Finding balance

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Gwyneth & kids selfie

Gwyneth & kids selfie

Over the past week or so, Gwyneth Paltrow has plastered headlines (okay, tabloid headlines… who’s counting?!) with her “conscious uncoupling” from her husband (gold star for the brilliant publicist behind that phrase) and has suffered the wrath of women, particularly working moms, across the country who are angered by her comments about “regular office jobs.” Like most US Weekly loving women, I have read her comments and the many responses that have been written in the new (perhaps over used) open letter format (here‘s my favorite). For those living under a pop culture rock, Gwynie (can I call her that?) made the following comment:

“I think it’s different when you have an office job, because it’s routine and, you know, you can do all the stuff in the morning and then you come home in the evening. When you’re shooting a movie, they’re like, ‘We need you to go to Wisconsin for two weeks,’ and then you work 14 hours a day, and that part of it is very difficult. I think to have a regular job and be a mom is not as, of course there are challenges, but it’s not like being on set.”

The truth is, yes, that comment was pretty bad. Yes, as a working mom, I’m a bit offended by Gwyneth’s assumption that I have it easier than her. But really, don’t we make assumptions of one another all the time? At least weekly, HuffingtonPost Parents features some open letter (see, there it is again!) to working moms, or stay at home moms, or moms wanting it all, or moms striving to make ends meet, or some other “class” of moms about how their situation is harder than someone else’s, or how they feel misunderstood. Why do we need to create classes among ourselves, rather than appreciating the unique triumphs and tribulations each mom experiences regardless of how our situation compares to that of someone else? How is Gwyneth Paltrow different than the rest of us (aside from all the obvious differences from the rest of us!)? At the heart of it all, isn’t she just another mom struggling to balance her particular situation, thinking that maybe the grass is greener on the other side? Isn’t she a mom going through a hard time, making (very) public comments about why she struggles as a working mom, even if through misdirected and backhanded comments about other moms?

My selfie with kids... totally the same thing...

My selfie with kids… totally the same thing…

A few weeks ago I had dinner with a friend who decided to leave her job three years ago, just after her first daughter was born. As we compared notes and swapped stories about our daughters’ growth, sassiness, and ability to push our buttons (isn’t that what being a toddler is all about?!), she said to me “I don’t know how you do it! How do you work a full day, and still manage to come home, make dinner, and take care of your kids, and then get up again the next morning and do it all over again?” I could have (and did) say the same to her about being home with her kids all day. I didn’t tell her that it takes me multiple cups of coffee to get through a focused day of work, or that sometimes “dinner” becomes the random odds and ends that my husband and I come up with while commuting home, or that I sometimes use Doc McStuffins to entertain my kids while I’m rerunning the same load of laundry I washed two days before but forgot to transfer to the drier. Similarly, I’m sure there’s plenty she didn’t tell me. That’s because we all adjust to the situation we’re in, while simultaneously trying to keep our heads above water and wondering how our counterparts “on the other side” keep their grass green.

Balance is a funny thing. Whereas before having kids, I imagined balance as perfectly aligned scales just like the image of my star sign Libra, I now see balance as an ever tipping scale that teeters back and forth by the week… day… even minute. There’s no perfect answer to balance. There’s no “perfect situation” out there. The new definition of balance is fluid and if we can find the right definition in any particular moment, isn’t that a victory in it of itself?

What does balance mean to you?

Finding safety in numbers

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A funny thing happens when you have kids – you are suddenly and simultaneously filled with love, awe and amazement (not to mention the slight fear that this tiny being is relying utterly and entirely on you for everything), while also catapulted into a new kind of loneliness and isolation that exists among midnight feedings, sleepless nights and the depths of mother(or father)hood. This juxtaposition is jarring and unexpected no matter how much planning and preparation new parents go through. I went through this with both my of my babies, and both times was shocked at these conflicting feelings and experiences.

with elizabeth

Courtesy of a three year old future photographer

Before having kids, I’d heard that motherhood was the next transition point in friendship – where some friends would inevitably disappear and others would emerge. The actualization of this transition was stark. As predicted, some friendships dimmed as our priorities shifted farther apart (and some showed their true strength), and I made some incredible new friends through daycare drop-offs, play dates, the occasional parents’ night out and random evenings of sneaking out after the kids go to bed to meet a girlfriend for a scoop of ice cream (yes, the drink of our twenties has been replaced with the ice cream scoop of our thirties… and we’re okay with that).

A few nights ago I had an opportunity to get a rare mother’s night out with a friend whose daughter is exactly one week younger than my second child. We reminisced about our pregnancies and the agony of waiting those final few (uncomfortable, sleepless, anticipation-riden) weeks before our daughters were born. However, the real shared experiences came in the weeks and months after the births of our bundles of joy. They came in the 3am text conversations we had while desperately rocking our kids to sleep, and in the midday maternity leave FaceTime chats that ultimately evolved into each of us staring at the other’s ceilings while trying to breastfeed/pump/get the baby to take the bottle. It was in those moments that I understood some of the deepest and most raw moments of friendship.

This wasn’t the first time that I experienced this kind of safety in numbers. When my first daughter was born, I joined a local mother’s group, thinking it would give me a chance to get to know other women in my new neighborhood and get out of the house with my young baby for a while. Never could I have imagined how life altering joining the group would be. Every Friday, six to ten of us would meet in someone’s living room and spread blankets on the floor for the babies to “play” while we swapped stories about poop, sleep cycles, sore nipples, and extreme exhaustion (ah, motherhood!). These women became my lifeline to a new normal, and without those Friday mornings, midnight texts and crazy stories, I’m not sure I would have made it sanely (mostly) through those early months of motherhood.

Although we see each other less now (and get a bit more sleep…on a good day), those are the ties that bind. We celebrate that fact every few months with a mother’s night out and a bottle of wine. There is a shared bond that we have — that all mothers have — that is an unspoken but real link between us. That’s not to say that I don’t cherish (and need!) my friendships with those without children (I DO!), or those that are not women (I DO!), but more to say that the safety and security that comes in numbers (and text messages) at 3am is not to be taken lightly.

How have you found your own safety in numbers?

Finding peace with my body

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Like most women, I’ve had my fair share of yo-yo’s of weight, and the associated self-deprecating thoughts. I’ve stared at the changes my body has gone through over the last decade as I transitioned from cute college co-ed to mom of two (my dad would say “you’re still cute!” So, thanks dad!). I’ve seen my belly change from flatter than I ever believed it was to stretchmark-ridden and pudgy. I’ve seen my butt and boobs go from lifted and perky to, well, the opposite of that. And what is up with the whiskers on my chin that were a lovely gift from pregnancy hormones?!

Cookie Monsters

Starting the love of cookies early…

But the truth is… each of these changes happened because my body did what it was designed to do – grow from girl to woman. I was blessed to have children in the process, but for the plenty of women out there who have chosen not to or cannot conceive, their bodies have undoubtedly also gone through the similar transformations and maturation that occur somewhere between the teen years and the mid-thirties. With that comes the maturation of mind, as well, to accept and eventually embrace these changes.

Of course, that’s not always easy. A few weeks ago my husband and I decided to join Weight Watchers to get our eating in check. We’d used WW before our wedding and had been so successful that we thought we’d give it another go. After my first week, I lost six pounds. I was floored, and on cloud nine. That is, until I got on the subway to work and someone eyed my stomach and offered (almost insisted) their seat. How was it that when I WAS pregnant, even at the end, it was rare for someone to offer their seat, but now 16 months after delivering my second baby and six pounds lighter than I was last week, someone was clamoring to do so? Of course, I appreciate their kindness and awareness of the possible need. But it was also a stark reminder that my relationship with my body is deeper than a number on a scale or a calculation of my dinner’s worth.

Lately, there have been so many postings on Facebook and in online articles about moms’ bodies – working out and toned, not working out and content, and somewhere in between. And somewhere deep in the center of that is the “mommy wars” debate. When will we, as a society, recognize the beauty and complexities of our bodies and embrace our own, and each other’s, bodies? When will we, as women, stop sizing each other up, longing for someone else’s toned arms or flat belly?

And a curiosity for gardening (and hopefully eating vegetables)

And a curiosity for gardening (and hopefully eating vegetables)

Earlier this week, I was at a professional conference where I made a new friend next to the cookie table. No, not like we met by the cookie table and then moved on as we swapped stories and shared a few laughs. Rather, I made a new friend while we stood firmly planted next to the cookie table and sampled each of the cookie varieties (with witty commentary) as we bonded over a deep love for chocolate and sweets (and a pretty intense sugar high to boot). As I developed a fast (and hopefully lasting) friendship with this new woman, I forced myself to push away the thought that the cookies would easily melt off her tall and lean figure, while they would likely set up permanent camp on my thighs (and belly. And ass.). Instead, I focused on the uncontrollable giggles we shared as our colleagues came looking for us, only to discover that we had attached ourselves to this other cookie-loving woman.

This was a big feat for me, as I’ve been challenging myself lately to try to respect different women’s attitudes about their bodies rather than comparing my own physicality to theirs. Instead of thinking “I wish I could fit into a dress like that,” I’ve been consciously thinking, “she is rocking that dress!” Or, instead of thinking “she must work out like crazy to look like that,” I’m now thinking “I’m so impressed with her commitment to taking care of herself.” It’s not always easy, and does take consciousness and some practice. But, it’s also incredibly freeing and is giving me space to find peace with my own body. With practice, it allows me to use the same thought process when I look in the mirror and give myself the same respect. After all, isn’t that what it’s all about?

How have you found peace with your own body?

Finding Me Time

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I thought it only appropriate that my first official blog post would be about finding the holy grail of motherhood – “me time.” Afterall, this blog is entirely dedicated to moms (and dads) as individuals, with their own tastes (outside of a half eaten grilled cheese sandwich), interests (beyond Dora the Explorer), and hobbies (that don’t include reciting “Brown Bear, Brown Bear, what do you see?”).

Adjusting to being a mom x2

Before having kids, I don’t think I fully grasped the concept of “me time.” Let’s be honest – wasn’t ALL time “me time”? I could come and go as I pleased, eat what and when I wanted (and go out to a restaurant without an arsenal of crayons, stickers, coloring books, cheerios, wipes, sippy cups, and multiple apologies to the wait staff for the hunger-induced meltdown).

Before having kids, “me time” was really just “time.” Sure, I took breaks from my friends or my husband to relish in my personal space with a pedicure, movie, some retail therapy or reading a book in peace. But the truth is, I didn’t realize how precious or important this time was until there were other innocent beings relying on me at all times.

My friend just had her first baby and told me “I wish I’d appreciated sleep more before having my son! Like really appreciated it… slept whenever I wanted to, lounged in bed, and took naps just because.” Amen sister, ain’t that the truth.

However, as I’ve come out of that newborn fog and entered the world of two toddlers, I’ve learned that “me time” doesn’t have to be extravagant, well-planned, or long. In fact, sometimes “me time” is sitting in the car listening to the rest of my favorite song before going into the house and being greeted by the pitter patter of my kids barreling down the hallway into my arms. That hug is the best part of my day, but sometimes those last few lyrics of “baby you’re a firework…” is a close second (thank you Katy Perry!).

When my nephew (now 8) was an infant, my sister-in-law would go shopping at Target or the grocery store at nine or ten at night. I never understood it – why would anyone want to walk the aisles of any store at a time when most people are settling into bed? Now I know… “me time.” It wasn’t about getting essentials (which certainly happened) of picking up non-essentials (as everyone is apt to do at Target). It was just about getting out of the house and having a few minutes of time to herself. I too now enjoy a random shopping trip late at night. I get it now… what a luxury!

For all those moms (and dads) out there looking for ways to find some “me time,” without devoting too much time, here’s a list of some ideas:

  • Take a long shower
  • Volunteer to go buy coffee for your partner early on a Saturday morning
  • Go for a walk/run, even if only to the corner and back
  • Take the long way home
  • Commit to reading a page/chapter a day/week in a new book
  • Write in a journal while your kids are napping or you’re eating lunch
  • Arrange for a babysitter for a few hours every day/week/month
  • Get a mani/pedi (or a polish change – did you know they do ALMOST everything they would do with full service at a fraction of the cost?!)
  • Plant a few of your favorite herbs or foods in your backyard, or in a pot if you don’t have planting space

What do you do to get your “me time”? Let me know in the comments section of this post… or tell me about it while we walk the aisles of Target at 10pm next Saturday night.