Yesterday the inmates ran the prison and it was insanely fantastic.  July 4th falling on a Wednesday created the perfect storm for our family.  Most of the 4th was spent knocking out housework typically reserved for the weekend which meant that there wasn’t much in the way of cleaning to be done come Saturday.  On top of that because it is a holiday weekend and about 150 degrees in Phoenix no one was in town.  This translated into no games, practices, play dates, family visits, birthday parties, or chores.  Nada.

When I had the idea to start an organic baby food company, I struggled with coming up with the perfect name for the brand. I settled on Happy Baby (which later evolved into Happy Family) because, honestly, my first choice – Fresh Start – was taken. Also, let’s face it, everyone wants to be happy and perhaps more importantly, everyone wants their children to be happy. Happiness is a powerful emotion, but how do you conjure up that emotion through a brand?

In the car on my way to drop my sons at camp I heard on NPR that a critical portion of DOMA had been struck down.

Mama said there'd be days like these - or in my case a month.  Really, do I deserve a pity party any more than the next working  mom?  I mean is my crazy month all that special - two trips away from home (one business one for fun to be fair), end of school year scheduling adjustments, sick dog, unexpected health blip (nothing crazy that a little extra thyroid meds won't fix), and death of a friend all packed on top of the usual hectic work week and family and social commitments.  That's just life, right?

For me, being a working mom is existing in a constant state of managed chaos.  Two small son, plus two rescue dogs, plus demanding career, plus - you know - life in general equals a daily nail-biting existence.  And, yes, I am insane because I wouldn't change a thing about it.And I seemingly hold it together pretty well. It's not uncommon for a friend or co-worker to ask "how do you do it all?" To which I always reply, "I married well."  And by well I don't mean I married a trust fund baby or a billionaire.  What I got is so much better than that.  Truly

Being a mother and a casual observer of the human race, it warrants me the right to shed light on the interesting public response to parents out and about with their children.

 

When I think about the energy I have wasted over the years being angry, I am sure I must be crazy, and that just makes me mad.

How about you?

Do you ever get angry over “little” things?

Can your children push your buttons?  Of course we expect our children to know how to push our buttons, but did you ever think they would learn the secret to pushing them all at the same time?

“Honey, get up. Your pants are getting dirty.” Isn’t that what every man wants to hear when he is on one knee and proposing to his girlfriend? Well, that’s the response my husband received when he asked me to marry him 12 years ago. At that moment, all I could think about was how he had on a new pair of khakis and how dirty the ground was and how it was going to be hard to get the dirt out of the knee. I did eventually get to the “yes” part, but I think he had to ask me again before my brain started functioning properly. What can I say? I don’t respond to surprises well.

Let me preface this entire post by saying it's pretty much the most uncomfortable thing I've probably ever written.  And this coming from someone that wrote a book with an entire chapter about my sex life with my husband; so there's that.  But after what I will refer to as "The Incident" I felt I had to tackle this topic head on.

When I tell people I was a painfully shy kid, they look at me like I am joking.  I am a frequent speaker, mostly internally at my job these days.  I learned to present confidently even when I don’t feel it.  I forced myself each time I felt the piercing angst to walk into and through the feeling.  I didn’t want it to hold me back so I took it on as a personal challenge to defeat it.