I knew I was in trouble the instant my 2-year-old rubbed his face and then laid his damp little hand on my cheek. No symptoms yet, but the sign was clear: Cold and flu season has begun.

A few days later, he was streaming from the nose and I was wishing I’d bought stock in Purell. A few days after that, he was fine but I’d been felled by a fever so high even I had to call in to work (and, if you’ve been reading here for a while, you know I rarely ever call in sick). Read the rest of this entry »

I’m visiting my big kids and my in-laws right now — they live in the same town, which makes schlepping cross-country, if not easier, at least a good bit better — and while it’s not really a vacation, it’s as close to one as we get as a family, and so I usually just call it that.

So, I’m on vacation, kind of. And while there’s very little down time during these trips, one thing has become abundantly clear: I’ve forgotten how to relax. Read the rest of this entry »

I was filling my car up with gas last week (and having a minor heart attack because, my God, $55 to fill up the beater Saab I was driving that day? It’s like adding insult to injury) when the woman approached.

She looked to be in her late 40s. Windblown hair, flower-print blouse, minimal makeup. Looked like a harried mom who maybe needed help finding an obscure street in my tiny New England town. Looked like she was sure I’d say “No” if she asked me anything. So I made up my mind to say “Yes.”

“Excuse me, but can I ask you a question?”

“Yes!” I said brightly, one hand on the nozzle. My brothers like to joke that I can’t find my way out of a wet, upside-down, brown-paper bag, but if she needed directions, I would do my best.

“Have you ever thought about earning a little extra income from home?”

My first thought: Who hasn’t?

My second thought: Crrraaaaaap. She’s doing a sales pitch. And with the gas pump ticking away and my car keys in my pocket, I was a captive audience. It’s like a taking a call from a telemarketer times infinity, because you can’t really hang up on one when she’s standing in front of you. Read the rest of this entry »

On Monday, when Republican Vice Presidential nominee Sarah Palin confirmed that her 17-year-old daughter Bristol is five months pregnant, leaders of both political parties agreed that the situation was not for political consumption, with Democratic Presidential hopeful Barack Obama saying outright that the children and families of the candidates are “off limits.”

Makes sense. The kids didn’t choose to be in the public spotlight — their parents did. Their actions shouldn’t reflect on their parents’ qualifications or abilities. As many, many people have pointed out: Life happens. You deal with it.

That said, I think that if Bristol Palin and her pregnancy are “a private family matter” and off limits, 19-year-old Track and his decision to join the Army should be, too. Not to mention baby Trig and his special needs.

You can’t insist on excluding from debate the potential impact of a child who’s done something socially unacceptable if you’re willing to use another child’s “good” behavior or medical disability to bolster a candidate’s political image. If one kid is off limits, then all of the kids should be off limits. Read the rest of this entry »

When people talk about working mothers, it’s usually in the context of how we juggle work and family, how we want to maximize time with our kids, how we can (or can’t) have it all, daycare vs. hiring a nanny, and working at home vs. working out of the home vs. being a stay-at-home mom. What they don’t talk about, usually, is how having two parents who work full time impacts your relationship with your spouse.

I may not have much “me” time, but lately I’ve come to realize that my husband and I have had even less “we” time than usual. And that’s probably not a good thing. Read the rest of this entry »

I just got home from the airport. My three big kids are winging their way back to their mom and stepdad as I type this, and my husband and I have just tucked two heartbroken little kids into their beds. My husband is venting in the garage, working on one of his many car-related projects. I’m throwing myself into my work. The only things that makes this bearable is the fact that I know they had a fun summer and I know how excited they are to see their mom and stepdad again. The fact that there are people who love them dearly on both sides of this flight, people who have missed them the way we miss them now.

This stepmothering thing… you get used to it. You learn how to manage and juggle. But it never really gets easier. At least, it hasn’t for me, even nearly 10 years into it. Read the rest of this entry »

The hardest thing about working during my second pregnancy — aside from the fact that I had four kids at home for a good chunk of it — was my morning commute. I was constantly tired from either getting up in the middle of the night with my toddler (or, in the third trimester, from getting up to go to the bathroom every 37 minutes).

The second hardest thing about my second pregnancy was the way I felt that the size of my expanding body was indirectly proportional to my value as an employee. That is to say, I worried that people would see my enormous belly, notice that I was no longer walking so much as lumbering, and assume that I wouldn’t be able to do my job properly because I was pregnant. Read the rest of this entry »

With five kids, two parents who work full-time, a 75-pound black lab who sheds hair like he’s desperately trying to clone himself, no housekeeper, and my tendency to clutter, I don’t need to tell you that my house isn’t pristine. It’s not filthy — in terms of the National Study Group on Chronic Disorganization’s Clutter Hoarding Scale, we’re not more than a 1, the lowest score. But still, I wouldn’t happily eat off of the floor or anything. (My toddler is far less discriminating.)

The other day, my husband went on a cleaning tantrum. He started with the kitchen, moving things off the counter tops and scrubbing the stove and swabbing the backsplash with powerful detergents. He tossed the newspapers I’d left languishing in a pile on a chair and wiped down every surface he could find while I worked in the next room.

I was grateful. I was also mortified. I appreciated the fact that he recognized I was overloaded and couldn’t get to the cleaning myself, but still… it made me feel like I’d failed, somehow. Read the rest of this entry »

When I went back to work after having my first baby, I was working days while my husband worked nights. He’d hang out with our baby during the day, then take her in to the office at the start of his shift. My shift ended when his started, and he’d hand her off to me and I’d take her back home for what I called my Second Shift with the kids (my first baby was also our fourth child).

I often said that the thing that made returning to work after my first maternity leave most manageable, for me, was the knowledge that my baby was spending the day with her dad instead of with someone I didn’t already know and trust. So Carolyn Hax’s piece over at The Washington Post today really struck a chord with me. Read the rest of this entry »

I keep running lists of things I never thought I’d say as a parent. You know, things like “Don’t lick the microwave” and “Pennies are not for eating” and “No, you can’t ride the dog.” The other day, as I flaked dried applesauce off of the sleeve of my favorite black blazer, I looked at the “Dora the Explorer” bandage on my cut finger and decided to start another list: My top 10 signs you’re a working Mom.

So, with apologies to David Letterman (and possibly Jeff Foxworthy), you know you’re a working mom if…

1.) You put things you’ve already done on your to-do list, just so you have something to cross off immediately.

2.) You’ve lost weight, and you realize that it’s probably because all you’re eating is whatever is left on your toddler’s plate after dinner.

3.) You’ve gained weight, and you realize that it’s probably because you’re eating whatever is left on your toddler’s plate after dinner in addition to your own meal. Read the rest of this entry »