaturalshop for a less toxic cleaning line.
3. Instead of racking my brain for the next meal I plan for my family, I’ll be prepared with products from homemade gourmet, Pampered Chef and Taste of Home Entertaining
4. The next time I go to a baby shower, I will browse creative ideas from Campbell Cate, Posh Pampoose, and Sobebabies.
There are many more. I hope you'll respond to this blog with other ideas that will keep our resolutions going. I know I am missing many more everyday purchases that are listed right here in our directory.
My hope is that when people find out our mission, that we are looking to offer every possible product and service, they will want to become a member as well. The following is what I would like to see more of, so if you have any connections to parents who provide the following, please send them our way. You can tell them that we have been asking for them personally!
Hairstylists
Attorneys
Computer technicians
Grant writers
CPAs
Dog Groomers
Car Washers
Bakers
Cooks
Massage Therapists
Manicurists
Baby Sitters
House Sitters
Tutors
Mortgage Brokers
Real Estate Brokers
Credit Card Consolidators
Car Dealers
Home Designers
Pet Sitters
People with big houses and yards who are willing to rent out homes for birthday parties
Local Farmers selling fruits and vegetables
Products:
Electronics
Soap, Shampoo, conditioner
Hair products such as gels and balms
Deodorants
Household items such as toilet paper, light bulbs and paper towels
Food for toddlers
Toys for kids, consignment, lightly used clothing
CDs and DVDs
Books
Magazines
Furniture
cell phones/ phone service
internet service
Let’s focus on buying only from each other!!! What do you spend your money on? Can you be sure that a parent isn’t selling it to help support their family? It may be hard in the beginning. We are all used to our ways. We know the products we like and we are used to going to the appropriate store to buy them. Making a change is hard. But wouldn’t you want to know that others decided to make a change to support you and the products you sell? So, imagine yourself buying the same things you normally would buy, but supporting other parents, just like you, who are in love with their kids and care more about giving them a good life than anything. It’s something that we should all be able to relate to. Let’s make those changes right now. Some self-employed parent has the service or product you need. Let’s find them, and know that others will be finding you.
By Ally
But lately, I find myself awake at night with a single concern: While we have so many wonderfully creative parents listed on our site, I am worried that we don't have enough of the ordinary products and services that consumers will be searching for. I am constantly thinking in terms of how to bring consumers to the site. Once they are here, all of our creative mom businesses will be seen, but what if people don’t know to search for us? Then it dawned on me the simple answer. First of all, I’ve always made the statement that we need to set an example. We need to contribute to our own economy and make a commitment to purchase from each other. Then we need to trust that others will follow. Second, I realized that we already have just about everything we need in our database. There are so many members who are private consultants for a variety of different companies. Third, it's the fathers that bring us the practical services that consumers are looking for. Therefore, we need to offer just as much support to our self-employed fathers.
If I am really going to practice what I preach, I need to make some changes myself. I’d like to list my OMM resolutions upon the launch of our site, and I hope you’ll join me in making some changes.
1. Instead of buying my favorite Estee Lauder makeup, I resolve to find similar (or perhaps better) products sold by a Mary Kay, Self Indulgence, Suzanne by Suzanne Sommers or Arbonne rep listed on Ourmilkmoney.com.
2. Instead of buying cleaning products at the grocery store, I will look into Shaklee and the enaturalshop for a less toxic cleaning line.
3. Instead of racking my brain for the next meal I plan for my family, I’ll be prepared with products from homemade gourmet, Pampered Chef and Taste of Home Entertaining
4. The next time I go to a baby shower, I will browse creative ideas from Campbell Cate, Posh Pampoose, and Sobebabies.
There are many more. I hope you'll respond to this blog with other ideas that will keep our resolutions going. I know I am missing many more everyday purchases that are listed right here in our directory.
My hope is that when people find out our mission, that we are looking to offer every possible product and service, they will want to become a member as well. The following is what I would like to see more of, so if you have any connections to parents who provide the following, please send them our way. You can tell them that we have been asking for them personally!
Hairstylists
Attorneys
Computer technicians
Grant writers
CPAs
Dog Groomers
Car Washers
Bakers
Cooks
Massage Therapists
Manicurists
Baby Sitters
House Sitters
Tutors
Mortgage Brokers
Real Estate Brokers
Credit Card Consolidators
Car Dealers
Home Designers
Pet Sitters
People with big houses and yards who are willing to rent out homes for birthday parties
Local Farmers selling fruits and vegetables
Products:
Electronics
Soap, Shampoo, conditioner
Hair products such as gels and balms
Deodorants
Household items such as toilet paper, light bulbs and paper towels
Food for toddlers
Toys for kids, consignment, lightly used clothing
CDs and DVDs
Books
Magazines
Furniture
cell phones/ phone service
internet service
Let’s focus on buying only from each other!!! What do you spend your money on? Can you be sure that a parent isn’t selling it to help support their family? It may be hard in the beginning. We are all used to our ways. We know the products we like and we are used to going to the appropriate store to buy them. Making a change is hard. But wouldn’t you want to know that others decided to make a change to support you and the products you sell? So, imagine yourself buying the same things you normally would buy, but supporting other parents, just like you, who are in love with their kids and care more about giving them a good life than anything. It’s something that we should all be able to relate to. Let’s make those changes right now. Some self-employed parent has the service or product you need. Let’s find them, and know that others will be finding you.
By Ally
Friday, April 25, 2008
Before Our Milk Money
I was a working parent, and struggling with one of the most difficult years of my life. As much as I dreamed of winning the lottery and being able to spend time with my beautiful new baby boy, only 5 months old when I returned to my day job, I did not believe that I had a choice. I searched online often for the perfect opportunity that would make me stand up and go, “this is it! This is what I’ve been looking for! This is the perfect way to make money from home. Now I can quit!” But I never found it. It felt almost paradoxical that I was getting a decent middle income salary but I really only worked 10% of the time I was actually at my office- the other 90% just did my best to make myself look busy so that I wouldn’t be “found out.”
I needed the stable paycheck to pay for daycare. I grew to rely on that income, and not because I needed extra indulgences. Once we became parents, we cut out a lot of extras – going out to eat, we commuted in one car to save on gas, we gave up morning starbucks when the office coffee was just fine and free, and we stayed above water, but barely. So, believe me, it’s not as if I didn’t want to give up a posh lifestyle. With the cost of daycare, we were paycheck to paycheck and our incomes were the only stability we knew.
I was pretty convinced, even with all that internet searching that there was no alternative to this life. Although I found ads for millions of companies promising to give me EXACTLY what I needed, ironically, it was the very reason I didn’t feel that I could trust any of them. I wasn’t trying to be difficult and talk myself out of a good opportunity just because I was afraid. As a reasonably intelligent person, I know nothing was a guarantee, but there were just too many gray areas…the fine print that one doesn’t discover until AFTER you’ve already made the leap and are knee deep in your new “woops” career that will go nowhere and will eventually be shrugged off as, “well, I wanted to try.”
As a new parent, I couldn’t take that risk. Not when I had to think of my family. I’d made mistakes falling for the wrong get rich quick schemes before, and although it stung a bit, I would eventually get over it.
But this was different. I couldn’t afford a mistake this time. Not when I had a son, a mortgage, and job that gave me group health insurance.
It wasn’t until I was suddenly laid off and was forced into finding a new alternative that I saw things differently. With the severance I received, a bit of unemployment, and the daycare expense now non existent, I now had time to stay home with my son, at least for a little while - until I discovered what my next move would be. I had time to breath, even if only for a moment, and I wanted to take advantage of every second that I was able to stay with my son until the day I had to go back to a new job. I knew that day would come fast, but for the time being, I was just going to hug my son and breathe…just for a moment.
6 months later, I had a new viewpoint. After seeing my son flourish, my husband and I both feeling less stressed, time to actually spend weekends together rather than a frantic rush to finish laundry and grocery shop for the week, I called a family meeting and made a very important announcement.
“I am not going back to work.”
I didn’t care if I had to live in a cardboard box. I would never work for anyone else again, and leave my son. When I told my husband this, he stood there quietly staring at me, as if he was waiting for the punch line at the end of the joke.
Finally, he said, “Um, okay. That’s a nice thought, but…you can’t just DECIDE not to work again…”
Yes, I could. Every fiber in my being told me that I belonged at home with my son, and that if there was any way to make it work, I wanted to find it.
As a recent mother, I became intensely aware of the “maternal instinct” which fascinated me to no end. I had watched myself transform into everything a mother is supposed to be- even though a year later I was sure that there were things I wouldn’t be able to adapt to. I also learned in all my prenatal classes, how important our instincts really are when caring for a child, and how listening to them will almost always guarantee your best parental performance.
It wasn’t until this moment that I realized that extreme pain and turmoil I was in when I first dropped my son off at daycare to return to work after my maternity leave. This pain was unlike anything I’d ever known- and yet, I did my best to ignore it just to get through my work day. NOW, I was seeing in clearly- my instinct was shouting and pleading with me – “NO! Don’t leave your son. You aren’t ready and neither is he!” As much as I tried to avoid it, it followed me every where for an entire year. Once I went back to work, I couldn’t stand any “down time”. Infact, it made me crazy…so crazy that I’d walk in and out of every office asking if anyone needed any help with anything. I was afraid that if I stopped for a spilt second to think, my mind would take me to the one roomed home daycare where my child was growing up without me. So I kept myself as busy as I could to avoid that reality.
Yes, being at home with my son and living off of an unemployment check may have seemed irresponsible, but I was certainly earning that paycheck. And the more I thought about the kind of work that was involved in being a stay-at-home parent, the more it angered me that I wasn’t going to be able to keep that income flowing in. Didn’t I deserve it as much as anyone? Especially when I’d spent the last 5 years at my day job doing approximately 75% personal stuff, anyway?
NO! I wasn’t leaving my son again. I didn’t care what it took, I’d find a way to stay home. I’d even be willing to sell our house, our 2nd car, shop at thrift stores and garage sales. Nothing else mattered. I would not leave my son again. I knew, beyond any doubt that I would find the answer I so desperately tried to find on all my internet searches 6 months before. Because this time I HAD TO.
Literally keeping me up at night, I couldn’t shake the idea that there had to be others who were just like me, not knowing that it was possible to make a change and have a better life. It made me horribly sad to think that had I not been laid off, I’d still be working, surfing the internet and praying that the miracle answer would come save me. Ironically, my lay off was the answer to my prayers- even if only temporary. It brought me home to my son and showed me that I clearly didn’t belong anywhere but here. I began jotting down some ideas.
Although it’s easy to blame others, for the situation I was in- Bosses who should have promoted me, or been more flexible, allowing me to telecommute, better and more affordable daycares, politicians who didn’t spend our tax money in areas that would have helped better our situations, our government for not making paid maternity leave longer, my parents and inlaws for not being able to retire, move in from out of state and become permanent babysitters… the fact was, I didn’t know who to blame.
We live in a democracy, and what that means to me is that no one is allowed to tell me what career to have, or what role to have in my life. Although they may not be easy to find, there is always an opportunity to work, to make money, to seek a better education. We all know we can do anything we want if we put our mind to it, so then why aren’t we doing it? Why are so many of us struggling? What are we missing? These are the questions that kept me up at night.
I also couldn’t shake the feeling that others out there, just like me, even less fortunate than I- who weren’t lucky enough to be laid off, and might never have the chance to experience what I had- and be given the answer that I had. I wanted others to know that they did have a choice and despite their fears in leaving their stable corporate jobs, they had no idea that it was seriously necessary. Thinking that I might never have been given the gift of knowing what it was like to stay at home would bring me to tears.
I had to do something. Now that I was seeing things so much more clear than the year before, I knew I had to find a legitimate way to bring in a supplemental income, at least as much as unemployment would pay. I had to use my passion to help others.
But, what could I do? Somehow get everyone fired from their day jobs so that they could collect unemployment, too? No- obviously not the answer.
I want to not only help other parents have the opportunity to stay home with their children, but to help them realize that they are not wrong in wanting to do so. I want for other parents to be able to stop denying themselves the truth in what they deserved. I want them to know that they do belong at home with their children and their families deserve to flourish.
We have listened to politicians from every group talk about family values as if it was the one thing that was ripping our country apart, and yet there doesn’t seem to be any concern for the fact that the average educated family with two parents and at least one child need 2 incomes to survive. If family values are really what our country needs to get itself into a healthier place, then why isn’t there more focus on keeping children at home with their parents rather than at a daycare?
In my frantic search for some answers, I found that there were many people who felt the way that I did, and some very smart groups had already formed movements to get themselves heard. I encourage you to check out some of these groups: www.momsrising.org and www.moveon.org
That is a good place to start.
Welcome to my brain. It keeps going and going and going- like the energizer bunny. I am anxious to see if OurMilkMoney helps the situation the way I believe it will. But if it doesn’t… you can bet I will keep on tweaking until it does make some sort of impact. I won’t give up trying. None of us should. Our families are counting on us to save the world.
By Ally
I needed the stable paycheck to pay for daycare. I grew to rely on that income, and not because I needed extra indulgences. Once we became parents, we cut out a lot of extras – going out to eat, we commuted in one car to save on gas, we gave up morning starbucks when the office coffee was just fine and free, and we stayed above water, but barely. So, believe me, it’s not as if I didn’t want to give up a posh lifestyle. With the cost of daycare, we were paycheck to paycheck and our incomes were the only stability we knew.
I was pretty convinced, even with all that internet searching that there was no alternative to this life. Although I found ads for millions of companies promising to give me EXACTLY what I needed, ironically, it was the very reason I didn’t feel that I could trust any of them. I wasn’t trying to be difficult and talk myself out of a good opportunity just because I was afraid. As a reasonably intelligent person, I know nothing was a guarantee, but there were just too many gray areas…the fine print that one doesn’t discover until AFTER you’ve already made the leap and are knee deep in your new “woops” career that will go nowhere and will eventually be shrugged off as, “well, I wanted to try.”
As a new parent, I couldn’t take that risk. Not when I had to think of my family. I’d made mistakes falling for the wrong get rich quick schemes before, and although it stung a bit, I would eventually get over it.
But this was different. I couldn’t afford a mistake this time. Not when I had a son, a mortgage, and job that gave me group health insurance.
It wasn’t until I was suddenly laid off and was forced into finding a new alternative that I saw things differently. With the severance I received, a bit of unemployment, and the daycare expense now non existent, I now had time to stay home with my son, at least for a little while - until I discovered what my next move would be. I had time to breath, even if only for a moment, and I wanted to take advantage of every second that I was able to stay with my son until the day I had to go back to a new job. I knew that day would come fast, but for the time being, I was just going to hug my son and breathe…just for a moment.
6 months later, I had a new viewpoint. After seeing my son flourish, my husband and I both feeling less stressed, time to actually spend weekends together rather than a frantic rush to finish laundry and grocery shop for the week, I called a family meeting and made a very important announcement.
“I am not going back to work.”
I didn’t care if I had to live in a cardboard box. I would never work for anyone else again, and leave my son. When I told my husband this, he stood there quietly staring at me, as if he was waiting for the punch line at the end of the joke.
Finally, he said, “Um, okay. That’s a nice thought, but…you can’t just DECIDE not to work again…”
Yes, I could. Every fiber in my being told me that I belonged at home with my son, and that if there was any way to make it work, I wanted to find it.
As a recent mother, I became intensely aware of the “maternal instinct” which fascinated me to no end. I had watched myself transform into everything a mother is supposed to be- even though a year later I was sure that there were things I wouldn’t be able to adapt to. I also learned in all my prenatal classes, how important our instincts really are when caring for a child, and how listening to them will almost always guarantee your best parental performance.
It wasn’t until this moment that I realized that extreme pain and turmoil I was in when I first dropped my son off at daycare to return to work after my maternity leave. This pain was unlike anything I’d ever known- and yet, I did my best to ignore it just to get through my work day. NOW, I was seeing in clearly- my instinct was shouting and pleading with me – “NO! Don’t leave your son. You aren’t ready and neither is he!” As much as I tried to avoid it, it followed me every where for an entire year. Once I went back to work, I couldn’t stand any “down time”. Infact, it made me crazy…so crazy that I’d walk in and out of every office asking if anyone needed any help with anything. I was afraid that if I stopped for a spilt second to think, my mind would take me to the one roomed home daycare where my child was growing up without me. So I kept myself as busy as I could to avoid that reality.
Yes, being at home with my son and living off of an unemployment check may have seemed irresponsible, but I was certainly earning that paycheck. And the more I thought about the kind of work that was involved in being a stay-at-home parent, the more it angered me that I wasn’t going to be able to keep that income flowing in. Didn’t I deserve it as much as anyone? Especially when I’d spent the last 5 years at my day job doing approximately 75% personal stuff, anyway?
NO! I wasn’t leaving my son again. I didn’t care what it took, I’d find a way to stay home. I’d even be willing to sell our house, our 2nd car, shop at thrift stores and garage sales. Nothing else mattered. I would not leave my son again. I knew, beyond any doubt that I would find the answer I so desperately tried to find on all my internet searches 6 months before. Because this time I HAD TO.
Literally keeping me up at night, I couldn’t shake the idea that there had to be others who were just like me, not knowing that it was possible to make a change and have a better life. It made me horribly sad to think that had I not been laid off, I’d still be working, surfing the internet and praying that the miracle answer would come save me. Ironically, my lay off was the answer to my prayers- even if only temporary. It brought me home to my son and showed me that I clearly didn’t belong anywhere but here. I began jotting down some ideas.
Although it’s easy to blame others, for the situation I was in- Bosses who should have promoted me, or been more flexible, allowing me to telecommute, better and more affordable daycares, politicians who didn’t spend our tax money in areas that would have helped better our situations, our government for not making paid maternity leave longer, my parents and inlaws for not being able to retire, move in from out of state and become permanent babysitters… the fact was, I didn’t know who to blame.
We live in a democracy, and what that means to me is that no one is allowed to tell me what career to have, or what role to have in my life. Although they may not be easy to find, there is always an opportunity to work, to make money, to seek a better education. We all know we can do anything we want if we put our mind to it, so then why aren’t we doing it? Why are so many of us struggling? What are we missing? These are the questions that kept me up at night.
I also couldn’t shake the feeling that others out there, just like me, even less fortunate than I- who weren’t lucky enough to be laid off, and might never have the chance to experience what I had- and be given the answer that I had. I wanted others to know that they did have a choice and despite their fears in leaving their stable corporate jobs, they had no idea that it was seriously necessary. Thinking that I might never have been given the gift of knowing what it was like to stay at home would bring me to tears.
I had to do something. Now that I was seeing things so much more clear than the year before, I knew I had to find a legitimate way to bring in a supplemental income, at least as much as unemployment would pay. I had to use my passion to help others.
But, what could I do? Somehow get everyone fired from their day jobs so that they could collect unemployment, too? No- obviously not the answer.
I want to not only help other parents have the opportunity to stay home with their children, but to help them realize that they are not wrong in wanting to do so. I want for other parents to be able to stop denying themselves the truth in what they deserved. I want them to know that they do belong at home with their children and their families deserve to flourish.
We have listened to politicians from every group talk about family values as if it was the one thing that was ripping our country apart, and yet there doesn’t seem to be any concern for the fact that the average educated family with two parents and at least one child need 2 incomes to survive. If family values are really what our country needs to get itself into a healthier place, then why isn’t there more focus on keeping children at home with their parents rather than at a daycare?
In my frantic search for some answers, I found that there were many people who felt the way that I did, and some very smart groups had already formed movements to get themselves heard. I encourage you to check out some of these groups: www.momsrising.org and www.moveon.org
That is a good place to start.
Welcome to my brain. It keeps going and going and going- like the energizer bunny. I am anxious to see if OurMilkMoney helps the situation the way I believe it will. But if it doesn’t… you can bet I will keep on tweaking until it does make some sort of impact. I won’t give up trying. None of us should. Our families are counting on us to save the world.
By Ally
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