Three years ago, I was a was single, driven career girl, with an even grasp on the corporate ladder and a swing in my step.  I had a new car, a new town home condominium that was spotless with everything had its place. I shopped at Saks, had “mani-pedis “with my gal pals and relished sushi lunches with fabulous friends.  I worked out five times a week for two hours and was getting back into good shape and good health.  Dates included lingering conversations over meals and movies — as well as the occasional candy and flowers.   Give me just a minute to say, “Ahhh.”

Fast forward to today!  To start with, I am now married to a great guy.  On Friday, our little boy will be two years old.  TWO!  One…Two!  Wow, they grow so fast.   Today, I work mostly from home running my consulting business.  My husband quit his job 18 months ago to stay at home with our son  and pursue ministry work.   So, here we are together… with our ball-obsessed dog, Maggie.   Snug as bugs in a rug.  Life is very different in this new place.  Very good, and very different.

As I have chatted and tweeted, laughed and cried with my other, now married gal pals — especially the ones with children — we have come to an agreement over the nature of a few, key changes in our lives.  My dear friend, Ann, encouraged me to share some of our thoughts with you here.

The new sexy: Hubby doing dishes, laundry and then vacuuming

The new “moo-moo” Yoga pants and a hoodie

The new workout: Picking up toys

The new mop: Calling the dog to lick up mess from floor

The new clean: Dishes out of the sink, everything else stuffed in a closet

The new gourmet: Anywhere kids eat free

The new sushi: Peanut Butter and Jelly cut into triangles

The new sleeping in: 8 am = Heaven!

The new Ann Klein: “Finale Clearance” (say this with French accent)

The new splurge: Expensive shampoo and conditioner

The new mani-pedi: Taking a hot, uninterrupted shower

The new good hair day: CLEAN

The new favorite outfit: Anything that FITS

The new dress up: Wearing a bra

The new date night: Staying awake through the END of the movie

The new foreplay: Kicking off the yoga pants

The new gal bonding: Half -completed thoughts uttered in between shouts of “NO, <insert child’s name> No biting!”

The new teething ring: The dog’s ball (builds immunity)

The new promotion: Transitioning from Pampers to Pullups

The new fabulous: Absorbing each new beautiful word my son says

The new sunset: The peace that comes after bedtime

The new romance: Knowing my husband loves me — even in my yoga pants

In short, life is good.  It’s not always easy. It’s often hard work.  I’ve learned to let go of control and my own “standards” and desire for order.  But in doing so, things have developed a curious order of their own.  I have been released into a life I’d only dreamed of.   It’s a life indescribable… and one I call, “The New Happy.” Memories of the old life aside, I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

I’m an inadequate mother. There, I said it. And I have to say that I feel a sense of relief saying it out loud or at least out in the open on a very public blog. I’ve felt this deep, burning inadequacy often in the last three years since my daughter was born, but I feel it more and more as I fail to properly navigate the twisted paths through parenthood.

Tonight, my husband is out of town, and my daughter refused to go to sleep. I decided to make things fun for her and to let her snuggle in “mommy and daddy’s bed” for a while, maybe even sleep there with me. I even let her watch a little movie in bed after her regular bedtime to make it extra special. I thought that would be a cool mommy thing to do.

The whole thing backfired on me. When I said it was time to go to sleep, instead of a compliant child, I had a toddler meltdown on my hands. What was I thinking? Of course she’d be overtired if I let her stay up past her bedtime. Why hadn’t I anticipated the errors of my ways? And why did I think my idea of cool mommy was even remotely suitable for a three year old? But what the hell do I know?

I don’t know, and there’s the rub. I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing, a devastating realization for an overachiever who has been good at just about everything I’ve put my mind to do. But not motherhood. I throw my heart, soul and brainpower into being a good mom, but it always seems to backfire on me.

For some reason, I’m not getting the memos on what to do when she refuses to go potty, refuses to eat her dinner, refuses to go to bed. Intellectually, I know she is testing the waters, testing her power as a little individual. I don’t know how much is too much discipline or how little is too little. I don’t want to crush her feisty little spirit, but I can see how this could happen all too easily.

Tonight, after carrying her kicking and screaming into her bedroom when she utterly refused to go to sleep in my bed, I listened to her screeching and howling. Then she came out of her bedroom and back into mine.

“Go…to…bed,” I said in measured tones.

“I don’t want to go to bed,” she sobbed.

“Go…to…bed…now…or I’ll carry you back in your room and shut the door.”

“I don’t want to go to bed in my bed. I don’t want to go to bed in your bed. I want to go to bed in the living room. On the sofa,” she told me.

The living room? Was that okay to do? Was I giving in too easily, I wondered, as I followed her to the living room and tucked her blanket around her as she curled up on the sofa. She wanted to go to sleep in the living room. I returned to my bedroom exhausted, overwhelmed, feeling like I didn’t know what just happened or why. Certain that I just committed Mommy Sin #1285 and creating some new problem by not making her sleep in her own bed tonight.

Then I had to laugh through my own tears tonight as I read Steve Woodruff’s post about Father’s Day, and how men can feel inadequate about being fathers. Who are the parents who don’t feel inadequate most of the time? Or what I really want to know is who are the ones who do, and what denial pill or happy sauce are they slugging down? I want some.

Am I the only one who feels at any moment I might get fired from this mommy gig?

When I recently saw this list of worst mothers in literature, it got me wondering who are the good mothers I’ve read about? And the first thing I realized as I let that roll around in my head a bit was that I really needed to get back to reading more “grown-up” books!

Seriously, almost all of the moms that popped into my mind were from childrens literature. Nice mothers like one of my favorites from “I Love You Stinky Face” (and the traveling mommy’s friend “I Miss You Stinky Face“) by Lisa Mccourt.

Then I thought of the heroic Mrs. Frisby from “Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH.” But, that was a bit of a cheat since I haven’t actually read the book - just took my daughter to the local cinema that was doing a free showing of the movie “Secrets of NIMH” last month.

Then, in more young adult literature, I thought of Sally Jackson the self-sacrificing and loving mother of the title character in the Percy Jackson and the Olympians series. They’re a little advanced for my girl, but as a big Greek/Roman mythology fan, I found them a great read - in preparation for when she’s older, you know, so I’ll know if they’re ok for her to read. <wink>

The closest I could come to a good mother in a book that’s probably not in an elementary school library was August Boatwright from The Secret Life of Bees. She’s not a biological mother, but certainly filled that role for young Lily Owens in a way no one could top. I haven’t actually seen how Queen Latifah did playing her in the movie because I didn’t want to compare it to the book.

But after that, I started drawing a blank! A quick Google search for “mothers” and “literature” seemed to turn up more lists of bad mothers than good, so maybe I’m not the only one wracking my brain.  Do you guys have some favorite “good mothers” in the books you’ve read?

We’re on day 5 of my son’s horrendous stomach bug and to put it mildly, our house and everyone in it is in shambles. That sets the scene for:

1) My husband taking 2 unpaid days off this week

2) Me taking 3 unpaid days off this week

3) 3 gazillion loads of laundry

4) A shopping trip to buy 3 extra bedding sets because I can’t do laundry fast enough

5) 2 VERY tired parents, a frustrated healthy little girl, and a miserable, leaking-from-every-orifice, sick little boy.

And THAT sets the scene for my trip to the clinic today.

A trip made right after a naptime “incident” in which I almost had a heart attack thinking that my son had vomited blood. Nope, just red juice - heart rate slowed again.

The doctor walks in as I’m changing J’s diaper and gasps.

“Is that BLOOD?”

I stare down at J’s socks where she’s pointing and just. about. die.

Nope, that’s puke. Puke on his socks. Which I forgot to change when I was changing the bedding, his clothes, washing the carpet, and dealing with the general chaos of it all.

Yuck.

And I’m the mom who took her kid to the doctor with red puke on his socks.

I have no secrets, I guess. I’m just that mom. All the time.

FACEBOOK STATUS UPDATE, MON, MAR 16, 2009:

3:49pm Christian reports: Berkeley (7lbs, 7oz - 20 in - 9.9 Apgar Scale) sends her love to all. She’s now feeding for the 1st time like she’s been doing it her whole life!

***

BACKSTORY:

Two and a half years ago, I had the pleasure of meeting my son, Beckett, for the first time.

As a first time father, Beckett’s arrival in our Ft. Worth, TX hospital delivery room — and his mother, Karla, who did all the heroic work that life-changing day — truly humbled me.  Trying to convey to my own mother on my cell phone a minutes later what it like to see him born and to hold him in my own arms was nearly impossible.  I simply lacked the words.  Tears replaced them as I fumbled to express myself.  Luckily, she understood and let me go back to my wife and son, telling me to give her a call later that night when time allowed me to fill her in more fully.

While photographs have allowed me to ‘remember’ those first few minutes/hours of Beckett’s young life, so much of what took place that afternoon has faded into the funky contours of the human brain, lost to the natural passing of time.  Even the entries I posted on our family blog only hit a few highlights, often written long after they took place.  The sense of the in-the-moment immediacy and wunderlust, however, was impossible to translate…

…until now.

FAST FORWARD:

Two and a half years later, my wife and I returned to the same hospital delivery unit to meet our first daughter, Berkeley.

Since Beckett’s birth, our family blog has magnified significantly from a tepid attempt to semi-privately ‘journal’ a few family moments here and there to the development of a robust hub of digital stories, photos, and videos that are now regularly shared with hundreds of family, friends, colleagues, and strangers around the world.  At last count, we’ve crossed the 2,250 blog post mark…and that was before our daughter’s birth.  We suspect a ‘few’ more will be added, too.

Additionally, we’ve added an iPhone to our tool set, not to mention dualing Facebook accounts for both parents. This means that just-in-time storytelling options have been magnified far beyond the boundaries of what a family blog can pull off.  Seems that blogging is so last status update.

It was only a matter of time before we’d put it all together, letting our family and friends grab a virtual real-time seat with us as we prepared to deliver our daughter via type-n-post Facebook status updates. something that would have been inconceivable not that long ago.

• Ever wondered how you’d tell the story of your child’s birth through the lens of 140-character Facebook status updates?
• Ever wondered what it’d be like to Facebook status update every step leading to, during, and after your child’s birth?
• Ever wonder how such a story would read, one status update at a time?

This is our story, told 140-characters (or less) at at time.

Continue Reading »

For my first official post on This Mommy Blog, I’m going to recycle a post that I wrote about two years ago (I can see Kate rolling her eyes from here!). But really, I have a point.

Years ago when I first started blogging, I wrote about lots of things - my children included. Why? Because it is who I am.

And then the criticisms started.

And for half a second, I felt angry. And then mostly I felt sad. Sad because there is this bizarre need to put labels on people.

This post came out of those feelings.

It’s as true today as it was then. A few things have changed: I’ve gained a few pounds, added a new baby, written a few more blog posts since then and kind of parlayed “this mommy gig” into something more. But the crux of the post remains the same.

I’m very pleased to be here with these other great moms. I look forward to adding my two cents (and oh yeah, I will) on parenting, working (or not) and figuring out “this mommy gig.” Thanks for reading!

–

I am a mommy blogger. Yep, it’s true, I (gasp) blog about being a mom. Somehow, that has become synonymous with anti-feminism. How did this happen?

I know, I know, I’ve posted about this before, more or less when I first started blogging. But that was over a year ago - since then, I’ve had another baby, started even more exciting projects and otherwise learned a lot. So why even bring this “mommy blog” subject up now? I saw something that bothered me. I am a member of a group of bloggers (BlogHer) and recently read a rather uneven criticism of mommy bloggers. I won’t dignify the comments by linking to them because I don’t think it serves any real purpose, but I did want to respond to them on my blog - my mommy blog.

The comments were that, more or less, the blogger was annoyed by mommy blogs because she felt that they “cheapened” serious blogs written by women “by reducing blogging by women to the mommy track, with a side of fashion and diet.” She also implied that it was antithetical to combine feminism and parenting.

I just can’t figure out where that kind of anger comes from. But we women do this kind of thing a lot, don’t we? We judge and rant to each other for the choices that we make in a way that men would never do. I read a number of blogs written by men about their families including the excellent The Long Cut (editor’s note: since on hiatus) and Laid-Off Dad and have never once heard a criticism of the “dad blogs”. Men read such things, they like them or they don’t and they move on. Why can’t women do the same? If you peg my blog or any similar blog as simply a “mommy blog” and you don’t enjoy it, feel free to move on to something more your style. I’ll be okay, really.

But more than that, it disturbs me that there is a perception that writing about family somehow cheapens “serious” blogs. I think the inference is, really, that caring about motherhood limits who you are. It most certainly does not.

First of all, those of us who are mothers are never “just” mothers. We are daughters and sisters and aunts and cousins and friends and wives. We are writers and gardeners and cooks and mechanics and knitters and historians and politicians and policy-makers and musicians and artists and entrepreneurs and volunteers. We go interesting places. We do interesting things. We meet interesting people. And some of us also work outside of the home. We have a lot going on. Why wouldn’t we want to share it in a meaningful way?

Further, the inference that raising your children somehow robs you of any real substance is insulting. The whole point of starting my blog when I did was because in raising my children, I have learned a lot more about myself and the world. I’ve learned to put things into perspective, to focus on things that are important to me. Most of all, I’ve learned that growing up is not a process that ends when you leave your parents’ house. Children make you realize that you’re not as smart as you think, or as put together as you think. There is always something more. I’m still figuring my life out - now with a twist (okay, three little twists), hence the title, Mommy Grows Up (now Lawmummy).

And what have I learned? Having my children have reminded me that I’m smart. I’m resourceful. I’m occasionally witty. I’m determined. I care about others. I’m not a quitter. As corny as it sounds, my children make me want to (to paraphrase “As Good as it Gets”) be a better person.

I love writing my lawmummy blog - it is such a huge part of who I am. Of my blogs (I contribute to several), it is the one that I enjoy writing the most and the one that is the most popular. I don’t think it “cheapens” at all the “serious” blogs that I write for my law firm: taxgirl and erblawg, one of which has recently been picked up by a professional blogging service (more on that in weeks to come).

You see, becoming a mom has not made me any less interesting, it hasn’t somehow sucked all of the knowledge about other things out of my brain. I have two post college degrees (a JD and LLM Taxation) and I still use them. I am President of our local development corporation. I volunteer for SeniorLaw Project, Philadelphia Volunteer Lawyers for the Arts, Lawyers Without Borders and more.
I’m also seeking an agent right now for a novel that I completed a month or so again (it’s a legal mystery with a little bit of romance thrown in for good measure). If anything, motherhood makes me more interesting and more well-rounded (unfortunately, really well-rounded in some areas!).

And perhaps because of my daughters, I am more acutely aware of women’s issues than ever. I have always voted and believed in a woman’s right to a quality education (so important because of my experiences in my little Southern town); I have always considered myself a feminist. But now, when I look at my daughters, having choices for women is even more important to me. I want my daughters to go to any school that they want, study any subject that they want and have any career that they want (except for, as we always say, lawyer and exotic dancer - and we’re willing to bend on exotic dancer). You see, I care even more now about ensuring and promoting the rights of women not in spite of motherhood but because of it.

So, if you don’t enjoy reading about my children, no need to stop by my blog. But you’d be remiss in thinking that my whole life is about my children, or that my children somehow limit me to “the mommy track, with a side of fashion and diet.” In addition to “mommy topics” like breastfeeding and balancing work and home, I’ve blogged about abortion, the religious right and child abuse.

You’re also wrong to think that my blogs as a mommy - and similar mommy blogs written by my peers cheapen anything. If anything, we add value. We provide a unique and important perspective that is often neglected in the media. Without us, the blogosphere would be a lot less interesting.

There’s a new mom writing on This Mommy Gig! We’re looking forward to writing with…………….

Christine Campbell

For Christine, mother of twins in Reston, Virginia, a great day begins at 5:30am with fellow “mamas” in her neighborhood gathered for early morning boot camp – a run, some crunches, some arm work and last but not least planks. It’s a group she started because she knows “mommy time” only happens in the wee bitty hours of the morning…and she didn’t want to drive far to get in some good exercise.

Next up - getting a sassy pair of seven year old twins up and out the door for school. One boy, one girl, and both coming into their own defined sense of self.

With a sincere and drawn out wave goodbye at the bus stop she turns herself into that savvy woman who does business development at Erickson Barnett, a business to business focused marketing agency where she has spent her days (first part time and now full times) since her kids were born. Before Erickson Barnett she was a marketing maven (some have said) at several emerging technology firms, her favorite was Riverbed Technologies (mostly because they were bought by Aether for a whole darn lot
of money).

At about 5:00 she does the fast switch back to “mama”, watches her daughter turn cartwheels or her son at bat…claps and cheers and says things like “great job honey, you’re the best, that was perfect” until practices are over and it’s time for dinner. She can often be convinced to go to McDonalds (oh don’t roll your eyes) but more often grabs a frozen entrée she got from Dream Dinners out of the freezer and desperately tries to thaw it in time for dinner that night.

Skip ahead…bath…book…song. Now it’s her time to dedicate to her own business, For U Mothers, an athletic wear business targeting mothers.

In bed by 9:30 (she needs a solid eight). Up again at 5:30…start again.

P.S. You can find Christine C. on twitter at @cccampbell