A Mom's Life

This is the beginning of my second week of my summer home with the kids. Those who learn of my work schedule always say to me, "You are so lucky to be off from work during the summer!" And, I agree. At home, I wear pjs and work out clothes all day, I can be outside during the three sunny days of the year and occasionally can catch Dr. Oz. And let's face it, I can't give my co-workers a time out or hand them a cheese stick to get them to be quiet and leave me alone for a few minutes. I've written before about Andy's overt jealousy about my part-time status and his multitude of references to my "bon-bon summer". I think he envisions what it would be like for him to have an eight week hiatus from the office and all of the projects he'd accomplish and all of the lawns he'd mow. Thanks to his delusions of grandeur, he is often concerned when he arrives home and I haven't accomplished the wifely responsibilities he'd planned for me that day...

This post was inspired by my muffin top today. YOU KNOW YOU'VE HAD A BABY WHEN: 10. Your pre-baby fat pants are now your post-baby skinny jeans. 9. You are searching through a mom friend's bathroom for a Tylenol and you spot a clear, plastic squirt bottle and you know exactly what it was used for. 8. You are psyched that your stomach muscles are strong enough again to suck in but in doing so your belly button disappears between two rolls which look a lot like a deflated balloon animal. 7. Hearing Johnny Cash's song "Ring of Fire" triggers PTSD. 6. Again, you can use the metaphor "deflated balloon" to describe several other parts of your body. 5. You've looked pain and fear square in the face, called it a mother f%^&*$r, told yourself, "Well! I'll never do THAT again!" and find yourself in a room with pain and fear 2, 3, or 4 years later. 4.(Unless you are a freak)Have somebody poop or pee on your chest and you're too overwhelmed...

When I met Andy in graduate school his diet consisted of Hot Pockets and Coke. His weekly routine involved going to class, studying, going to the bar, smoking butts and talking on his cell phone. That time for me was one of particular neurosis. Like many twenty-somethings, I had no idea what to do with my life or how to get there. My lack of control over most things led to control issues over the small stuff. Therefore, my diet consisted of sugar-free hot chocolate, salad and too much alcohol. My weekly routine included going to class, studying, running and stressing out. We were two polar opposites, of course attracted to one another because of our differences. A decade later and over time our extreme behaviors softened. With my support Andy stopped smoking (ok- I threatened him), switched to drinking Diet Coke and has added new foods to his diet, including a limited amount of fruit and veggies and also a glass of water or two a day. Thanks to Andy, I have stopped obsessing about what...

Years ago, when I started running, it was no walk in the park. Evolutionarily speaking, I didn't think my body was built for endurance exercise. I started by running one lap around my college track. I remember it clear as day. It was spring of my senior year and my friend and former roommate (a runner) encouraged me to get rid of the freshman fifteen by taking a few laps with her. That first quarter of a mile was the longest jog of my life. I felt like I'd never make it around the circle. And, what a pain! When I got to where I started, she told me to do it again! As a compromise, I walked a lap and then ran a lap. All in all that day I may have clocked about a mile but it was a start. As I continued to run (or really jog), I continued to have the same sensation: that every step was like trying to pull myself through quick sand. But I set some goals, like walk a lap, run a lap, walk a minute, run 10 minutes, etc. and after a summer, I managed to run five miles without stopping....

If you give a todller a sippy cup, she will throw it on the floor. When you give her back the cup, she'll shake it upside down on her tray. Then she'll throw it back on the floor. You'll have to tell her "all done." She'll start to tear up, ball her fists and cry "NOOOOO!" She'll point at it with her finger. You'll give in and hand it to her. When she's all done eating she'll want to get out of her chair to play. Except she'll see an old piece of macaroni in the chair. When she's all done eating it, she'll want another piece. She'll ask you for more. Then you'll heat her more mac and she'll see the strawberries in the fridge. Seeing the strawberries will make her crave fruit. She'll rock her chair, bounce up and down and say, "berry, berry." You'll cut up some fruit. Once she has the fruit, she'll squish it between her fingers. You'll get her a wet paper towel. She'll probably put ...

Last week my office hosted a dining etiquette seminar for our students. Our guest speaker for the evening, Robert Shutt from R.A Solutions, is dynamic and knowledgeable and the students always benefit from the presentation. As I sat through this year's session, like most of the students at my table, I giggled nervously as I sipped my soup and fumbled with the napkin on my lap. A few students at the table told me that their parents enforced dining decorum each evening at the family dinner table and it made me think about meals in my home. While I've participated in similar dining events for nearly a decade and have put the rules into practice at several work-related meals, I realized that I completely check professional dining etiquette at the door step of our house. As a matter of fact, not only do we not practice anything remotely like what Robert recommends, we have established our very own rules at the Marietta table- it's what I like to call Mariettaquette. So that you ...

Today, a colleague of mine, who I've not seen in several weeks, commented on my new pixie hair cut. "Wow! You got your hair cut!" he said, "It reminds me of, oh, what's that Saturday Night Live Skit? Oh, you know, Pat! It's very androgynous." This is not the first time that someone has suggested that I look more like a man than a woman and frankly, I've been confused with being a dude on several occasions. From being called "Sir" repeatedly by a waiter to being cross-examined by the town clerk when applying for a marriage license, being mistaken for a man is not new to me. Before I start my rant on gender I just want to stop for a moment and talk about why some people are incapable of giving a good compliment. I wonder if, or when, it occurred to him that calling me Pat wasn't going to make me feel good about my appearance. I would have liked to hear that my haircut was very Halle Berryesque or that it really showed off my pixie-like fe...