Please Don't Go (think KC and the Sunshine Band)

After getting my e-mail about wanting to quit, my boss called me into his office and said the following:

I love you
Yeah Babe, I love you so
I want you to know
That I'm going to miss your love
The minute you walk out that door
(Chorus)
So please don't go
Don't go
Don't go away
Please don't go
Don't go
I'm begging you to stay
If you leave
At least in my lifetime
I've had one dream come true
I was blessed to be loved
By someone as wonderful as you

OK, so he didn't exactly say "I love you" or that he was "blessed to be loved" by me since that would be super weird and creepy but the general theme was similar to the chorus...he didn't want me to go.

But he was very respectful of my decision and asked only that I consider an arrangement that would allow for him to reach out to me for distinct projects in the future (which I'm considering).

So for the next few weeks I'm going to be doing my work and trying to organzie seven years of projects and programs into neat little folders and appropriately named files!

Fun, fun, fun.

For Better or For Worse

I did it. I finally did it. I quit my job tonight. I e-mailed my boss when I got home and I told him that I would be doing a disservice to him, my company and my family if I went through with the new schedule that I had proposed (and he agreed to) knowing all along that it wouldn't work. I said that I would rather leave on good terms than go through with a transition that would frustrate both of us.

You see, he expects so much from me and I also expect a great deal from myself when it comes to my work. I don't know how to do it half way. That's a strange thing to say for someone who's been working "part-time" for three years. But my part-time schedule has been robust enough that I've been able to do the job of a full time person. I've lead complex projects and critical company efforts successfully and have been able to be available whenever necessary.

But now I want something different for my life. I want to have more time with my husband and children and I want to explore new prospects and professional possibilities. I just want to be free of this job. It's been seven years of good times and bad and I'm ready to leave.

I know tomorrow will not be fun. But I will stand by my decision!

It's time.

The Age of Why

I've recently been spending a lot of time answering the question "why." I'm thrilled that my son is so curious about the world but the constant questions are starting to drive me nuts! I mean really, how many whys can I possibly answer. The first few are always pretty easy but then it gets into crazy territory.

Here is a conversation I had literally five seconds ago:

son: "mommy, where is uncle A?"

me: "he went home."

son: "Why?"

me: "Because he came to visit for a few days and now he has to go to his own house."

son: "Why?"

me: "Because he likes his house."

son: "Why?"

me: "Because all of his stuff is in his house."

son: "Why?"

me: "Because just like you have your toys in our house, he has his thing in his own house."

son: [you guessed it] Why?

Every time the WHY marathon begins, I'm determined to go toe to toe with him. I keep answering the questions thinking that I can outlast him but I repeatedly underestimate his stamina. He, very much like the energizer bunny, keeps going and going and going!

I haven't done it yet, but I'm THIS close to stooping down to the the level of saying in my outside voice, "BECAUSE I SAID SO!"

Clean Shaven Legs

It's Saturday night and I'm exhausted. Things have been so busy these days that I feel like I'm just rushing through the day from one thing to another with no time to sit back and enjoy any one of them.

Today, I was so mixed up that I went to a birthday pool party an hour EARLY! I was standing there with my son looking around and wondering why no one else was there (we were supposed to meet at the pool of an apartment building complex). Then when I called my friend, I thought it was strange that she sounded surprised to hear from me and said that she wasn't ready yet but would come and get me at the pool as soon as she could. Aren't we supposed to meet out here? Why isn't she here already? It took me a good three minutes to figure it out. Duh! I'm super early.

She kindly let us hang out in her apartment as she got ready for the party. I felt so bad. This is not how I imagined coming to her place for the first time.

It gets better. I was in such a rush this morning that I forgot to shave my legs for the party (it had been on my to do list for days but I just hadn't gotten to it!). But this was a pool party and my son would surely want me to go in the pool with him. After a few minutes of thinking about the awkwardness of what I was about to do, I asked my friend in a sheepish voice if I could borrow a razor to shave my legs. Yup, I did! I figured I had an hour before any of the other guests arrived so I might as well squeeze in one of my to dos.

That's what my life has come to. I don't even have time to shave my legs!!

So there I was in my friend's bathroom shaving my legs and thinking about how crazy I was when I just started laughing at myself (you know what they say about laughing so you don't cry!).

The rest of the day was one event after another...and now it's 10:30 pm and I'm about to pass out from exhausted.

My one big consolation...I have clean shaven legs!

It's The Little Things

Tonight I went to a neighborhood party and it was actually fun! Nothing crazy happened. We ate, drank, talked and laughed. Neither of the boys had any kind of meltdown, they both ate something and neither of them got into any kind of scuffle with any of the other dozen or so toddlers at the party. They're just getting to that age when the two of them can each play and have enough direction from us to be "good" boys (or at least have the potential to be).

So I'm happy. I'm just happy that we could be at a social gathering, that I could talk to a few people without interruption, that my boys played by themselves a little without any controversy or tears, and that my husband was so helpful.

It may not seem like much to some but to me, it was a monumental evening.

It's the little things that make me happy these days.

I'm Sorry, Armpits Are Just Funny

My friend Kate from The Big Piece of Cake called me today to tell me how funny she thought my No Armpits Please post was, and then we then spent the next 20 minutes just laughing about armpits and armpit stories.

After we got off the phone, I thought about how fun this blog has been. Even though only a handful of lovely ladies read my blog (BTW, did I tell you how much I love you for reading my blog handful-of-lovely ladies?!!), sharing my stories with them has been incredibly rewarding.

Someone asked me several months ago when I started the blog why I felt the need to put my thoughts on the Internet and why I didn't just write in a journal. Well, I told them, when you're sharing your thoughts with someone outside of yourself, it forces you to articulate your thoughts more thoroughly than if you were just going to write for yourself.

Now I realize it does SO much more than that. It not only helps makes you strive to be more thoughtful and funny about what you write, it also creates an opportunity for you to connect with amazing women that you would never have had the chance to meet or get to know otherwise.

So to all of you who have ever commented on this blog and who have not gotten a response or an e-mail from me, please know that your comment absolutely meant something to me. Sometimes I just don't know what to say and err on the side of saying nothing because I'm afraid to say something silly or worse, meaningless.

I want to say a big thank you to you all!

No Armpits Please

Ladies, please don't show off your armpits. It's a private area and should not be displayed!

I understand that it gets really hot in the summer and sometimes you want to wear a pretty dress or top that happens to be sleeveless to work or a formal event. Go ahead. Wear it. But please, I beg you, resist the urge to stretch your arms above your head or lean back in your chair casually and put your hands behind your head while in contemplation. You see, when you do that, you expose your naked armpit to the world and that's just not right.

And it's not just women (although you'll be hard pressed to find a man wearing a sleeveless shirt to work or a formal event! Can you even imagine that?) If a man ever did such a thing I'd be equally disturbed.

I have nothing against armpits generally, especially if they're nicely maintained (you know what I'm talking about ladies). I just think armpits are an area of the woman's body that should not be exposed. I think they are awkward, intimate and mildly sensual in nature (not to me but I know to some - warning, do not click on the link if you are an armpit prude) and therefore totally inappropriate for exposure in work or formal environments.

Lastly, I hate the word "armpit"...couldn't they come up with a less crass name? We don't call the area where our legs attach to our bodies legpits. The "pit" part of the word reminds of a slimy hard center of a fruit that you're awkwardly holding in your hand while looking for the trash after you've finished eating the delicious part...I know, lovely image.

Now, if I could remember to follow my own advice!

Go Ahead And Touch

As some of you might remember, last July 4th, I was involved in an embarrassing touching incident for which I was mortified for weeks!

In case you were wondering whatever happened with the woman in question, I have some good news to share, she just invited me to a party at her house.

Apparently, it pays to touch!

LOL

Wanting More is Good

Tonight, I'd like to send you to a beautiful post I just read by a blogger named AnyMommy. The post is called the Space Between and in it, this wonderful writer talks about the gap between the mother she is and the mother she wants to be...which, like for many of us, can be pretty big.

The gap is certainly large for me. I wish I could tell you that I'm happy with the mother I am. But I can't. I'm constantly thinking about how I should give my children more time, more attention, more patience, more guidance and even more love.

I wish I could tell you that I'm happy with the wife I am. But I can't do that either. I know that I could be a lot more patient with my husband and not as demanding and yes, bossy (as my family constantly reminds me that I am! Thanks y'all).

I wish I could tell you that I'm happy with the sister, daughter, friend, neighbor...and dozens other things that I am to different people. But again...the answer is that I CAN'T.

But I don't think it's bad that I can't. In fact, I'm thrilled (OK, thrilled might not be the perfect word but let's go with it for now for dramatic effect) that I'm not happy with myself in terms of all these relationships and roles. I'm happy because I know that as long as I'm unhappy, I'll be striving to be better. And that's how I want to live my life.

It might sound crazy but striving to be better is one of the best things I have going for me. I'm not great at a lot of things but at least I'm constantly trying (with admittedly only periodic success) to be a better version of me.

And in the end, I think wanting a better version is a great start: wanting more of yourself, wanting more of others and wanting more from life. That is, as long as you know that success comes with the true effort to get more and not necessarily with "more" itself.

Post Holiday Sunday Night Blues

Sunday night after a long wonderful holiday (what am I British? I mean vacation) is the most depressing time.

You just spent numerous wonderful days away from it all and even if it wasn't exactly the picture of relaxation (is there such a thing with toddlers?) you still had so much fun. You were in the sun, you went swimming, you played with the kids on the beach, and you pretty much ate and drank whatever you wanted (well almost whatever, you still had to fit in to your jeans to go home)! You almost didn't think about work or the stresses of your daily life at all!

But suddenly, it's Sunday night and you have but a few short hours before you have to go back to work and the daily to-dos. Aarghhh!

Oh, maybe it won't be SO bad...in fact, after the first few hours, you'll probably start to enjoy the routine of it all!