the female conundrum

This fall, Magnus will start pre-school. Just two days a week for a few hours, to start. If he likes it and doesn't bite the other students, we will gradually increase his days. I'm excited but also sad, as I know kindergarten, driver's permit and his wedding are just around the corner.

I made a pledge that once he started school, I would quit my job and become a stay-at-home mama. I can't say why but I feel compelled to be there as he starts interacting with others and possibly picking up their bad habits. We also hope a second kid will come early next year, so even more reason to don sweat pants and hang around the condo full-time.

But then what? What will Royita do for the rest of her life as the kiddies get older and more independent? I've worked my whole life, since I was 17 anyway. Being a stay-at-home mom is not something I ever thought about. What will happen to my identity? My skills? What kind of job can I hope to return to if I take myself out of the market for the next 5-8 years? Will I be fulfilled or turn into my neighbor, a full-time mamma who makes homemade popsicles and dog food because, well, she can?

My mother was an at-home mother until my brother and I were in junior high. She loves working and confided that doesn't ever want to retire, even though she's at the age now where she could. I solicited her advice on my stay-at-home dilemma. "You will be so busy interacting with teachers and other parents, you will have your days full of things to do," she advised. Interacting with other parents? Egads. What if they are neurotic or don't drink? I'm supposed to socialize with them? "You worry too much," my mother responded. "Look at you. You haven't even quit your job and you are already drowning."

I retreated, sufficiently insulted. It occured to me that perhaps I should be more analytical about my conundrum. I thought about all the stay at home moms I know. Five of them. Then I counted all the working moms. Twenty six. Eeeeeesh!

"You will love staying at home," my sister-in-law confided. She used to work, got laid off and now stays home full time with her three kids. "You'll be so slammed with homework, their activities, you won't even miss your job or who you used to be." Is she right?

My dilemma won't be easily or quickly solved, I've concluded. I know what my short-term path is, which is being there for the kiddies in those critical first years. The long-term path is a big winding road with a question mark at the end. It's not about the destination but the journey, isn't that what everyone says? What if both of them suck?

Then again, if I stay home, I will be fully caught up on the all the "Real Housewives" episodes...

cool tricks

I fell asleep at my desk with my head held perfectly straight.

Neat!

keep it simple, people

I've just returned from a business lunch on the Westside. I love me some business lunches because I can test out a new place and order the French-influenced entree that's at least $40, both on someone else's dime.

This place was nice and airy and the service was excellent. Halfway through our appetizers, nature called. I stood up and was soon overcome by the crushing anxiety of finding the bathroom.

Some Tinseltown eateries like to hide the bathroom and make you meander up and down the aisles until the water boy, who speaks no English, takes pity on you and points to some closet near the back parking lot. I lucked out this time and was able to find the loo but was met with another challenge. Two large, floor to ceiling doors, both cobalt blue. I stood staring at one, then the other, desperately trying to make out which was the girlie door. Finally, I was able to see a tiny circle in the center of each door: one had a "W," the second had a "M." Who was the fancy pants who approved this design and concept?

I hate Applebees and other chain restaurants but they win big points by having easy-to-find and clearly marked restrooms. As I exited the loo, an older man was standing in front of the doors looking desperately sad. I nodded to the "M" door and he remarked, "What bullshit!"

At least dessert was good.

this week I am craving

1. Thousand Island dressing
2. Orange sherbert
3. Ding Dongs


Clearly I am nostalgic for my junior high days.

animal cruelty sucks

Like any sap, I am easily overcome by commercials featuring photos of abused and injured animals. Who are these maniacs who torture and hurt defenseless dogs and cats? They must be annihilated, and with pain. Then it occured to me, during a commercial this weekend for the Humane Society that touts animal abuse prevention, that stopping these attacks in advance is probably impossible.

Society is made up of normal people, semi-normal people and psychos. The latter often start their career in homicide by abusing animals. Jeffrey Dahmer is a great example, and his immediately family were helpless to prevent his attacks. Unless an organization has a psycho GPS tracking system, how can they identify these folks and stop them before they light Spot on fire? Tragically, we become aware of these abuses only after they have taken place.

J thought perhaps I was reading too much into the commercial and that prevention was a buzz word to get people to donate money. I am not so sure. Don't get me wrong, I support any organization that defends abused animals. I am just not convinced that you can stop it before it happens.

okay, fine

I am going to watch this season's Real Housewives of New Jersey. I am sorry, I cannot help myself.

ohhhh!

I was felled by food poisoning over the weekend. After feeling odd and clammy for an hour, I rushed to the loo and fell to my knees. As I lifted the toilet lid and braced myself for what was about to happen, I realized that I hadn't thrown up in about 15 years. For a moment I thought I might not remember how. After the first gag, however, my body seemed to know what to do.

And it did it for several hours.

This disgusting incident reaffirms my long-held belief that the center of the body is not the heart or the mind. It is the stomach. If your stomach is off, it doesn't matter if you've achieved inner peace. You're screwed.