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Friday, July 25, 2008
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Hot Laundry
I was doing laundry the other day. I am a stay-at-home mom and, although I don’t entirely include laundry in my job description, I do seem to be the most logical person to do it. After all, I am within several yards of the laundry room more often than any other adult in my house. Yes, I do laundry.
Where was I? I was doing laundry.
Did I mention that I wasn’t just doing a little bit, but I was doing a whole houseful of laundry before taking five relatively messy humans on a long trip? Oh, and I had decided it would be a reasonable time, since I was doing laundry, to wash all the sheets as well. And, I needed to sort socks. We have upwards of 80 pairs of socks in the house; none of them match. It was driving me crazy.
The dryer reached at least 350 degrees. I could have fried a steak on my dryer (I wish I had thought of it at the time, I could have made dinner as well).
I left. I came back. Surely, I thought, this thing will cool off. Surely, other housewives do this much laundry. Do people really just do one load a day? It was still hot. Then, I couldn’t help it.
I took it apart.
I was a little frustrated, I guess, but more importantly, it just seemed like the right thing to do. My kids watched. It was full of lint (surprised I didn’t find any socks, or even shoes) so I got the vacuum. My kids watched. Perhaps I shouldn’t have been surprised, but the vacuum started to get really hot. It slowed down. My dryer was overcoming my vacuum. I couldn’t let the dryer win this easily. I turned off the vacuum.
And, I took it apart.
The beater brush was full of threads. Every tube was full of dust. I know I shouldn’t have done it, but I have a shop vac in my garage. I pulled it out. I was going to vacuum my vacuum. Yes, I really was, except the shop vac wasn’t pulling a vacuum.
Yes, I took it apart.
This time, though, I didn’t need a screwdriver. I found the sock in the hose: of course, a sock.
I vacuumed my vacuum. I vacuumed my dryer. The kids watched.
Just as I was ready to put the dryer back together, my husband walked in from work.
“Honey?”
“I’m in the laundry room,” I called.
He saw the shop vac (now fixed), the vacuum, about a quart of lint on the floor and his wife with a set of screwdrivers, working on the dryer.
“What are you doing honey?”
“Turning you on."
Where was I? I was doing laundry.
Did I mention that I wasn’t just doing a little bit, but I was doing a whole houseful of laundry before taking five relatively messy humans on a long trip? Oh, and I had decided it would be a reasonable time, since I was doing laundry, to wash all the sheets as well. And, I needed to sort socks. We have upwards of 80 pairs of socks in the house; none of them match. It was driving me crazy.
The dryer reached at least 350 degrees. I could have fried a steak on my dryer (I wish I had thought of it at the time, I could have made dinner as well).
I left. I came back. Surely, I thought, this thing will cool off. Surely, other housewives do this much laundry. Do people really just do one load a day? It was still hot. Then, I couldn’t help it.
I took it apart.
I was a little frustrated, I guess, but more importantly, it just seemed like the right thing to do. My kids watched. It was full of lint (surprised I didn’t find any socks, or even shoes) so I got the vacuum. My kids watched. Perhaps I shouldn’t have been surprised, but the vacuum started to get really hot. It slowed down. My dryer was overcoming my vacuum. I couldn’t let the dryer win this easily. I turned off the vacuum.
And, I took it apart.
The beater brush was full of threads. Every tube was full of dust. I know I shouldn’t have done it, but I have a shop vac in my garage. I pulled it out. I was going to vacuum my vacuum. Yes, I really was, except the shop vac wasn’t pulling a vacuum.
Yes, I took it apart.
This time, though, I didn’t need a screwdriver. I found the sock in the hose: of course, a sock.
I vacuumed my vacuum. I vacuumed my dryer. The kids watched.
Just as I was ready to put the dryer back together, my husband walked in from work.
“Honey?”
“I’m in the laundry room,” I called.
He saw the shop vac (now fixed), the vacuum, about a quart of lint on the floor and his wife with a set of screwdrivers, working on the dryer.
“What are you doing honey?”
“Turning you on."
Monday, July 21, 2008
We can't be friends anymore
July 21st, 2008
My very best friend from college, Kay, had her first baby just three months before I delivered my third. This was both good and bad. It was good because now we have children the same age. It was not-so-good because at the time I desperately wanted to be with her after the delivery, and it just wasn’t the best time for me to travel. We are no where near each other. Besides the pregnancy, my eldest was not-quite-four and my middle child was still just 18 months old. I don’t have local family to help out. It wouldn’t work.
We don’t talk nearly as often as either one of us would like. (I think if she reads this, she will agree with that.) It is very difficult to keep in touch. I’m not sure why some people are able to do it so well. I’m horrible at it. I try. This blog is one attempt at it.
A few months ago we were talking, trying to catch up, forgiving ourselves for never being quite there, when she said it.
“We can’t be friends anymore.”
“Really?”
“No, we just can’t,” she said.
“Oh, um, why?” I wasn’t quite sure what to say. Her tone was quite flat on the phone.
“I read about it in the paper. Moms who work are never friends with stay-at-home moms and vice versa. I’m going back to work.”
“Oh, is that all? I’m a mother. I don’t have time to read the paper.”
We both giggled.
We talk now and then, but there is never a moment when we both have time. She called me today. We were talking about lots of different threads of conversation, and then about our experiences with our first children, when they were very little.
“Oh yes,” I said “I vaguely remember that. It is a blur, but I recall after I finished nursing finding candy bar wrappers behind my nursing chair. I was just so hungry and there was never time to eat.” (I’m not the type to eat candy bars, I had found them in my husband’s bag he had taken with him to the hospital – in case he got hungry when I delivered.)
She laughed, “Oh, you do have to blog about THAT.”
My very best friend from college, Kay, had her first baby just three months before I delivered my third. This was both good and bad. It was good because now we have children the same age. It was not-so-good because at the time I desperately wanted to be with her after the delivery, and it just wasn’t the best time for me to travel. We are no where near each other. Besides the pregnancy, my eldest was not-quite-four and my middle child was still just 18 months old. I don’t have local family to help out. It wouldn’t work.
We don’t talk nearly as often as either one of us would like. (I think if she reads this, she will agree with that.) It is very difficult to keep in touch. I’m not sure why some people are able to do it so well. I’m horrible at it. I try. This blog is one attempt at it.
A few months ago we were talking, trying to catch up, forgiving ourselves for never being quite there, when she said it.
“We can’t be friends anymore.”
“Really?”
“No, we just can’t,” she said.
“Oh, um, why?” I wasn’t quite sure what to say. Her tone was quite flat on the phone.
“I read about it in the paper. Moms who work are never friends with stay-at-home moms and vice versa. I’m going back to work.”
“Oh, is that all? I’m a mother. I don’t have time to read the paper.”
We both giggled.
We talk now and then, but there is never a moment when we both have time. She called me today. We were talking about lots of different threads of conversation, and then about our experiences with our first children, when they were very little.
“Oh yes,” I said “I vaguely remember that. It is a blur, but I recall after I finished nursing finding candy bar wrappers behind my nursing chair. I was just so hungry and there was never time to eat.” (I’m not the type to eat candy bars, I had found them in my husband’s bag he had taken with him to the hospital – in case he got hungry when I delivered.)
She laughed, “Oh, you do have to blog about THAT.”
Sunday, July 20, 2008
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Who is Enthalpy Mama?
I graduated from MIT and worked for 10 years as an engineer and in business development, mostly in Japan. I loved my work, was very successful, and conducted business in Japanese. I dreamed of a Masters in International Relations and was accepted to Johns Hopkins School of Advanced International Studies just at the time my husband and I were starting a family. My husband could have stayed home, we could have chosen day care options, but I decided to be the stay-at-home mom. I opted out of JH SAIS (still hard!). I worked 13-hour days, took a half-load of classes at U of Michigan and started a Japanese language seminar (and struggled with fertility issues). When we moved for his career, I was finally pregnant and quit everything to move to a small city in the Midwest. We lost the pregnancy during the move, so I had no job, no school, no kids, and no family in the area. I knew no one.
Ever accidentally find yourself become a mid-western housewife?
Soon, I was pregnant again and had landed a full-paid scholarship to the best local MBA program. The program started three weeks before my due date . . . so I opted out of that too! Today, I am the mom of a 4-yr old, a 2-yr old and a 7-mos old. Up until a month ago, I was the president of two volunteer organizations. My children have friends, my son reads (and says thank you), my daughter is almost potty trained, my 7-mos old is a wonderfully happy baby. My career? Perhaps when all of your plans fall apart at once you have to learn to NOT define yourself by your career or your family. No matter what is thrown at you, you are still smart and ambitious. My friends are teachers, musicians, lawyers, Phd's, consultants . . . all mommies. My house is filled with noise and chaos, “no, honey, not now”, “get off your brother, he's a baby", "yes, the earth is rotating, you just don't feel it because you are rotating with it. . . ." Yes, I did explain to my son that he is moving very quickly through the universe in multiple directions. He also knows what happens when you move a magnet across wires and how our air conditioning works.
He asked.
But, more importantly, someone who loves him was right there to answer him. Its hard work and its not at all glamorous. It’s a bad financial decision. The first year was a horribly difficult and exhausting experience. If you consider that you have worked hard to earn your degree to improve your world, is there a better way to improve your world than to dedicate a few years to the next generation?
I don’t think so.
Ever accidentally find yourself become a mid-western housewife?
Soon, I was pregnant again and had landed a full-paid scholarship to the best local MBA program. The program started three weeks before my due date . . . so I opted out of that too! Today, I am the mom of a 4-yr old, a 2-yr old and a 7-mos old. Up until a month ago, I was the president of two volunteer organizations. My children have friends, my son reads (and says thank you), my daughter is almost potty trained, my 7-mos old is a wonderfully happy baby. My career? Perhaps when all of your plans fall apart at once you have to learn to NOT define yourself by your career or your family. No matter what is thrown at you, you are still smart and ambitious. My friends are teachers, musicians, lawyers, Phd's, consultants . . . all mommies. My house is filled with noise and chaos, “no, honey, not now”, “get off your brother, he's a baby", "yes, the earth is rotating, you just don't feel it because you are rotating with it. . . ." Yes, I did explain to my son that he is moving very quickly through the universe in multiple directions. He also knows what happens when you move a magnet across wires and how our air conditioning works.
He asked.
But, more importantly, someone who loves him was right there to answer him. Its hard work and its not at all glamorous. It’s a bad financial decision. The first year was a horribly difficult and exhausting experience. If you consider that you have worked hard to earn your degree to improve your world, is there a better way to improve your world than to dedicate a few years to the next generation?
I don’t think so.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Why the good guys always win
The difference between changing your mind and second-guessing yourself is defined by your actions.
It was not long ago that my son asked me why the good guys always win. I laughed. “Well, honey, the victors have the honor of writing the history books.” My 4-year old looked at me funny. “We all hope that we make the right decisions, but at the end of the day, we only know for sure in hindsight. So, it becomes a matter of perspective. Not to say the end justifies the means, but even the most honorable decisions may appear dishonorable, or vice versa, depending on who views them through the lens of time.”
“What, Mommy?”
“All you can do is do your best and try to be one of the ‘good guys’ by always making good choices. If you make good choices, you will know you won by how your heart feels.”
My 4-year old finally looked satisfied. “It makes me happy to make good choices. That makes me win.” (This would work for our U.S. energy strategy as well, if everyone would listen to their mommies.)
Did you make the ONLY right decision? It hardly matters. The victory is in the confidence to change your mind; to take action, or decide to move on. Emerge victorious.
It was not long ago that my son asked me why the good guys always win. I laughed. “Well, honey, the victors have the honor of writing the history books.” My 4-year old looked at me funny. “We all hope that we make the right decisions, but at the end of the day, we only know for sure in hindsight. So, it becomes a matter of perspective. Not to say the end justifies the means, but even the most honorable decisions may appear dishonorable, or vice versa, depending on who views them through the lens of time.”
“What, Mommy?”
“All you can do is do your best and try to be one of the ‘good guys’ by always making good choices. If you make good choices, you will know you won by how your heart feels.”
My 4-year old finally looked satisfied. “It makes me happy to make good choices. That makes me win.” (This would work for our U.S. energy strategy as well, if everyone would listen to their mommies.)
Did you make the ONLY right decision? It hardly matters. The victory is in the confidence to change your mind; to take action, or decide to move on. Emerge victorious.
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