Bumps in the Road

Two weeks ago, on the way home from one round of Listen To Your Mother auditions, our car was rear-ended when our family was stopped at a traffic light. We were all okay, I was definitely the most shook up of the four of us, and the car didn't sustain too much damage. Marc took the car in to be repaired this past Monday morning, President's Day and the start of a week of school vacation for the kids.

We thought it was actually good timing, since the kids left on Tuesday morning to spend a few days in Arkansas with my in-laws, my sister-in-law and her family. With the kids gone, we thought we could get by without a rental car for most of that week, since I'd just have my normal commute by train. Marc and I also thought we'd be spending a lot of time together, since a break from the kids should mean one constant date night, right?

Wrong. Very, very wrong.

The week ended up being an exercise in why work-life balance isn't just for people with kids. What should have been a simplified life ended up even more complicated as we experienced many more bumps in the road than just the original car accident.

After dropping off the car Monday, Marc had gotten a rental car because I was at home with the kids that day, and we didn't want to be without a car since Max had been semi-sick over the weekend and we had put off some errands. On Tuesday, Marc and the kids left the house at 5:30 in the morning so they could make their flight leaving from Hartford. By the time Marc got back to Boston, another snowstorm was already beginning and we were both busy with work. With the roads in poor condition, our first date night opportunity morphed into crabby cabin fever couch potato-ing, since I had spent most of the past four days at home. We didn't end up returning the rental car until Wednesday morning, and since that was after the storm, we had to dig both cars out of the snow and drive them to the dealership. The commuter rail is closer to the car dealer, so I took that train to work instead and arrived about an hour late and $6 poorer after spontaneously buying a ticket on the train. Wednesday night I had a friend come pick me up and we went out to dinner, which had been previously arranged weeks before, but now Marc was getting anxious that we'd have no time together, as we needed to add a shiva call to the following day's already carefully orchestrated plans. Thursday morning saw Marc cramming in an inspection on our other car before attending our friend's father's funeral. I couldn't attend the funeral due to back-to-back morning meetings with clients, but I really did want to make the shiva call, so I figured out how to take a bus to the location, or so I thought, so I could get there earlier. Only the bus driver was ignorant of how the route worked and told me to get out far earlier than necessary, and I ended up walking a long distance on snow-covered sidewalks and not getting there as early as I'd anticipated. Meanwhile Marc was stressed out, arguing with the guy who rear-ended us about the cost of the car repairs, and his stress boiled over into an argument with me. Another date night was derailed, and though we eventually made it to a late movie, we were so frazzled and exhausted that we got up late on Friday morning and Marc ended up having to drive me to work.

Our only salvation? The kids' flight home on Friday was canceled, and they stayed in Arkansas an extra day. Marc and I finally got a decent dinner and time alone together on Friday night, after we picked up the repaired car in a major rain and lightning storm. By that point, having gotten through all of the craziness of the past few days, the time together felt extremely indulgent and wonderful.

It's now Sunday night. The kids are back home, both cars are appropriately repaired or inspected, and we're on track for a more normal week ahead. Hopefully a week with fewer bumps in the road.

Untitled

I'm in another blogging funk. After wrapping up The Having It All Project, I haven't felt inspired to write again. It was such a big endeavor, and I'm so proud of the fact that I convinced 51 people to share their lives with me. It wasn't easy asking people, and at times I felt really uncomfortable asking. It was those really big asks that made me most uncomfortable, and that you actually didn't end up seeing, because they said no.

Obviously I, of all people, get being busy. It is the name of the blog, after all. I say no sometimes too. No, I can't volunteer at the class Valentine's Day party. No, I can't squeeze that class in right now, given my commitment to Listen To Your Mother Boston. But when it's an individual asking me to do an individual task for that direct person? I try really hard to say yes, to find a pocket of time. So being rejected by those people, mainly strangers with blogs that are more successful than mine, really stung.

The sting hurts most when I see those same people lamenting a seemingly golden age of social media, that they say no longer exists. When everyone knew everyone, and blog comments were easy to come by, and conferences were small and you met your best friend and you got your next business deal or book deal just by being in the right place at the right time. I feel a bit late to the party, and I'm jealous.

I also know that this space will always be last place on my list, behind everything else that's important in my life, and it stinks knowing my last place efforts will mean that it never really has time to become something more. But it did bring me to Listen To Your Mother, and I sit in awe that Jessica, Phyllis and I have been entrusted with this amazing gift and these important stories. And I know that I'm always drawn back to writing here, always starting posts even if they remain unfinished, always filtering my life and experiences through this lens.

Maybe it's just the harshness of this winter. Or it's the boredom of spending too much time inside with semi-sickness and snow. Or not having enough to look forward to. Whatever it is, I'll come back, eventually. I always do.

Max's Valentine's Day creation

50 Lessons Learned from The Having It All Project

Just over a year ago, I started The Having It All Project because the media narratives on the subject just weren't enough for me. Whether you believe you can have it all or that having it all is a myth, my thesis was that most people have enough of however they chose to define "all." When it comes down to it, we're living life on the best terms we can figure out for ourselves and our families.

I was confident that in doing these interviews, we'd have something we can learn from each other. At the same time, no one person can tell us how to live our lives for optimal satisfaction--we're all just living life the best way we knew how. I tried hard to find diverse points of view and present people from all walks of life. In the fifty interviews presented below, most are parents but a few are not (parents aren't the only ones trying to balance a lot!). The interviewees are married, single, divorced, widowed, gay and straight, biological parents and adoptive parents, parents of multiples and parents of only children, special needs parents and parents coping with their own issues, stay-at-home parents and working parents of both sexes, across the economic spectrum and from all over the U.S., Canada and England. They are list-makers and laissez faire. They thrive on routine and revel in spontaneity. They are living the life the imagined and the life they could never have possibly dreamed.

In chronological order, here are 50 lessons learned from The Having It All Project. Obviously, I'm teasing out just one great point below, so be sure to click through and read all the original interviews!

1. Allison embraced flexible childcare by using morning hours with her nanny and finding accommodating daycare.
2. James is on a senior non-partner track at his law firm so he can make it home for dinner most evenings, and loves his Google Calendar.
3. Liz says that to manage her work-life juggle, she's upfront with her employer about what she needs, be it telecommuting or adjusted hours.
4. Lynne relished her independence before adopting her daughter, but now she can't imagine life without her daughter's busy schedule of extracurricular activities.
5. Liz, primary breadwinner in her family, lives in a messy house but wrote a book on top of her full-time job, staying true to her priorities.
6. Alison works from home, avoiding a commute, and takes her preteen daughter out for breakfast on her own to make special time just for them.
7. Leslie and Adrian, parents of four, try to keep life simple, carpool, and sometimes, just complain out loud and then move on to get past the tough moments.
8. Carla looks to her friends for balance role models, and realizes that when you're sick, all the rules can go out the window.
9. Jessica often has to "fly solo" when her husband travels, so she's learned to slow down and take things one at a time when she's managing her kids and work on her own.
10. Eleanor embraces technology, like the reminders app and lists for groceries and errands, and isn't afraid to schedule date night when calendars get chaotic.
11. Carol followed the un-schooling model for her teenage stepchildren and, as a minister, carves out time to attend to her own spiritual needs.
12. Sharon's family uses a "reset button" for when the chaos level gets too high, and recognizes that having it all is pretty easy when you have the right perspective.
13. David tends to get involved in too many volunteer efforts, but is working to curb his "Fear of Missing Out" and scheduling more downtime to recharge with his cat.
14. Kimberly acknowledges she's been able to pursue success at work due to her children's great daycare experiences and her husband's hands-on parenting.
15. Al sings along with the car radio, enjoys a cathartic cry, and knows he's never more than 24 hours away from his next Dunkin' Donuts extra large coffee.
16. Danielle, mother of four girls and lawyer with a home-based practice, learned that she can't schedule appointments before 10 am if she wants mornings to go smoothly.
17. Naomi gets lots of help from her extended family so that she is able to work as a Creative Strategist and run a side business of balloon twisting.
18. Nanette's family relies on routines and rituals to curb the chaos, particularly observing Shabbat and sharing their "WOW of the Week."
19. Audrey, a stay-at-home mom, knows that it's okay to have a sitter come in sometimes so that she can have some "me" time too.
20. Kristopher had a rough first day back at work after being a stay-at-home dad to his twins for the first two years of their life, and was able to negotiate a flexible schedule.
21. Lyette never thought she'd get married and finds some of domestic life difficult, but she handled a rough stomach bug-traveling-snowstorm situation with grace.
22. Emma has learned to avoid caffeine, situations that are highly disorganized, and experiences where she can't tap into her own creative energy and spirit.
23. Faun, a work-life balance expert, says it's better to serve Cheerios for dinner and be able to focus on talking to her children than cook an elaborate meal and be too tired to listen.
24. Marc believes in "logistical bankruptcy," meaning that sometimes you have to stop planning, do what you can do, and let go of the rest.
25. Astrid cobbled together her career as a virtual assistant and a Zumba instructor, and prioritizes getting enough sleep!

 26. Monina, a single mom, has been handed more than her share of lemons in life, but now? She's living life exactly how she wants.
27. Gina shared some of the challenges of navigating open adoption after foster care, and uses her experience with sexual assault to educate others.
28. T.J., an Army pilot whose helicopter was on fire over Baghdad, Iraq, knows how not to sweat the small stuff and take life one bite at a time.
29. Allison works with parents of special needs or quirky kids, and reminds us not to be ten years or even ten steps ahead of ourselves, but to practice in the moment mindfulness.
30. Rachel's family made a big move in support of her husband's career, and shares a Disney World experience that proves it's not the happiest place on Earth for everyone.
31. Mrs. Mac, our anonymous attorney from across the pond, shows us that life as a working parent isn't all that different in other parts of the world.
32. Casey, half of a two-mom family, tries to keep things simple, and admits that though it's easy to lose balance just after you've found it, life totally rules.
33. Kristen builds in a few minutes of meditation into every hour, and tries to focus on building a fun and healthy life for her and her daughter.
34. Danielle came back from a difficult time in her life to realize that she's needed here, and now tries to make time for herself so that she can be a better mom and have the career she wants.
35. Sarah's boss said she wasn't paid enough to be that emotional and upset about work, so she's learned to sleep on it when she has to make a big decision or react to a challenge.
36. Elaine taught herself web design skills and built her business from scratch, and wants her children to see what it looks like for her to fail, to succeed, and to be in limbo.
37. Jeanette, a military kid who moved a lot, now tries to stick to a meticulous routine with her children, to give them the same sense of stability. (Oh, and she's dangerous.)
38. Rachel transitions from work mode to parent mode several times a day, but still makes time for her own "extracurricular" activities.
39. Michelle, a mom, college professor and part-time PhD student, plans and makes time for the freakouts that are bound to happen, and has a true partner in her husband.
40. Hollie uses music to help transform her mood, and survived an interstate move while her family coped with lice!
41. Heidi's family adheres to five week meal plans (my favorite tip of the whole series!) and admits that she loves working while under pressure.
42. Kristina struggled with postpartum mood disorders after her first of three daughters was born, but got treatment and went from surviving to thriving as a parent. Now she helps others do the same.
43. Meredith's daughter had a health scare that she got through by compartmentalizing and simply because she had to, and knows the only "right way" to do things is the way that works for you.
44. Vincent realized he was out of sync with his infant daughter and reduced his workload to accommodate both her needs and his own.
45. Jessica admits that her house can be a complete disaster, but she doesn't let it stress her out, and encourages her husband to take on more of the "invisible labor" in running a family.
46. Kate manages a chronic and progressive nerve disorder that can make everyday motions more of a challenge, but she works hard to take things one moment at a time.
47. Phyllis lives across the country from her extended family, so she's worked hard to create a community of friends that she can rely on like family.
48. Melanie took a year for an intense journey of self discovery to figure out a new career path now that her youngest child started kindergarten.
49. Diane realized her family tended to break down in the mornings, and that if TV during breakfast was the solution, she was going to embrace it!
50. Robin, whose family theme song is "Crazy Train," has learned it's important to be able to ask for help as well as accept that help in whatever form it comes in.

A HUGE thank you to all 51 Having It All Project participants. Thank you for opening up and sharing your lives with us all. Your words have inspired people more than you know, including me.

Relate to what the Having It All Project is saying? Leave it some love in the comments. Read other posts from The Having It All Project here. Want to participate? Send me an email at havingitallproject@gmail.com.

Working (Mom) Moment: In the Audience

Fourth Grade Concert

The best part of my week has been sitting in the audience. On Tuesday night, I was honored to be at Hannah's fourth grade choir and instrumental concert, and on Wednesday afternoon, I watched one of my bosses take part in a panel discussion at a swanky hotel with a celebrity moderator.

It feels like yesterday that I was the one who needed a freshly ironed white shirt, or my treasured pale yellow Orchard Ensemble T-shirt, or the polyester but formal-looking black dress we wore for high school concerts. As you can probably guess, I *loved* these concerts. I was good at singing and really enjoyed doing it (I still do, and wish it was a bigger part of my life today). I'd practice my choir songs in front of my bedroom mirror, keeping my hands at my side and enunciating the final consonants. Now, it's Hannah's turn, and I've found I love being in the audience even more than when I was up there myself. I love the misplayed notes, I love that kids still sing washed his face in a frying pan "Old Dan Tucker," I love the corny choreography. But more than all that, I love the sense of pride and accomplishment that taking part in an event like this instills in kids. Sitting in the audience, my heart was bursting in pride for all of them.

I attended the panel discussion at the last minute, not realizing I was going to be accompanying him despite having helped prepare him for the discussion. Panels are tough, because participants are expected to be experts in their field but not actually sell the products they manage. Most of the time, we focus on what makes us unique, and remembering to stick to the general is challenging. But it all went well: the other panelists were interesting and covered diverse points of view, the moderator was clearly a pro, and my boss did well and was happy to have me there supporting him. And again, I was proud, just getting to sit in the audience.

So often, we wish we were the ones at the center of attention, on display and heard by the masses. This week was a good reminder that being in the audience and actively listening can be a real joy too.

The (GIANT) Israel Post

Hannah, me and Max, watching the sun set in Tel Aviv

To make a very long story short, I will say the following: our trip to Israel was amazing. Fantastic. Life-altering. The realization of a long-held dream and goal for Marc and me. Unforgettable and unrepeatable.

I literally took 1000 pictures, and you can see them all at my Flickr photostream. My new camera was a joy, even though I barely knew how to use it, and I loved capturing as many moments as I could.

I've struggled with how best to tell this story, as I realize it's just too many stories. So this is going to be the highlights for me, and I'm sure in future posts, I'll go into more detail on certain aspects of the trip. That will be one way for me to stave off the depression that the trip is already part of my past, and not the longed for future anymore.

The four of us arrived in Israel late on Thursday evening, and had three days on our own before we were joined by another 75 members of Temple Emanuel. Marc and I really wanted the kids to have the experience of a Shabbat in Jerusalem, since so much shuts down in a way that doesn't happen anywhere else.This turned out to be an unexpectedly good turn of events, as we had time to do some exploring on our own, but we also had time to simply rest. We took naps and adjusted to the time change, and when the main part of our trip began, we were ready for it.

In Jerusalem, we stayed at the Leonardo Plaza Hotel, which was an easy walk into the Jewish Quarter of the Old City. Walking there was the first thing we did on Friday morning. We got to experience the rare snow in Jerusalem. As we walked, the kids were fascinated by the differences (all of the golden stone work) and the similarities (it still feels like a city, not something they couldn't identify with). We finally turned a corner and saw the iconic view of the Kotel (the Western Wall), and Max pulled on me saying, "we're really in Jerusalem now."

Hannah's and my hands

I was completely overcome as we approached the wall, and I'm actually teary as I write this. For as much as I participate in Jewish life, I don't think of myself as deriving much from the actual prayer and spiritual experiences. But standing outside the barriers (men and women are separated at the wall), with my little family, knowing that families just like mine have traveled here together for thousands of years to touch the stones, well, I found it hard just to breathe. I was overwhelmed by gratefulness in that moment, that we had actually done it, we brought our once hypothetical children to this place, as a family, to experience the interconnectedness of generations to this place. I will never, ever forget it.

Max, in blue, putting his prayers in the wall.

On our second visit with our group.

An historic moment: as a family, touching the newly-excavated section of the Kotel, expanded for pluralistic prayer experiences.

Now, on to the rest of the trip. I'll never finish this post if I write about everything, so here are pictures with captions, and you'll just have to trust me that it was all amazing.

Shabbat lunch purchased the day before at Mechane Yehuda, including the best pita ever.

With the "ahava" (love) sculpture at the Israel Museum

Services atop Mt. Masada

Camel riding at Genesis Land (Hannah is in orange)

The Church of the Holy Sepulchre on Christmas Eve

Ethan and Max's hotel room shofar blow off

Exploring Tsfat

Hannah and Julia after our jeep tour of the Golan

Jocelyn and Hannah after dinner at a Druze village

The Baha'i Gardens in Haifa

Israeli dancing at a Haifa elementary school

Getting ready for Shabbat in Tel Aviv

Shabbat afternoon walk along the Mediterranean Sea

Dates at Tel Aviv's Levinsky Market

Exploring Latrun with some Israeli soldiers

And finally, a quick hello to Big Ben on our London layover.

So that's the really, really high level version of events. Believe it or not, but there are things we did that aren't even in the pictures above! It was a very busy trip. Just how I like it.

A huge thank you to everyone at Temple Emanuel who helped make our dream a reality, especially Michelle, Terri, Wayne and Ilene, and our excellent guides Abraham, Bill and Tal from Da'at. It was such a pleasure getting to travel with everyone, deepening friendships and creating new ones.

All of us!

The only question that remains? When can we all go back?

A Cougher's Lament

I'm a cougher. I have been one for basically as long as I can remember. I remember getting sick and coughing a lot in college. My roommates and I would pass colds between ourselves, but I'd always be coughing for weeks longer than everyone else. I've learned that's what my body likes to do. I always thought I eventually stopped coughing, but probably not for very long before I'd get another cold again.

At many points in my life, I've had family members, friends and coworkers annoyed by my persistent coughing. My dad, who doesn't really intervene much in my life, would notice it and mention it when I'd be home for a visit. My mother-in-law has told me that I'm lucky not to be knocked out by my upper respiratory issues. Every once in a while, my back would even be annoyed by my coughing, despite being so much better than it was before my surgery.

And it's probably because of what I went through with my back, and other diabetes issues and thus high-risk pregnancies and so on and so forth that I've tended to ignore the cough. I've had enough pressing medical issues to deal with and maintain that I didn't really want another one. I try never to be far from a glass of water, and cough as needed.

I was sick again some time in the fall, I can't even remember exactly when, but nothing too serious. The usual coughing was happening. But the cold went away, and the cough didn't. It was annoying enough that I started to pay more attention. Life was busy, and I figured the cough would go away when we spent two weeks in Israel and drier air. It didn't go away. So after various snow days and taking the kids to their own doctor for their annual well visits, I finally booked an appointment for myself. I worried/prayed the cough would magically disappear in time for my appointment, but of course it didn't.

After a thorough line of questioning, my doctors think that one of the medications I've been taking for preventative diabetes-related reasons has caused the cough. I've been taking it since 2009, and it's a side effect of the drug. The plan is to stop taking the medication for six weeks, and see how the cough is then.

I should be thrilled. Not only does the treatment not require additional medical intervention, but it actually gives me a reason to cease another medical intervention. That's a good thing. But I'm mostly just frustrated. I hate that I don't want to go to the doctor for fear of having another thing wrong with me. I hate the idea that taking one of my medications, something that's supposed to help me, has actually done me some other harm. I hate that most of the time there's not a lot we can do when a doctor says we need something; we take it, hope for the best. I hate that I never, ever, ever get a break from diabetes, that it is my constant companion for the rest of my life, that it or complications from it will most likely ultimately end my life.

Before today, it was just a cough. Now it's a symbol, a signifier of so much more.

I really hope it goes away.

Long Day

We have to use a buzzer to get into the school after hours now, for aftercare pick up. There's a light that shines out into the late-afternoon darkness, and I imagine us parents look like shadowy figures at best. I'm wrong though. The aftercare director has caught me mid-yawn, and tells my daughter that I need a nap.

---

I had the kids take the bus home some random afternoon, when we were anticipating snow. This year our ability to cope with snow seems incredibly diminished. I've always been anxious about dealing with the snow, but it sounds like the rest of society, or at least the weather forecasters, has caught up to my level of fear. Now, everyone is shutting everything down all the time. Max doesn't ever take the bus home, and I don't think he understood that it was because of impending snow. The next day, he asks if he can take the bus home every day.

---

I'm back at aftercare pick-up. Max is making a snowflake, but has cut the wrong side of the paper and it's more of a skinny X than an intricate, symmetrical design. "It's a long day," the teacher tells me. I internalize this failed snowflake, but tell Max it's just like every other snowflake out there: perfectly unique.

---

My mind works in song lyrics.

"It's a long day, living in the suburbs,
When you don't have, time to play in the yard.
I'm a bad mom, cuz I can't be at the bus stop,
I'm a bad mom, cuz I'm breaking his heart."

I cry as I walk to the train in the early-morning darkness.

Linking up with Just Write #119 at The EO