Last Day of School!

Huzzah! I am jazzed, because I have had my fill of packing lunches and homework and other craptastic school-year chores. Friday was the last day of school, and Awards Day for 4th and 5th grade. When I asked Katie if she was getting an award, she shrugged her shoulders and said "I dunno. I think for Odyssey of the Mind." So I went to the (very long) ceremony and sat on the butt numbing bleachers and watched her get her certificate for Odyssey of the Mind.

And then, she got one for making the Honor Roll all year.

And then, she got one for Most Outstanding Science Student. (Most!)

And then, she got one for Bus Rider of the Year for her bus (hollah, Bus 134!).

She's amazing, and humble, and I am hugely proud.

I took pictures of the ceremony, but again - lots of kids who did not sign a waiver to be featured on my moderately popular blog - so none posted here. However, here is Katie waking up on the last day of 4th grade (she is such a peach first thing in the morning), and having her last day of 4th grade breakfast with her new Nook. She had such a great year, we got it for her an an end of the year gift. She loves it!

Princess Pajama Party

A few weeks ago, Julia said to me "I want to have a Princess Pajama Party." I was in the middle of doing something really important (like whipping Sean's ass in Lexolous) and said something like "Oh, yeah. That sounds like fun."

"So when can we do it?"
"Oh, I don't know. One day."
"What about Saturday?"
"Well, not Saturday. We'd have to plan it and send out invitations."
"OK! Let's make invitations!"

And the next thing you know we are having a party for six or so four year olds, for no other reason than my own four year old is a master manipulator.

It was a blast. Everyone came in pajamas (that was the pajama part of the Princess Pajama Party). They dressed up and had their nails painted and had a very pink tea party and danced and squealed and screamed. Sean took Henry to the hardware store and Wal-Mart and cooked meat in the smoker, in an attempt to balance out the estrogen overload.

This morning, I asked Julia if she liked her party. She said "Yes! Next time I want to have a Princess AND Prince Party, so I can invite the boys, too."

"Oh, yeah? That sounds like fun."


"What about Saturday?"

*In the interest of privacy, I'm not posting pictures of the other girls. Trust that they were there, and adorable. 

Vice

Now that I no longer smoke, and rarely drink, and don't whore around with random strangers (not that I ever did that, but I could have), I have no good vices left to me.

Sloth is not an option with three kids. Covetousness? Bitch, please. I am living the Life of Riley here, what do I have to be jealous of? Gluttony - I have been known to throw down on some chow, but with pre-pregnancy weight in sight, I'm not even doing that. Lust - yeah, no. Too tired. Greed? Despair? Wrath? (well, maybe when someone doesn't replenish the damned toilet paper roll!) Pride?

Oh, Pride. I almost forgot about that one. Pride is a hard one, isn't it? Of course I have pride in my children. I take pride in making my home comfortable and clean and appealing. I am proud of my husband, for being such a hard worker and good father. But pride in myself is tricky - how to be proud while straddling the line between vanity and humility?

Writing this blog has been a hard and fast lesson in self promotion. It is something I'm both uncomfortable with, and alarmingly astute at. I post on Facebook, I have it in my signature at my long time message board, I printed it on calling cards, I write for other blogs. When people mention it, I try to be appropriately self effacing while at the same time encouraging them to share it with others. It is a lot of fucking work.

When I entered that contest at Circle of Moms (remember that? When I asked you shamelessly, over and over again, to vote for me?), I was a little surprised that I made it into the Top 25. I had to answer a short interview and send in a picture that will be published to their membership. I worked on the questions for an embarrassing amount of time, and took close to 20 pictures to get the right one. And then, I still had to run it all by a panel of friends for approval.

Which picture is better? Is my chin too pointy in that one? I should have colored my hair. What about that shirt? Does that shirt look weird? Are my nostrils two different sizes? Oh God, my nostrils are two different sizes!

All of this for a paragraph and a wee picture that will barely get any notice.

That is pride.

Pride is not knowing your assets, pride is wanting other people to know. Which makes the entire concept of a blog a practice in pride. Because if I didn't want you to read it, if I didn't want you to comment, if I didn't want you to keep coming back and sharing it with your friends, well - I'd keep a diary, wouldn't I?

Inside, Outside. It's All Work.

I struggled with working mommy angst for Katie's first three years of life. The day I quit my job, I very literally jumped for joy walking through the parking lot. Never again was I going to miss a milestone in my daughters' life. I would be there for every first, every field trip, every party. It was going to be so awesome, so perfect. I would be there, for everything.

Everyday.
All day.
By myself.
With a three year old.

It didn't take long for the novelty of staying in my pajamas until noon to wear off. Frankly, I didn't know what to do with her - or myself - all day. Staying at home was so completely different and I found myself lost and floundering. I was used to constant adult interaction at work, then a frenetic pace trying to get dinner and housework and quality interaction with my husband and child when I got home. What I had been squeezing into 2 hours, I now had 10 hours to to do.

I was bored. And lonely.

My entire adult life, I had relied on my job as my social network. Friendships were formed based on mutual like or dislike of the workplace, and cemented over drinks after work. When I stopped working, I no longer had much in common with those people, and phone calls became more strained and less frequent. "So, we're getting ready for this big meeting on Monday and trying to get the TPS reports ready." "Oh, yeah? Well you should have seen the POOP my kid had today! Hahahaha!"

Eventually, they stopped calling.

I felt like I lost my identity. I went from being someone who was kind of important to someone who was a slave to a toddler. My boss went from being a tyrannical 60 year old man to a tyrannical 3 year old girl. At least the man didn't require me to fix his lunch or wipe his butt. I was "just a mom." At the same time, I didn't know how to break into those mommy circles. Those women at the park with their well packed diaper bags and monogrammed lunch boxes and conversations about consignment sales and girls night out. I wanted to be one of them, but I just didn't know how.

Then I met G. She invited me to a church playgroup event. And another one, and another one. She kept calling me and introducing me to everyone she knew. She'd always say things like "Come with me" and "Meet me", always making me feel like I was there with her, not someone who just wandered in by myself. She made me part of the group. The women she introduced me to in those first few months are today, 7 years later, my best friends.

Like any major change, going from working mom to stay at home mom is not an easy transition. Even after meeting G, it took considerable effort on my part. Every mom knows the challenges of just getting out of the door with a kid, and how sometimes it's just easier to stay at home. Getting everyone dressed, fed, changed, snacks packed, strollers, jackets...the endless list of items required for travel with a young child. But I had to do it, or I'd spend my days in the basement playroom playing Candyland and eating fruit snacks.

My best advice to moms making the switch - meet other moms. Whether it be through a MOPS organization or a church playgroup, hanging by the pool or at library storytime. Search out events and go, even when you don't think you want to. Invest in personal calling cards and hand them out liberally. Embrace being "just a mom", and recognize all the rewards that come with it. And if you're a seasoned stay at home mom and you see a woman at the park looking lonely and lost, go introduce yourself. You might be just the friend she needs.