Motherhood Incorporated

Working from home is great – when the kids aren’t there! Otherwise you can feel as if you’re juggling two full-time jobs, your career and being a full-time entertainer to your kids.

If it’s not a nice day outside or for some other reason the kids can’t just go outside and play, here are some ways to keep them occupied – and out of your hair! – while you’re trying to work.

Get cheap movie rentals; even consider old TV shows, like the Three Stooges, Gilligan’s Island, The A-Team, or anything else that the kids will enjoy.

Coloring books can be purchased very affordably. Get a ton of crayons and markers as well.

Get some craft supplies and have them do their own scrapbooks or crafts. Simple instructional books can be purchased also so that they can be completely on their own as they build popsicle stick houses or tissue paper flowers.

Board games and jigsaw puzzles can also be inexpensive, especially if you buy the smaller ones.

Art supplies are also a must. A small easel and some paints in their room should do the trick.

Have the kids write you a story. Give them a few basics – the characters and who they are, and then have them come up with an entire plot.

Put them to work. Have them fold some basic laundry, or cut coupons.

Recently I traveled to Korea to adopt my daughter. She was four years old at the time and I was confident that once I had my childcare and routine established I could go back to work as a trial attorney and continue my life.  Boy! Was I wrong.

 I left with my husband for that long international flight, blissful in my ignorance.  To make a very long and complicated story short, when we finally did take our daughter home, she came with her three sisters.  I could not bear to break up this family of lovely young women and children, so we applied, adopted and brought them home.

Instantly, I was the mother of not only a child, but of three children and a young adult.  The idea that I would walk back into my law firm was laughable.  I did however using virtual assistants and the company Motherhood Incorporated, start my own legal assistance company from home.

I am thrilled. I love my girls. I love my instant family and less than one year later I am able to contribute to my household through my work financially, emotionally and confidently.  I think I am an inspiration to my girls as they see me work right down the hall from where they are doing homework, dancing or dreaming the saturday afternoon away.

For those who want to work, this is a great opportunity for those who can’t or choose not to work in a traditional business environment.

Good luck to anyone who tries this, but in the end, it’s not luck — it’s the desire to be there are for your family!

 Jillian

I was late for work. Really late. I couldn’t afford another late.

I had my infant in my arms and my toddler at my hand when I opened my door and came face to face with a 4 foot rattlesnake sunning itself on the mat. I stashed my baby in the playpen, put my toddler on the couch and took my husband’s hockey stick from the garage and slapped the snake away. The snake slithered over my sidewalk, but did not leave.

By this time, my baby was howling and my toddler was somewhere in my kitchen making ominous clattering noises. I grabbed my keys, kicked off my heels and darted to my giant SUV climbing in the passenger door to avoid getting bit. I gunned the V-8 engine which fueled my irrational and insane fear of snakes, and steered toward the snake. I must not have closed the house door properly because my toddler wandered out at the same time. I panicked, jumped out, grabbed my son and together we ran the snake down with my truck.

I still had to get both kids in their car seats with bottles and sippy cups, and toys, and their in-flight movie. In gold medal time, I got it all done and backed out my truck. Crunch! Right into my husband’s car.

I got to work that day with holes in my panty hose, gunk on my suit, no diaper bag for the first stop and no day-care bag with lunch for the second stop. I also forgot my cell phone so I could not alert my office of my tardiness or call my husband out of town on business to tell him I had an accident with BOTH our cars.

Driving home that night, my toddler had a massive nosebleed when we were bumper-to-bumper – 4 lanes deep during the Los Angeles rush hour. As I sat in the heat and exhaust mopping up blood and tears, I started to cry myself. I couldn’t do this anymore. I needed a way out.

I will always remember that day; because it was the day I left Corporate America.

The decision to stay at home with my children was not an easy one after a successful business career and achieving (and paying for) both my undergraduate journalism degree and graduate business degree from Northwestern University.

Being able to see my kids anytime she wanted was priceless. Not having the money, financial freedom and stimulation of other working people was not.  I started freelancing and before long I had a small but steady stream of clients.

It’s a new year, the holidays are over and I am back at work.  Let me clarify, I’m a work from home mom, so I was always at work. But now that everyone else is back at work, I can actually get more work done.  The last 2 weeks, my 4 year old son, who has autism, has had no school and almost no therapy.  In between laundry, dishes, phone calls, emails, writing and editing I have also been entertaining, coaching and teaching my brilliant child how to negotaite this wacky wonderful world. 

Yesterday morning was a typical, crazed morning – Washer going full tilt, gluten-free pancakes cooking on the stove while I answer an email and turn on the TV to give my child a daily dose of PBS, but instead as I turned on the TV I hear,  “Coming up in our next segment – How Mom’s with small children can return to the work force from home.”  Great, I want to hear what they have to say. 

So PBS is postponed, I continue flipping pancakes and answering the phone while keeping one eye on my child and the other on the TV. Look, this is my reality.  I don’t have the luxury of sitting down and watching a show start to finish – unless I DVR it -but I didn’t.  I was busy – and then they ticked me off. In fairness I didn’t hear the lead in – so maybe there was a redeeming statement, I don’t know.  But the “expert” suggested in looking for a job that Moms volunteer first – to see what opportunities are available, make sure that they have the time, and to show a prospective employer what they have to offer.  THAT TICKS ME OFF! 

I have seen Suzie Orman’s Woman and Money on PBS (alright, I’ve seen parts of it, because I did DVR it) and Suzie brings up an interesting point about voluteering – how come women are always telling other women to volunteer?  You never hear men telling other men to volunteer.  Don’t get me wrong, I think volunteering is a great thing and everyone should be doing it – But when you need to put food on the table and you need a job to do it – what kind of advise is “You should volunteer first”?  What?  If a man came to this woman looking for a job would she ever in a million years suggest he volunteer – I don’t think so.  But because you took off 10 months or 5 years after having a baby now you have to donate your time to get your foot back in the door? I don’t think so! 

I’m sorry to say that I didn’t listen to anything this “expert” said after that.  Clearly she was only speaking to the three bored millionare housewives sitting in Orange County with nothing but money and time on their hands while their nannies are taking care of their kids.  For those of us in the real world, we already donate enough of our time to the causes we are passionate about, and now our newest passion, our children, have caused a shift in our time, our priorities and our bank balances.  We need real solutions about how to make our home economy work while being able to nurture our children, instead of dropping them off at daycare.  We don’t need some “expert” telling us to give away our talents for free.  The world under values stay at home moms enough.  We need to stand on a mountain top and proclaim our time as valuable and precious, and never offer it up for free. 

 by Chef Steven Weinbaum

 

My mom was never a blur to me. She always seemed to busy running errands

in the neighborhood. Taking my sister here and my brother there. Shopping for this and that. She was always in some community organization and doing for them as well. But to me she was never a blur. She let me hang out with her.

 

I remember my mom use to cook meals just about every day for the family. With everything else that was going on she always cooked. And there I was, in the kitchen hanging out with mom. I cherished those days. She started me out tearing lettuce leaves for salads. Now torn leaves are fashionable but then it was just a way for me to do the job without using a knife. I made the best salads.

 

As time went on and grew up a little she let me help with one of her “famous recipes”.

I remember the chopped liver she made for all the fancy holiday meals or when important

people were coming. She had this old fashion silver hand grinder that she forces the liver, onions, egg and her little secret ingredients through. Then there was the day she let me turn the handle on the grinder. I must have been about four or five but I felt as grown up and as accomplished as any chef. The chopped liver that night was mom and Steven’s famous chopped liver.

 

As time went on she taught me more about the foods she knew. She taught me about recipes and how to plan them. This was strategic thinking and problem solving. What she was really teaching me was how to think. But to me it was just hanging out with mom.

 

It has been many years since I have graduated from culinary school. My mother has past on for many years as well. Her memory and my vision of her is still strong. Not so much because she taught me this or help me with that, but because she let me hang out with her. She never kicked me out to watch TV or whatever to get me out of her hair. She found something for me to do with her in the same room.

 

So here is list of kitchen things that just about any kid from four or five years old can do to help you moms. Hey, I did it, so can your kids.

 

Tear lettuce leaves for a salad.  Pick herb leaves off the stems. Measure with cups.

Stir, it is as simple as a wooden spoon and a bowl. My mom use to have me repeat recipes to her as she read them.  Clean up. Simply put stuff in a trash bag.

Taste things. This always kept me interested.

 

One more very important thought about home offices – if at all possible, avoid putting them in the bedroom, if at all possible. It might be tempting to take that unused corner and slide your desk in, but seeing the bills piling up or the unfinished work staring at you when you’re in bed has been proven to cause stress and insomnia in many people. There needs to be a separation between your office and your personal space and time of rest.

If you absolutely must put a desk in the bedroom, consider investing in a roll-top or an armoire when you can close everything up before retiring for the evening. This way everything is “out of sight, out of mind.”

You can also use a nice folding screen to slide in front of the desk area when not in use. This also works to shut this area out of your mind.

I turned to my husband tonight and said, “Well, we’re back on the treadmill.”  He had this terrified look on his face, apparently he thought I meant literally, that I wanted to get on the treadmill and work out, with him.  I meant figuratively, because today my husband went back to work after having 2 weeks off and my son went back to Preschool and therapy was restarted after almost 3 weeks off due to illness.

It seems like mere moments ago when on December 23rd I said how grateful I was that we were going to be forced to take a few days off due to the approaching holiday.  Then WHAM! the holidays were over and I had a sick child and then a sick husband and then a sick child again.  Talk about being forced off the treadmill.  I felt like a bear coming out of hibernation today as we returned to the real world.

As everybody got better the last few days it seems like everyone has been asking me – How do YOU feel?  Honestly, I feel like I’ve been hit by a bus.  I had a pediatrition very politely explain to me that I probably had the flu too and that this could be why I was crying over my son having a fever of over 103 degrees on and off for over 2 weeks.  He might have been a little right, but who would know.

I’m a mom, a working mom.  A mom who works, from home.  There are no days off, no sick days and no vacation.  I didn’t say no vacation pay – I said no vacation.  When my husband got the chills, I tucked him into fresh sheets surrounded him with quilts, forced tylenol and chicken soup down his throat and alternated hot chocolate and iced ginger ale depending on how his stomach felt.  When my son had the chills I sat up and held him and rocked him – for DAYS.  When I had the chills – I did laundry.  When I had aches and pains – I edited. 

And now the vacation – admittedly my husband’s vacation sucked – is over.  My hubby is back at work, my son is back at school.  I have work to catch up on, gluten free pizza to make and laundry to do.  But I realized through all of it today, the treadmill isn’t so bad – at least you know what to expect from the threadmill.  And with the treadmill if I run fast enough I occasionally get ten minutes to myself.  A thing devoutly to be wished.

Posted in Being a Mom,

I love my husband but can someone get him to shut up!  I work from home, which means I am always working.  I write and I edit, both words and video, so even when I am not actually at the computer I am thinking, planning, writing and editing in my head.  I fold laundry and I am think of the opening paragraph of a new article, I load the dishwasher and I think of the special effect I want to use on the current video editing project.  I conciously have to turn my mind off at times, so I can communicate with my husband and child.  But there are times in the day when they also understand that while I am physically present in the home, I am mentally at work and should not be inturupted unless someone is on fire.  I say that they understand, this is a lie – they have been told – they do not understand.  The really frustrating thing is that my 4 year old with autism has a much better grasp on this concept than my 50 year old non autistic husband.

The worst times are when my husband is off from work – today – Valentine’s Day – he did not have to go to work until later – Great, he’ll be home in the morning – this should be a help, right?  I was running around making gluten free valentine cookies, sealing Scooby Doo Valentines and getting the camera equipment together (all in prep for the big pre-school valentine party today)  And while I’m doing all of this I’m writing in my head – this is the routine my son and I have every morning – he eats his breakfast and watches PBS or Playhouse Disney – while I get everything ready and mind write.  It works for us. 

But now I have my husband doing the stupid question marathon.  You ladies know what I’m talking about, when they start asking questions that are completely unnessecary or require an encyclopedia to answer.  This morning I heard, Does he need to get dressed for school? No, lets let him go naked, it is Valentine’s Day. Does he need to brush his teeth? No, we can afford the dental bill.  Does he need to have his supplement?  No let’s stop his whole protocol. Does he need to be at school at 8:30? Yes the schedule is the same as it has been since August.  Then the ask Jeeves questions.  What channel is the Disney Channel? I don’t know or care -you are holding the remote, figure it out! How many miles away is Castaic?  This was not one of the actual questions from this morning – it was from another morning - but it clearly illustrates the level of nuisance questions my husband asks me.  My answer to him was “Do I look like mapquest?”  After the 50th question this morning I said to him, “What would be nice, what would be helpful is if you would stop asking me questions.”  And finally he shut up.  Great start to a romantic Valentine’s Day.  And I feel like a witch.  But I have said to him before – Picture me calling you at work and asking you if our son should go to the bathroom before he goes to school.  How many times would I have to do that before you wanted to muzzle me?  He laughs because he gets it – It’s stupid – It would be insane of me to call him at work to ask him such a stupid question.  And he gets that really he does it to me all the time.  He gets it.  But then he does it over and over again.  We even have a hand signal where I hold up my hand  -he is supposed to know that when I do that it means I am in the middle of a creative thought and should be left alone.  We’re working on it.  Working at home is hard because the boundaries are not clear.  So we work on it.  We’re Moms it’s what we do.  Happy Valentine’s Day

Do you remember those old cartoons with the chubby, naked man and woman that used to be in the paper every day, the caption would say Love Means… and every day it would say something different? Love Means…never having to say that you are sorry.  Love Means…remembering to put the toilet seat down, etc.  I loved those.  As a kid the local newspaper, The Saratogian, would be dropped off on our front porch at 4:30 every afternoon (it was an “evening paper”)  It was my job to get the paper and bring it to my mother so she could have a chance to peruse the pages before my father got home and read it cover to cover.  I loved my job because it meant that I got to look at the little cartoon in the left hand corner and come closer to understanding what love really meant.  This morning it dawned on me, I think I finally have the answer. To everything.  The answer to what love means, the answer to being a good mom, the answer to being a working mom, the answer to being happy, successful and calm.  One word.  Flexibility.  Don’t dismiss it immediately.  I came to this conclusion this morning, after 10 days of excruciatingly painful days with a sick 4 year old.  It seems like 7 years ago, although it was just a week ago Sunday, when my adorable son looked up from his Lego’s, his eyes troubled, and proceeded to vomit all over my new Christmas Jammies. Approximately 40 loads of laundry later, having spent 5 days fighting a fever of over 102, one 4am trip to the emergency room, 3 trips to the Doctor’s office, 4 trips to the pharmacy, and endless nights of holding him his sleep, this morning my son was finally going back to pre-school. Only a mom can appreciate how excited I was about this morning.  I had plans!  All of the plans that I had had for the previous nine days that had been sacrificed to my son’s care, plus new plans.  I had to pick up a check from the school district and deposit it in the bank – We have to pay out of pocket for our son’s behavioral shadow at school, the school reimburses us, and then we turn around and pay for the therapy again.  It’s expensive and means that literally thousands of our dollars are tied up in a delicate wash of paper work which has to move along in a timely fashion or more of our money gets tied up.  For days when my son’s temperature was teetering on 104 it wasn’t as important, now that we are back in the land of 98.6, picking up the reimbursement check and getting it deposited was of paramount importance.  I mentioned my plans to my husband last night and he looked at me and said “I’m off tomorrow, why don’t I take the boy to school, pick up the check and deposit it in the bank, and you take some time for yourself?”  Ahhhhhhhhh.My head swirled with ideas – Time to myself – after 9 days of total stress, worry, intense nursemaiding, and practically no view of the outside world!  Did I want to be practical and just get the kitchen clean, and catch up on work – or did I want to live dangerously and actually go outside and move among the masses, did I have time to haul my scrapbooking tote out of the cobwebs? My mind raced.  Eventually I decided I would clean the kitchen, go for a nice long brisk walk and come home in time for my 10am conference call, “A PLAN, a mother’s favorite daydream.And a daydream was all it was.  As the sun rose so did my husband’s temperature.  Gone were my plans, now I not only had to get a 4 year old ready for

Pre

School, I had tissues and Tylenol to fetch. I ran my son to the car and hurried to his school doing the math in my head, I could drop him off, pick up the check, run to the bank and if all went well I could still get home in time for my conference call.  My new plan.

Then as I was leaving the preschool, schedules fresh in my mind, I heard the teacher call me back.  It seems that today they had plans to make quesadillas in class, a cooking project that would emphasis the letter Q and begin to teach the 4 year olds about fractions (quarters) – and since he hadn’t been at school yesterday, no one had been able to tell me that I would need to have a gluten free alternative for my son – or he’d have to sit out the lesson, while the other children ate their lesson and my poor little guy watched.  These are fighting words to a mom.  I watched my schedule dissolve again. 

Okay, if I hurried I could get to the health food store and buy brown rice tortillas and hummus (We’re dairy free too) pick up the check, run back to the school and get home in time for the conference call.  The bank would have to wait.  It was a good plan, but that’s all it was. 

The college student who was supposed to open the health food store was 10 minutes late to work, there was no parking in the school district parking lot, and ultimately what sank me was that I had to stop and go to the bathroom.  Ahh, nature! So I was ten minutes late for the conference call.  I was late, but hey, at least I had my answer : love means…..being flexible. 

Posted in Being a Mom, Working from Home, Autism | No

     How has being an “autism mom” changed my life?  Let me count the ways…..it would be quicker to talk about what hasn’t changed.  I’m still married.  That practically makes me an anomaly.  The divorce rate for couple with a child with autism is crazy high.  Something like 80%.  Knock wood that’s not us, not yet, not ever if we can help it.  I would be lying if I didn’t admit that a lot of the changes that have occured in my life have been for the best.  I’m not sure, but on the whole, I think I’m a better parent.  And having a child with autism forced me to do the thing that I had wanted to do from the moment I got pregnant but was too afraid to.  I became a work from home mom. 

      I remember when I was pregnant I called everyone I knew (I wish I was kidding but I’m not) and asked them if they knew anyone who worked out of their home successfully and what they were doing.  I was desperate.  I wanted to stay home.  It wasn’t until I knew my son’s therapy would require me to be home, but in another room, that I knew I HAD to work from home. It took a lot of rearranging of our condo and frankly, like so many other work from home moms, it isn’t ideal.  But it functions, enough.  I haven’t worked outside the home for a year and a half now.  My son is miraculously better.  I am getting the hang of being a work at home mom.  There are days when I actually manage to multi task myself through the myriads of activities that pepper my days, without losing focus, without resentments, without longing for a vacation, or a maid, or even an hour of down time.  Okay I might have had one day like that, maybe two.  The truth is I’m still figuring it out. 

     When I was a kid I taught myself how to juggle.  Three limes, my hands are small and they fit perfectly.  I could keep all three limes up for about a minute and then they would come crashing down.  Little did I know those limes were going to become a metaphor for my life in my 40s.  I can get the limes up —keeping them up that’s the trick.  I can get the laundry done while meeting a dead line and listening to my son over the baby monitor working with his behavioral therapist.  But the thing is, there’s always more laundry.  As with so many other tasks involved in mothering, there is no DONE pile.  It’s a treadmill and occasionally I get a few steps behind.  If I could find a way to not care when I get behind, that would be great.  I don’t think I’m wire that way. 

     I heard a speaker recently, Dr. Michael Beckwith, and he said you should find gratitude on a consistent basis for the things you least want to do.  He said that when you go to do your dishes you should give thanks, which struck me as funny.  He said once you get your head into that mindset you can’t help but remember that there are people on this earth who would be thrilled to have dishes to wash.  That punched me in the gut.  Sometimes I get so into this drama of being a working from home mom on the treadmill, that I forget how lucky I am.  Every night when my child goes to bed, I’m home.  He may have to come into my office and give me a kiss while I’m working on the computer, but I’m here and he knows it!  I don’t have to drive away from a day care center and long for Saturday so I can be with my child.  I get to be there when he wakes up, when he eats lunch, when he suddenly breaks out in a rash after lunch.  I am so grateful for this time with my son.  I’m grateful that autism gave me the courage to make it happen.  And (this week anyway) I’m grateful for my dirty dishes, every single one of them!