The Mamahood

Maybe I Shouldn't Organize...

You'd be amazed at the kinds of things we need to pull together to get this whole China expedition off the ground. For instance, in an effort to control the types of people who enter the country leading up to the Olympics, China had us clear some new hurdles that weren't there a few years ago.

For instance, we needed to provide a copy of a bank statement and letters from our employers indicating our salary and saying that they know we're traveling to China on certain dates. Since I'm self-employed, that presented a bit of a challenge (though thankfully, one of my clients was happy to do the deed for me). And since we're traveling with a former Chinese citizen, we needed to provide her old Chinese passport as well.

Which leads to the subject of this post. Imagine what might happen if you discover, at 11:30 p.m. the night before the information is due, that the old Chinese passport isn't in the safe, as you expected. Imagine the level of stress when after two hours of combing through files and large piles and baskets of papers you still fail to track down that little red booklet. And imagine climbing into bed at 3:30 after hunting under couch cushions, through boxes of photos, and checking that safe for the 10th time hoping you missed it the first 9 times—wondering how you're going to break the news to your daughter that no, she's not going with you to China to get her mei-mei.

Then imagine how many times you wanted to kick yourself when you woke up the next morning at 6:30, dragged yourself into your home office and decided to thumb through a little file box you'd bought but thought you hadn't used—and discovered that the passport has been sitting in an appropriately named "Important Papers" folder all this time.

That would be me this morning.

How hard is it with two?

Okay, all you moms out there...I'm starting to freak out about how to handle a 4-year-old and a 16-month-old and still maintain my sanity. Because my husband tends to work odd schedules, there are times when I'm on total bedtime duty, total morning duty, etc. And I'm trying to figure out how I'll get two kids into bed simultaneously. Anything you wish you'd known beforehand that you feel like sharing? Feel free to share your wisdom in the comments.

Jack of All Trades

One of the downsides to owning your own business is that you are the business: You're the tech support, the accountant, the office manager. And while I'm adept at turning a phrase or putting together a giant Excel file cataloging every page on a website (sooo much fun to do), my skills in the other departments leave something to be desired.

Take, for example, tech support. After my computer meltdown I splurged on a Time Capsule to try and back up my computer, so I wouldn't end up calling my husband at work in hysterics on another Friday afternoon. I've spent about 2 hours today trying to get it to install into my current wireless network, but all I get is the flashing amber light (which isn't good). Apparently, there have been problems with these, but all the advice I've found on Mac forums is written in computer geek, a language I cannot speak.

I'm similarly accounting challenged. Accounting for my business comes in the form of a giant Excel file. One worksheet for assignments and fees, and when I finally get paid. Another worksheet for expenses. Simple. Less simple, however, is the timesheet issue. I have to fill in timesheets for my advertising clients, with fancy job codes, accounting for every quarter hour I spend on their work. And invariably, I don't do it right: I slap in the wrong code, forget to hand them in for weeks at a time, etc. You'd almost think I was working for fun instead of for gas and food money.

At least I've managed to outsource one aspect of business—my "office" (AKA my living room) is cleaned weekly by a lovely woman named Aileen. And frankly, I'd much rather try to tackle tech issues than the toilets.

Birthday Party Hypocrite

When I first became a mom, I vowed I would never host a party for my daughter anywhere but home: With her summer birthday and our pool-and-patio backyard, it seemed silly to pay a few hundred bucks to have the party elsewhere...plus, I liked putting a personal touch into the party. I thought a Mickey D's or Gymboree party was too cookie cutter for my precious daughter.

Until now...we're now planning to host our daughter's party at an art studio, where all I have to do is address invitations and bring in a cake. Planning my daughter's last two birthday parties was exhausting...and when I factored in the amount of time I'd need to put it together, the costs for the elaborate menu...and calculated the hours obsessing at my per-hour rate, the outside party was a better bargain. And so now I have time to surf the web over and over  to find the best way to make a froggy cake for her.

A Tale of Two Companies

As my regular blog readers know, over the past several months I've had major problems with two essential pieces of equipment: my laptop and my dishwasher. Both are around the same age. On both, I'd paid extra for extended warranties. But the treatment I received at the hands of the companies couldn't be more different.

First up: Sears. When the dishwasher failed to work, I called their customer service. And discovered it would be two weeks before anyone could come to look at the darned thing. I asked if I could be filled in at any point if there was a cancellation. I called every day to see if someone could come out and help. The customer service people were by turns indifferent and rude. The guys at the store suggested I buy a new dishwasher (to replace one that was less than two years old). I found the e-mail addresses and mailing addresses for Sears executives, and sent out letters expressing my concerns about their lack of service. I never heard back. When the repairman finally came on the appointed day, he didn't even have any parts for the dishwasher (because he was a washing machine guy who'd been filling in for the dishwasher people for the past few weeks, and despite his requests, his bosses hadn't given him parts). Because the appointment wasn't put in with our warranty, he nearly walked out without looking at it, because I refused to pay for the service. Total grade: F.

Next up: Apple. I've been having problems with my laptop, nearly from the get-go. So far, the battery has been replaced twice, and the hard drive crashed a month back. The customer service people were all super nice, walked me through a few attempts to set things right, then set up appointments, always for the next day. At the store's Genius bar, the people took me seriously. Repairs were made within a few days. And this week, I escalated it to the executive level, because I was so frustrated with my computer: The fan was going on a lot, and I was having some real issues with slowness again. A few hours after sending an e-mail to Steve Jobs' address, I received a call from Mark in executive customer service. After a little phone tag, he called back after hours, and spent a half hour talking to me about my computer and what I needed to do to get it working right. (Turns out, I didn't have enough RAM to support the Leopard operating system.) Mark even suggested going to a cheaper place to buy the RAM and installing it myself, but since I wasn't too keen to take a look at my computer's innards, he arranged that I'd have the Genius bar install my RAM and waived the service fee. It was taken care of in less than an hour. While I wish the Geniuses had suggested the upgrade earlier, all in all, a fine example of their customer service. Total grade: A-

Non-Mom Update

As you can see from the comments on my previous post, after a deluge of angry blog posts, e-mails and calls from the other adoptive moms out there, the sponsors of the "America's Favorite Mom" contest apologized and changed the category name to adopting moms. Which makes it slightly better.

My problem with the new wording? We should never have been singled out in the first place. Adoption is just a means of creating families...but once that family is created, it's no different than any other family out there. Adoptive moms should have been nominated in the other categories--we're working moms and "CEO" moms, military moms and single moms.

We're just like all you other moms out there, worrying about whether our kids are eating enough vegetables, jostling for the front row at the school performances, kissing and bandaging the tiniest boo-boos. We may have social workers instead of stretch marks, but underneath it all, we're the same.

And we're tired of being portrayed otherwise by the unenlightened.

Apparently, I'm a Non-Mom

So, NBC is running a contest for "America's Favorite Mom." There are semifinalist categories, where people can vote for their favorite military moms, working moms, single moms, etc. And my favorite category: the "non-mom" mom. Which is for "mothers of adopted children, grandparents and stepmothers." Because, you know, you're a non-mom if you don't actually grow the baby in you for 9 months. Because all those sleepless nights, all those hours of Candyland, all those hugs and kisses, all that time I've been caring and worrying and  loving my daughter...that's all just babysitting. I'm not a real mom. I'm a "non-mom."

Guess my husband can call off the celebration this weekend, and my daughter can give the gift she made to someone else. No need to celebrate me...I'm technically a "non-mom."

Family Finances

For my recent birthday, I received a number of cards, with a number of checks in them. And thus far, I haven't cashed a single one. I feel funny cashing a check from my grandmother on her fixed income, or from my parents (who are in financial straits right now), when my business is doing super well and my husband is making a good salary.

I worry sometimes that I'm insulting them by not cashing the check. But we don't need or want for anything here, and $25 is going to help them out a lot more than it will me.

I Have Become My Mother

When I was little, my mother often sewed adorable clothes for me...and coordinating ensembles for my baby sister, who was three years younger than me. I didn't mind for a while, but by the time I was 10, the matching thing had gotten annoying. I vowed that I would never, ever inflict the same thing on my own children.

And yet, today, what did I buy? Matching dresses for my little girls, born 2.5 years apart. One in pink, one in lavender. *sigh* I simply couldn't help it. The dresses were far too cute, the colors perfect...and the pull to the dark side was much too strong. I can only imagine that answering questions with "Because I said so," is soon to follow.

Birthday Party Bias

My daughter has two preschools. One is a half-day program for two days a week, the other a full-day program three days a week. And she seems to be pretty darned popular at both. The problem? For the kids in the half-day class, Friday afternoons have become the "it" time to host birthday parties. Which means that either A. I have to give up precious work time (and the full-day program that I've paid for), so my daughter can be the belle of the ball...er, birthday party or B. She has to miss out on a day at the movies, a party at a gymnastics place, etc.

Neither option exactly floats my boat. But because of my current workload, B is the only option. Unless, of course, I can convince the SAHMs who dominate my daughter's preschool that actually, Saturday would be a much better choice. Not very likely though, I can imagine.