Starting working again after maternity leave is sort of like traveling to a foreign country on a red-eye flight. Everyone speaks a strange language and moves with a goal-oriented speed, while all you want is a piece of furniture/historic landmark to crawl under and fall asleep for a couple of weeks.
I was happy to rejoin the workforce after taking time off to care for my baby. But back home, a couple of things went haywire on the very first week, like being locked out of the house (twice), accidentally giving my child a giant ball of cheese for lunch, drowning an iPhone in the toilet, being unable to cook due to a busted oven, getting a parking ticket and food poisoning from yet another takeout meal. The new schedule, the logistics and the struggle to leave the little one in someone else’s care for up to 12 hours a day — were overwhelming.
At around the same time, I enrolled in an online course called Mindful Return, a program that helps new moms navigate back to work after maternity leave. Run by a working mother of two, Lori Mihalich-Levin, the course gave me the tools to deal with the change.
On a daily basis for a month, women across the country discussed the transition in a structured, supportive online community. We talked about developing a relationship with daycare providers, using leave as an opportunity for leadership, building a stronger work team, scheduling, coping with stress and cooking ahead (don’t be a hater when it comes to slow-cooker and pre-cut vegetables).
A new session is starting in May – and I recommend it to those who are just planning to go back to work or have recently returned, especially if confronted with things like this.
As a Russian expat, I never gave it much thought until my daughter was born and I didn’t talk to her for the first week of her life, not knowing what language to use. English, my adopted language, would seem like a reasonable choice, yet Russian suddenly felt like the most authentic and intuitive thing. Except what does one say to Russian babies?
Plus, baby’s dad is a red-blooded American from the Midwest. Before meeting me, his only Russian connection was a fondness of Red Dawn, the movie. He also worked at a radical radio station in college, whose staff would parade around campus on May Day, chanting “Ain’t no party like the communist party, cause the communist party don’t stop.”
We decided to raise the baby with both cultures equally, sharing with her the most cherished aspects of our own heritages. It’s trial and error, but the motherland is anything but simple.
A date night for new parents requires precious currency: money, time and energy. And a lot of logistics.
Factor in the prep and travel time – while trying not to wonder whether your child, potentially cold, hungry and/or neglected by a vodka-guzzling babysitter, is weeping into a teddy bear drenched in her drool and inconsolable tears.
Fact is, sometimes parents would rather sleep, watch Scandal reruns or take “What breed of a dog are you?” quizzes on Facebook by the glow of the baby monitor and the comforting sound of silence.
Date night is a phrase loaded with unrealistic expectations to celebrate with reckless abandon and stay up all night long. While celebrating. Maybe even in Vegas.
Hey you guys, go and enjoy yourselves, go out and get CRAAAAZY, just go all ape-$@% out there, you hear?! It’s a RARE opportunity!!!!
Within a week and a half of writing the post and changing my approach, I got one job offer, one almost job offer (declined preemptively) and two interview invitations to some pretty cool firms. The point is, these ideas do work.
While getting acclimated at the new job and figuring out that ineffable work-life balance (and curtailing Chipotle takeout dinners), I’ve been taking a short break from The Flying Yenta.
Please stay tuned for more posts, soon forthcoming.
Two developments in the world of journalism last week got me thinking about storytelling.
Brian Williams, anchor and managing editor of NBC Nightly News, was suspended for falsely claiming his helicopter was hit by a rocket-propelled grenade during the Iraq war. The credibility of the journalist, who’d won multiple awards and increased the network’s viewership, is now at stake.
And Jon Stewart announced that after 17 years of hosting The Daily Show – where despite disavowing the show’s seriousness, he was hailed as a voice of the generation – he plans to step down.
What would you rather pick, a trip to the dentist or a job interview?
I used to be a fan of the interview – and usually did well. You get to dress up, woo strangers into being impressed and talk about yourself.
All that changed after I’d switched careers, had a baby and made the decision to spend the first year at home, taking care of her.
But then, my job search revealed that a root canal might be easier after all.
Moms in my circles, particularly those who didn’t work in a corporate environment, often returned to those same jobs, with flexible hours, particularly in the health, childcare and primary education industries. A few others have their own businesses, with the flexibility to be an earner and a mom.
Who doesn’t ever have a bad day? New parents sometimes do, despite this common belief that motherhood is all about sitting at a park in a state of impenetrable jubilation and tickling or nursing (or both) a giggling infant all day long.
Lots has been written about the challenges new mothers face — related to isolation, hormonal changes, transformed relationships, career adjustments, insomnia, body image, those once-swanky outfits that would look comical now, even if they could miraculously stretch and fit. There is a reason these first months and years are often described as “second puberty.” The bad days don’t affect the loving bond a mother develops with her little one and her joy in motherhood. They do matter when it comes to her bond with herself.
For new parents, there’s the good and the bad, and then there’s the Internet.
Online resources are a draw especially for that subset who’d spent their lives living in big bad baby-free cities or ran from anything child-related prior to having one. (Or who, like myself, once mistakenly bought a dog outfit for a newborn).
Did you know that Americans give birth to three percent of world’s kids but buy 40 percent of all the world’s toys?
That’s a lot of toys. Throw in a big home for storage and the mostly overseas labor that goes into manufacturing and shipping, right before the stuff is committed to rot in landfills.
Luckily, the twenty-first century is turning to our ancestors who’d once raised children in proverbial villages and shared. We no longer want to just own, but willingly exchange goods and services.
Spurred by technology and the post-recession economic woes, the peer-to-peer, or sharing economy, has become a household term.
For instance, Airbnb, an online marketplace that since 2008 has enabled regular folk to rent out their homes, now boasts more than a million listings worldwide. The recently embattled Uber has been offering app-based ridesharing services since 2009. And yours truly once borrowed a designer ball gown to meet the POTUS, from Rent the Runway. For cheap. (Yeah, I sent it back).
How is this year different from all other years? Facebook and blogs are bursting with commitments to being slimmer, loving with abandon, eating kale, making cash. Photos of women laughing on the beach in the wind or holding a plank abound. There are the warnings about why New Year’s resolutions fail and advice on fool-proofing, from buying apps to taking diet pills. No stranger to resolutions this year, I’ve got nearly a dozen of my own.