Yeah... About that housewife business...

I can hear my sister already... "I can't believe you actually wrote a blog post!"

Don't get too excited.

I used to log in to Blogger every couple of days to write a post and never really get anywhere. But unlike previous blocks, these writer's blocks are most definitely not ADHD-related. These are "Wow, I'm really boring" blocks.

I have a pretty good routine going these days, but it's just that - a routine: Gym, work, cook, television, sleep. But as I reflected on my routine, I quickly realized that - aside from cooking - I wasn't really a housewife anymore.

When I went back to work in Charlotte, I questioned whether I was still a housewife. The reality is that I was still trying to make sense of moving to Charlotte and what that meant for me personally and professionally. I had a job and it fit into my career goals, but it certainly wasn't an integral part of my life. Maybe that had to do with the job itself, maybe it had to do with the culture of the South, or maybe it was because we eventually had the move to Milwaukee on the horizon.
Moving to Milwaukee has definitely been different than the move to Charlotte. I have family and friends here, and I quickly found a job that is both challenging and rewarding. My husband and I settled into our lives here. But it's a different life than we had in Charlotte.

I don't think of myself as a housewife. A wife, certainly, but not a housewife. I do very little around the house. In fact, it's not really important to me anymore. I don't feel any pride or guilt or really anything about what I considered "housewifey." That's just not me anymore.

Something happened when we moved back to Milwaukee. Yes, we moved back for my husband's job, but it's not like moving to Charlotte. If anything, life in Milwaukee now seems almost identical to the life I had the last time we lived in Milwaukee. The daily routine is different, but it feels familiar, and it's nothing like the life I had in Charlotte.

I'm not a housewife, I'm a DINK - Dual Income No Kids. My focus is very much on my career, and my husband's focus is very much on his career, and when we're not thinking about our careers, we are enjoying the life that we have as a result of having two successful careers. The fundamentals of our marriage and the lessons we learned from our time in Charlotte have not changed, but they're not as relevant now as they were then. Because they're not as relevant, they don't consume my daily thoughts like they did when I was in Charlotte.

And when you don't have daily thoughts about what it's like to be a housewife, it makes it pretty hard to blog about being a housewife.

I'll still write from time to time. I'm sure with the holidays coming up I'll have some fun things to share - recipes, gift ideas, fun activities, etc. I'm sure I'll have some good stories to share. Perhaps the Grinch will make a return.

But I won't promise anything.

Until we meet again... RHoM

Monday Minute

 My blogging sucks lately. Oh well. Every post would have been about work anyway, and you should thank me that I haven't exposed you to that. But I saw this link-up and figured, hey, I can do that! So I am.

1 - Think back as far as you can, what's the first tape, record, etc you remember listening to?
Eddy Grant, Electric Avenue. I know I listened to the requisite children's music before this, but this is the first piece of pop music that I remember listening to over and over and over. My older sister used to play it LOUDLY every Saturday morning

2 - What's the first concert you've ever been to, the year and who performed?
It may have been New Kids on the Block in 1989. Is it wrong that I still want to see them in concert in 2011?

NKOTB circa 2008

3 - Ever bleed from your ass?
No, thank goodness.

4 - If you went to your Senior Prom and had a date, do you still speak to said person?
Definitely not, though I occasionally hear about him from friends from high school because I'm apparently supposed to care. I don't.

5 - Name the one television show that's no longer on the air that could have gone on forever. 
Gilmore Girls. So many unresolved issues - did Luke and Lorelai get married? Did they have kids? What's Rory doing now? What kind of reporter is she? How long was she with the Obama campaign? Is she married? Is Zach a famous rock musician? Did Lane ever play drums again? What's up with their kids? Did Paris marry Doyle? The characters on that show had so much room to grow and I wanted to see them do it!!!

Dear Milwaukee

Dear Milwaukee,

It's a good thing you are the home to so many people and places I love because your weather sucks. It's the middle of May for goodness sakes. I shouldn't have to wear my sweaters anymore. I'm not asking for a lot, just some extended 60+ degree weather.

Love,
RHoM

Fan of the section

A few weeks ago, we went to the Brewers game for my niece's 4th birthday. My niece is quite the Brewers fan and knows most of the players. In fact, she refers to left-fielder Ryan Braun as her boyfriend - much to her mom's dismay. However, I remember being my niece's age and having quite the affinity for a first baseman named Cecil Cooper, including a t-shirt that said I {heart} Cooper, so I get it.

COOOOOOOOOP!!!

We had a fun group sitting behind us - they were probably in their twenties, and although a few of them were a little intoxicated, they were generally fine and clearly having a good time. They thought my niece and nephew were pretty darn cute and had a lot of fun joking around with them. One guy in particular repeatedly asked my nephew for a spoonful of his Dippin' Dots, which my nephew thought was weird at first but then thought was pretty funny. They declared my niece "The best fan in this section. We can't say the whole stadium because we haven't checked out all the fans in all the sections, but she's clearly the best in this section." 

I think the best fan of the section may have been a reaction to the following conversation: During right-fielder Mark Kotsay's first at-bat, my niece recognized the name and repeated it in her four year old-speak: "Kot-saaaaaay." This caught the attention of one of her Grandmas, and they proceeded to have this conversation:

Grandma: Grandpa doesn't like Kotsay.
Niece: Why not?
Grandma: Why don't you ask him?
Niece: Grandpa, why you don't like Kotsay?
Grandpa: Because he doesn't hit very much.
Niece: (Pause) He hits on my tv!

Yeah, my niece is pretty cute.

And for the record, Kotsay had a couple of hits that game, including a hit immediately following this conversation. Clearly my niece knows her Brewers baseball.

Congratulations, LoRa!

My youngest sister, LoRa (not her her real name), graduates with her Master's Degree today. For most people, graduation signals an end to college life, but for people like LoRa and myself, graduation is the beginning of a new chapter of college life - life as a professional in higher education.

My sister is entering the profession of Student Affairs, a little known profession that is essential to college life. Student Affairs folks are essentially in charge of everything that happens at college outside of the classroom, though some people (like me) are involved in the classroom as well. Student Affairs professional can be like my sister and run the residence halls, the campus activities, the career services, and the leadership programs. They can be like me and be academic advisors and academic support services for special populations, like student-athletes or first-generation college students. They can be like my co-workers and be admissions and financial aid counselors. And, for those times when college students like to pretend they can do anything and not have consequences, student affairs professionals are the conduct administrators that help students (hopefully) learn from their mistakes. It's a challenging but incredibly rewarding profession.

Congratulations LoRa! I'm proud to have you as a sister and a colleague.

Cool kids' table

I have survived almost three weeks at my new job! Woohoo!

Starting this job hasn't kicked my butt nearly as much starting my job in North Carolina. I don't know if I'm just used to the early hours, or if I don't have to lie as much so I'm not as tired (I have a desk and a computer and an office with a door and everything!!!). Personally, I think being on Central time has a lot to do with it because all my favorite shows are on at nine instead of ten, and I can still watch them and get to bed at a decent time.

I sound like an old lady.

Anyway, my job is going pretty well so far, but one thing I've noticed is that I'm definitely not one of "them." I'm not officially part of the department that my physical office is in; I partner with them, but I don't work with them and definitely not for them. Because of this, everybody is really friendly and nice, but it feels like I'm more tolerated than included.

I'm okay with this arrangement. I like doing my own thing, and I like that I'm not part of their drama. Not that they have drama drama, but they are a fairly large office and they have a lot of relationships and dynamics to manage that I don't really have to deal with as an outsider. They're also very high energy and always on the move, and I'm much more mellow at work. I still do fifteen things at once like they do, I just am more... contained is the word that's coming to mind.

Plus, they're mostly younger than me - by quite a bit actually - and while this shouldn't matter, I sometimes feel like I can't relate to them.Sometimes I sit in our meetings and think, "Wow, you have no idea." A few of them have been in the workforce for less than a year, and just don't have the years of experience I'm used to in my colleagues. I use these opportunities to teach and I try hard not to preach, but the looks I get often seem like, "Who let the old fart in?"

I think the biggest thing I've noticed, though, is I'm not part of their social interaction. They hang out after work, they joke around during the day, and they stop by each others' offices all day long. This doesn't happen with me. Part of it is that I don't share their work so they don't need to ask me questions or share their experiences, but part of it is that I just don't relate to them. I've joked to my friends that it feels like high school and they're the cool kids and I'm the nerd (again), but it's not like that. Because I work at a university, I think it's more appropriate to describe them as members of a fraternity, while I'm GDI (that's g**damn independent, or non-Greek, for you non-higher educators). They share a common experience and have bonded around that shared experience, and I'm on the outside doing my own thing. We work at the same place, and often attend the same meetings, but what we take away from our jobs and our meetings are very different. While I'm not envious of their jobs at all, nor do I really want to be part of their fraternity, I do envy the collegial nature of their work.

And you know, every now and then, it's nice to be invited to the cool kids' table.

GO LUCY!!! AGAIN!!!

Remember when my crazy sister Lucy was running in her second half-marathon? Well, tomorrow she is running in her first FULL MARATHON! Go Lucy!

Never ever ever in a million years would I be able to do that, and I admire her for her dedication and persistence. And also for her craziness, because she has to be a little insane to want to voluntarily run for four hours, but it's the good kind of insane and I respect that kind of insanity.

GO LUCY!!!! YOU CAN DO IT!!!

Coffee talk

I am not a morning person. I hate mornings. I have no use for mornings.

In other words, mornings suck.

Unfortunately for me, most jobs cater to morning people so I have had to adapt my natural sleeping patterns and lifestyle to fit into the world of morning people. I have to get up earlier than my body wants to and go to bed at a "reasonable time." I have to be productive at a time when my brain hasn't even turned on yet. I have to commute when it's still dark outside. And I have to go to the gym at 5:30 in the morning.

After a day of work, I have no motivation to go to the gym so I've decided to go before work. Unlike my gym in Charlotte, however, my gym is not around the corner from my house so I can't go back home to get ready for work. Instead, I schlep a bag of clothes to the gym and get ready there. Side note: Somehow I never feel as clean when showering at the gym as I do at home, but I'll live. And my office has a door for the really bad days :)

What I don't like is that I don't have my morning get-ready time with my husband. Because I'm not a morning person, I don't generally like to talk to anyone in the morning. However, after a couple of car rides and some gym time, I usually wake up enough to have a conversation - nothing deep of course, but more than the conversations when I first wake up, which consist mostly of grunts and whining, with an occassional, "Shhh. No talking." Getting-ready conversations were basically check-ins. My husband and I would talk about our plans for the upcoming day, what to have for dinner, thoughts about the upcoming weekend, reminders to set the DVR, etc.

With my job, we drive separately to the gym, do our separate workouts, and go our separate ways when we finish. I head to the women's locker room to shower and get ready for work, and he drives home to get ready. We don't talk much, if at all, and I miss it. We've tried to adapt to our new schedule; he calls me while he's driving to work and we usually arrive at our respective offices around the same time (because his commute is 5 minutes and mine is 55 minutes). But it's not the same as having that in-person conversation.

I never thought much of those conversations before, but now that we don't have them, I recognize how important they were in our daily lives. Those morning check-ins ensured we were connected daily, and ensured our lines of communication were always open. More importantly, however, our get-ready time was an opportunity for intimacy, because we were physically present with each other. It wasn't intimacy in a sexual way - get your mind out of the gutter! - but because we shared a bedroom and a bathroom, we were constantly in each other's personal space. While that can be annoying at times, I generally enjoyed being close to my husband. I show and feel affection through physical touch, and so does my husband. Sharing our space while we were getting ready was another way for me to feel connected to my husband, just as our morning talks helped me feel connected to him.

Brain droppings

I was so overwhelmed by all my comments the last couple of days - yes, twelve comments is a lot of comments - that I thought "I have to write an amazing post and build on my momentum!" And of course my mind went blank and I couldn't come up with anything.

And then I realized that it didn't really matter, because really the only people who read this are my sisters and a couple of friends and who was I kidding anyway. Magically, the thoughts came back.

And now you get the scary gibberish that is my brain. You're welcome!

• I start my new job on Monday!

• I love the show Community, but I've realized I only really pay attention when Abed is on screen.

• I had a personal training appointment yesterday and the trainer said his goal was to make sure I was sore tomorrow. He FAILED and that gives me a great deal of satisfaction. But that also means I have no excuse for not going to the gym. 

• Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 1 comes out on DVD today!!!!

• I love Top Chef, but I have no use for Top Chef Masters. 

•  I played Hungry, Hungry Hippos all by myself yesterday. And guess what? I won!!!

• I have hit a major sports lull. The initial excitement about the beginning of baseball season has worn off, and I have a long time to wait for college basketball to start, and who knows if the NFL is going to play this year. There's still soccer though...

• The Pee-Wee Herman Show on Broadway may be the greatest thing ever shown on HBO.

• My husband is going to Chile and Brazil for work next month, and I don't get to go because I have this thing called "a job." I don't know why I was so eager to go back to work.

•  I have an attic full of Christmas decorations and exactly two decorations for Easter - a door hanging and an Easter basket. I may need to shop.

• My in-laws are coming to visit this weekend. Give me strength...

Have a great weekend!!!

What have you been busy with? You don't have any kids!

Before I start, I should say that this post isn't directed at anybody or as a result of any particular incident. It really was my sister's Facebook status that triggered my thinking today. Then I signed on to read blogs this morning, and saw that Shell at Things I Can't Say had posted her weekly Pour Your Heart Out and I just felt like it was time to say that thing I can't say... 

My sister Lucy volunteers as a weekly visitor to an elderly woman who is essentially stuck at home with no regular visitors. Lucy refers to this woman as "my old lady" and she has great affection for her. Anyway, Lucy posted this as her Facebook status yesterday:

Today my old lady mocked me when I told her I'd been busy and said "What have you been busy with? You don't have any kids! It's just you and your husband!" Now I could handle that comment from someone who works, raises kids, and goes to school, but that was harsh coming from someone who looks out her window and watches local news all day.

First, Lucy and I have similar senses of humor and similar ways of communicating, and her status clearly has an element of sarcasm. But behind the sarcasm is that nugget of truth, that little dig that sticks and leads to the posting of the status (or reposting on a blog). What struck me about her status is the idea that without children, I am somehow not busy... or my time isn't as valuable.

When I start my new job next week, my concept of "busy" will change. I'll have an eleven hour day including my commute. I'm starting a student services program from scratch so I'm sure I will be doing eighteen things at once - "building the plane while I fly it" so to speak. Dinner will still have to be made, workouts will still have to be completed, blogs will still need to be written - because my sisters say so - and laundry will need to be folded. I'll be busy.

But right now, I'm at home and I don't have kids. This doesn't mean I'm not busy. Our house didn't unpack itself after our move. The walls didn't go to Lowe's and pick out their own paint and put it on themselves. Our groceries don't magically show up. I can't exactly drive-thru the DMV to get my Wisconsin license and register the cars. My scrapbooks are gorgeous for a reason. Heck, even though I don't clean my house, the cleaning fairies didn't just show up one day - I had to make calls, schedule appointments, meet with people, check references, etc. And throwing on some Shape-ups while I run errands isn't going to get me the workout I want or need.

I'm busy.

I understand parents are busy, but I am too. What I am busy doing may seem frivolous or unimportant when compared with raising a child, but it's my choice and it's my luxury because I chose not to have kids right away. I wanted to go to school, establish a career, and build a nest egg. I wanted to visit a baseball stadium on whim or take a last-minute vacation when I got stressed out. I wanted to be able to move across the country for a great job opportunity (for my husband or me) and not have to worry about moving kids and switching schools.

I am more than okay with my choice not have kids at this point in my life because I love the life that I have. I love that I can spend my day cropping pictures and picking out scrapbook papers. I love that I can spend hours grocery shopping and trying out a new recipe for dinner. I love that I can read a book cover to cover in one afternoon. I love that I can spend quality time with my husband. I love that I can do the things I want to do.

What I don't love is having my choices trivialized. I don't love being called selfish. I don't love that I'm viewed as superficial. I don't love that my time and how I spend it is not viewed as important or worthwhile. I don't love that my worth as a woman is measured by raising children.

Most of all, I don't love that it's socially acceptable for everyone - working moms, stay-at-home dads, and even old ladies - to verbally pass judgment on how I spend my time, and it's proper etiquette for me to keep my mouth shut and take it.

Deadliest Catch starts tonight!!!

I am very excited that Deadliest Catch Season 7 premiers tonight. I have no idea why I enjoy a show about catching crab but I really do.

I remember the first time I saw Deadliest Catch. I was living in Wisconsin, and my husband and I were laying in bed, flipping channels, and came across this show on the Discovery Channel. He said something to the effect of, "I saw this/heard about this, it's really cool" and we watched it. When they showed a simulation of the crabs crawling on the Bering Sea floor, my husband ran his fingers on my arm to imitate a crab walk and made this weird noise that sounded like gargling, blowing bubbles, and crab claws clicking - it both freaked me out and made me laugh. He still does it when we watch it, and it still makes me laugh.

Okay, maybe I know why I enjoy a show about catching crab.

Zumba

I attend a Zumba class on Tuesday mornings at the Wisconsin Athletic Club in West Allis. It's awesome. Zumba itself is fun, especially if you like to dance (which I do), and especially if you like Latin dance (which I do). I'm not a good dancer by any means, but I do have rhythm, and I just love shaking my booty - literally! But what I like most about this class is the instructor, Karen. She is enthusiastic and energetic, and I can tell that she enjoys teaching. She's encouraging without being condescending or bitchy, which I've found is a rarity for aerobics instructors. She also makes me laugh during class, which naturally makes the class more fun.

As Karen says, "Smile! It burns more calories!"

Summer tease

It is a beautiful day in Milwaukee - temperatures in the 70s and generally sunny. Of course, thunderstorms are predicted for this afternoon and, because of the 20-30 degree temperature swing, there is a possibility of tornadoes. Awesome. But I'll take it, bad weather and all.

I am beyond ready for summer. I am ready to put away the sweaters and sweatshirts and winter jackets, and break out the shorts and flip flops. I am ready for summer fruit and grilling. I am ready for a night at Miller Park (where the Milwaukee Brewers play) with the roof open. I am ready for the ethnic festivals, Summerfest, and the Wisconsin State Fair. I am ready for the best time of year in Milwaukee, the time of year that brings in voluntary visitors because Milwaukee is just that fun in the summer.

No more teasing, warm weather. It's time for you to move north and stay in Milwaukee. Just like me.

It's the hottest fires that make the hardest steel

Do you remember the Super Bowl commercials from this year? I only remember one:

I lived in Michigan for three years, and my years there overlapped with the bankruptcies of Chrysler and GM. I got goosebumps when this commercial directly addressed the critics, the politicians, and the American public when it notes that story you've heard about Detroit and about the American auto companies was "written by folks who have never even been here."

My husband and I were directly affected by the turmoil in the auto companies, and we knew many families who were affected as well. I can't describe how incredibly stressful that experience was. Well, maybe I can describe it: It was pure hell.

I'm not going to detail all that I felt, and all the BS I heard from people I counted on to support my husband and me while we were going through one of the most difficult experiences of our lives. At least not today. And frankly, I don't want to hear your opinions about it either - unless you were there, you'll never fully grasp how devastating those Congressional hearings and newspaper stories and backhanded comments really were.

Instead, I want to honor the sentiment of that commercial and show you the Detroit you haven't seen, what the newspapers didn't show you...

What a city that has been to hell and back knows about the finer things in life.

What I love about these pictures are not the pretty flowers, although I do love the pretty flowers. No, it's where I found these beautiful flowers...

... In the shadow of the General Motors headquarters.

I don't remember seeing these images on the news, do you?

I didn't especially enjoy living in Michigan, but it's a part of who I am. I learned a lot about myself from the experience, just like I learned a lot from being a housewife in Charlotte. The lessons were quite different though.

Charlotte taught me about marriage and partnership. Michigan taught me economics and politics.

Charlotte reminded me to cherish my friends and family who I didn't get to see very often. Michigan reminded me of who I could count on when the going got tough.

Charlotte helped me acknowledge my weaknesses. Michigan helped me find strength I didn't know I had.

But most of all, Michigan taught me to be resilient. Like the auto companies, and the people who worked for them or with them, I went through hell and back in Michigan. I was damaged certainly, but not broken. And like the city of Detroit, I knew that despite the turmoil I experienced, there was something beautiful growing inside me that I would would one day uncover.

Charlotte gave me time to heal. Charlotte helped me find the beauty.

Now that I'm in Milwaukee, I'm ready to incorporate those lessons I learned from Michigan and Charlotte. I'm not the same person I was when I last lived in Milwaukee. Or maybe I am the same person, but now I just understand who this person is.

I am strong. I am passionate. I am intelligent. I am flawed. I am compassionate. I am an educator, a social worker, and a new kind of housewife. I make my own rules.

Random Milwaukee observations

1. It's been almost a month, and I haven't smelled yeast from the breweries yet.

2. Highway 100 is actually 108th Street.

3. There are no Spanish restaurants here. There are tapas places, but not authentic Spanish restaurants.

4. If I liked fish, I'd be in heaven with all the fish fry specials. Since I hate fish, I wish they'd replace a fish fry with a Spanish restaurant.

5. For a state known for its cheese, I've been very disappointed in the cheese selection in the grocery stores. Smoked mozzarella please!

6. It's still cold. It's April and it is officially Spring, but I still need a sweatshirt every day. I may need another Caribbean vacation soon. 

7. My neighborhood and local shopping area are much more diverse here than in Charlotte, and that's a good thing.

8. I can find my way around with no problem, but I can't remember where most stores are. For example, I have no idea where Michaels is, but if I'm told it's at Moorland and Bluemound Road, I have no problem finding it without my navigator.

9. I'm pretty sure I-94 near Franklin was under construction when we left Wisconsin five years ago.

10. The first time we had friends over, it was like we'd never left. This really is home.

15 minute dinner

Despite all the times that I have moved over the years, I still forget how long it takes to get truly settled in a new place. I've unpacked the main parts of the house, but the basement and the attic remain full of taped-up boxes that really need to be unpacked or repacked. I've been methodically working through these boxes over the last couple of weeks, but I reached the point where I needed some help from my husband, so we spent the weekend digging through all the crap boxes of precious memories and lost treasures. We were so busy that it soon was six o'clock on Sunday night and we were both starving.

In Charlotte, six o'clock and starving meant that I'd cook the Dream Dinners entree I had defrosting in the refrigerator, and we'd be eating in 20 minutes. In Milwaukee, not so much. No Dream Dinners. No meal prep places anywhere I can find. No dinner help.

Excuse me while I get a tissue.

I'm starting my new job in a couple of weeks (yay!), but I'm going to have an even longer commute than I had in Charlotte (boo!). I know I'm going to be exhausted when I get home, especially in the first few weeks, and getting dinner on the table is going to be a challenge. And while I find cooking relaxing, I find grocery shopping stressful and I find clean up even more stressful, and that's not what I want after coming home from a long day at a new job.

So how am I going to make dinner every night? Yes, I understand I can cook in advance. Yes, I will use my crockpot. Yes, I understand I can get takeout on the really busy nights. Yes, we can go out to dinner. But all of those options either cost more than they should, aren't as healthy as home preparation, take too much time or energy, and/or will make my house messy.

Back to Sunday night. We were starving and I needed to get something on the table quickly, but after our pizza on Friday and another trip to Kopp's on Saturday, I also wanted something light and somewhat healthy. We had leftovers, but neither of us was in the mood for leftovers. That's when I remembered our go-to quick and healthy dinner: tortellini salad.

Tortellini salad is just a regular salad with cheese tortellini on top, and it's one of our favorite meals. It's also one of the meals that I can get on the table in fifteen minutes, and I almost always have the ingredients on hand because there isn't a specific recipe. I buy tortellini (or ravioli works too) when it's on sale and throw it in the freezer, and we usually have various salad ingredients in the house. My tortellini salad usually consists of romaine lettuce or spring mix, grape tomatoes or chopped tomatoes, cucumbers, gorgonzola, and whole wheat three cheese tortellini, and tossed with balsamic vinegar and EVOO. If we have leftover chicken, I'll throw that in too, but it's not necessary. Tortellini cooks incredibly fast and yet I can still chop all the vegetables and make the dressing in the time it takes to cook those little pasta nuggets.

I very easily could have thrown a frozen pizza in the oven or made a turkey sandwich with baby carrots - and we do eat those things- but tortellini salad felt more fulfilling and more dinner-like. Even though it's a salad, it still feels like a real meal because there's pasta, and pasta and a salad feels like dinner. Plus it has gorgonzola cheese, and that makes it fancy. Because I said so.

These are the types of dinners I need to have in my arsenal for my return to work - meals made with ingredients I have on hand (or I can easily stock up on in advance), that have some nutritional value, and that I can have on the table in 15-20 minutes. And really, doesn't every housewife need a list of 15 minute meals for those days when the kids have soccer practice or the end of day meeting ran late or you're just plain ol' exhausted from a day of cleaning and shopping and running errands and unpacking boxes of junk that never should've been moved? I know I do.

What are your 15 minute dinner ideas?

Pizza craving: Satisfied.

Friday night, my husband and I went to Edwardos and I finally satisfied my pizza craving.

Yum. Yum yum yum yum yum YUM.

See that cheese oozing out of the side? That's what I craved for a year and a half while living in Charlotte. And three years in Michigan before that.

Cheese. Cheese topped with pizza sauce. And then some more cheese.

One piece and I was full, which was fine because now we have leftovers!!!  Chicago-style pizza for days!

Me = Happy.

Clean all the things!!!

My house is immaculate! I cleaned all the things!

Not really. My house IS immaculate, but I didn't clean any of the things. I hired a maid service, and they come every other week and clean all the things. And you know what? I'm absolutely, completely, 100 percent okay with paying someone to clean my house, even though I am a housewife and I should be doing it myself.

In my career, I spent a lot of time trying to work on my weaknesses so that they were not impairments in my ability to do my job. And through my work with students with disabilities, and my own struggles with ADHD, I've also learned to accept limitations and/or find ways to accommodate learning or functioning differences. For example, my students who had difficulty reading were given text-to-speech software to read their textbooks to them. They gleaned the necessary information from the textbooks, just in a different way.

In my career as a housewife, I recognize I have many strengths, but cleaning is not one of them.

I tried. I made cleaning schedules. I told myself to clean one extra thing each day. I tried to put things away after I used them. And all that happened is that I got frustrated and mad because I couldn't do it, and the house just got messier and dirtier. I finally had to accept my limitations and figure out a way to accommodate them. I had to find my reading software.

Enter MaidBrigade. They clean my house for me while I am doing the sixteen other things I need or want to do in a day, and I give them a check for doing what I can't do. Yes, it's an additional expense. Yes, it's a luxury. But it's also stress relief for me. I have 32 years of life experience that tell me that I can't keep anything clean for an extended period of time (Hello! Tell-tale sign of ADHD! Blinking neon sign! Anyone?!?) Rather than listen to everyone tell me that it is my job as a housewife to clean the house and then ultimately feel like a failure at my job because I can't do this simple, normal task, I found my accommodation.

I found a way to clean all the things.

(Thanks, Allie Brosh, for my post title... AGAIN!)

Jamaica

When my husband and I were making the decision to move back to Wisconsin, I told him that one of my requirements was that we take a trip somewhere warm when I couldn't stand the cold anymore. He laughed, but agreed.

And that's why two days after we moved into our house in Wisconsin, we were on a plane to Jamaica.

Two days. That's how long I lasted. Two days.

Okay, we'd actually been planning to take a trip for a while and then the move came up. Rather than postpone our vacation, we decided to alter our plans just a little bit but take the trip anyway. Getting away from the snow and the cold was secondary. A bonus for sure, but secondary.

We desperately needed a vacation, but not just any old trip. We take trips and "vacation" a lot. We didn't need one of those trips. We needed a vacation, the kind of vacation where the biggest decision is whether to lay at the beach or the pool, where sightseeing involves watching the sunset from the balcony of your hotel room while sipping on a pina colada and getting ready for an amazing dinner, where the wallet never leaves the hotel safe because everything is included and none of the staff expects a tip. The kind of vacation where I can relax. I'm talking about the all-inclusive Caribbean resort vacation.

Iberostar Rose Hall Beach

We booked our vacation through Apple Vacations (love them!) and stayed at the Iberostar Rose Hall Beach in Montego Bay, Jamaica. We've been to Jamaica before, and stayed in Ocho Rios, but opted to stay a little closer to the airport this time around in order to maximize our time at the beach. We were far enough that we didn't hear the air traffic, but close enough that we were airport-to-pool in less than 30 minutes. Plus, I am a huge fan of the Iberostar brand of hotels. We stayed at the Iberostar Punta Cana for our honeymoon, and I was blown away by the level of service they provided. We've stayed at other brands of all-inclusives and they've all been great, but Iberostar has always been the best so I was eager to test them out again. They didn't disappoint.

 

The beach



We were only there for three nights, so we decided to stay at the resort the entire trip and make the most of our relaxation time. My days consisted of a little exercise (I did water aerobics in the Caribbean Sea!), but mostly lounging on a chair either at the beach or at the pool, reading my Kindle, and periodically jumping in the pool or the sea to cool off from the hot sun. My days also involved having a friendly server come around asking me what she could bring me to drink, as if nothing would give her greater pleasure than to bring me a glass of water. Sometimes, when I was feeling really ambitious, I'd get in the pool and swim over to the bar to get my own drink because they had bars IN THE POOL (a "swim up bar" for you novices). I ate jerk chicken and curried beef (which I am convinced was curried goat, a Jamaican specialty) and a lot of fresh fruit, and left the island feeling warm, happy, refreshed, and relaxed. Most importantly, I reconnected with my husband.  



View from our balcony at night

I'm lucky that my husband and I really enjoy being around each other, whether we're exploring baseball parks or enjoying a dinner out or watching television. When we go on vacation together, especially a vacation like this trip to Jamaica, we leave everything behind and can just focus on us. We are forced to be our real selves, and can't hide behind the daily distractions of work or school or television. We don't even have to think about what we need to do for the day because the only things on the to-do list are eat, drink, and relax. We have to talk. But we want to talk.

Moving is one of the most stressful life events and we've moved three times - to three different states - in five years. Everything with this move back to Milwaukee happened quickly, and while we discussed it extensively, we didn't really have a chance to process all that it meant to leave behind our life in Charlotte and move back to Milwaukee. We needed this vacation for our own personal sanity, but also to strengthen our marriage as we deal with the stress of moving. In Jamaica, we talked about our expectations and our concerns, and we planned for the future. We set goals for ourselves and for our family, and left Jamaica feeling closer, connected, and ready for the next chapter in our life.

If you've never taken an all-inclusive vacation, you should. And if you think you won't like them, then something is seriously wrong with you. I mean really, what's not to like about this...



The infinity pool looking out over the beach



It's custard! It's pie! It's DELICIOUS!

Charlotte may have had Yoforia, but Milwaukee has Kopp's. Who needs tart frozen yogurt that is low in calories when I can have frozen custard that tastes like cherry pie a la mode?

Kopp's is to me what butter is to Paula Deen.

My family is from Milwaukee, but I wasn't introduced to Kopp's until I was in college. My dad was a South-sider and preferred Leon's Frozen Custard, and my mom lived in Tosa and preferred Gilles Frozen Custard. I remember going to both of those places when we visited Milwaukee, but I don't ever remember going to Kopp's. That all changed during my freshmen orientation in college. We went miniature golfing and then to Kopp's and I had a scoop of the flavor of the day, Snickers Chunky Cheesecake. It was like heaven in a cup served with a triangle wafer, and I was hooked. My senior year of college, my boyfriend (now husband) went to Kopp's every Thursday after his honor society meeting, and he always brought some back for me if I couldn't go with him.

He's such a romantic.

We've been in Milwaukee for three weeks but we didn't make our first Kopp's run until last night. The flavors of the day were Grasshopper Fudge and Cherry Pie a la Mode - yum! We both got the cherry pie a la mode and it was everything I remembered Kopp's to be. Thick and creamy, and the tart cherries just popped those taste buds right open. Yoforia and Pinkberry were great and all, but I'm happy to be back in the land where frozen custard reigns supreme.

Good thing I already set up the gym membership.

There's no place like home

I'm back, and I have a new home- both in the real world and on the internet! The Real Housewife of Charlotte is now the Real Housewife of Milwaukee because, well, I live in Milwaukee and not Charlotte. Well, technically I live in a suburb of Milwaukee, but close enough, right?

A lot has happened in the short time that I've been in Wisconsin and I found myself thinking, "I should really blog about this..." and so I finally decided to get the new site up and running. I've attempted to import all my posts from The Real Housewife of Charlotte, so take the time to get reacquainted with me and I'll have a few new posts in the days to come!

It's not you, it's me

Charlotte, I'm breaking up with you. But it's not you, it's me.

You've been a great home for the last year and a half. You've taught me a lot about myself and about my interests and goals. We definitely had a lot of fun - I loved the Whitewater Center and the Lazy 5 Ranch and all the awesome restaurants. I loved my country club, my tennis lessons, and my water aerobics classes. I love that it's 75 degrees in the middle of February. You made me very, very happy.

But I miss my family and I miss my friends, and so it's time for me to move back to Wisconsin. I'm sure the first time I am forced to shovel, I'll be longing for a southern snowstorm instead, but the weather isn't enough of a reason for me to stay.

Hopefully we can stay friends and I can visit you again, and maybe someday you'll be my home again. I'll miss you, and you'll always have a special place in my heart.

Love,
The Real Housewife of Charlotte Milwaukee

"You're not normal."

For much of my life, I've been told that I'm not normal, or some variation, such as "you're weird." Yeah, I know.

I find the topics that trigger the abnormal comments very interesting. The one that triggered this post though was being surrounded by a bunch of other alums from my alma mater for our annual basketball game watching party at a local sports bar, and it had to do with the song that my alma mater plays during its introduction at the men's basketball games - "Where the Streets Have No Name" by U2. This song has been played for years, and though the game operations people have changed it at various times over the years, the alumni feedback (read: complaints) have led to making "Streets" seemingly permanent. And the alums LOVE it.

I don't get it.

A) I don't understand how this song is a pump song, B) I don't understand how this is even an option for a basketball game in 2011. C) I don't like U2.

I know some fans have a Pavlovian response to the song because it was the intro song in the early part of the decade when the team went to the Final Four. I get that. But a lot has changed since then, including the coach of the team, not to mention the obvious change in roster. I can't imagine any of them get pumped by this song either.

Apparently this means I'm not normal.

I'm pretty sure there was some sort of law that that people my age had to pay $150 to see U2 in concert in 1997, but I don't like U2 and never really have. In fact, I remember standing up in my friend's wedding in 2003 - a friend who paid $150 to see U2 in 1997 - and she chose U2's "Elevation" as the song we walked into at the reception. The random dude I stood up with made some comment about it being the greatest song ever, and I commented that I didn't really like U2, which elicted a "what the hell is wrong with you" look and a "I don't think we can walk in together" response. That would've been fine with me.

Clearly, I'm supposed to like U2. And it's also supposed to pump me up. Since it does neither, I'm not normal.

But when I really think about it, I'm not normal compared to my fellow alums or maybe even my demographics.

My alma mater has a huge problem with binge drinking. They like to pretend they don't, but I've seen the statistics and they are waaaaaaaaay above the national average. But even if they were at the national average, popular culture tells me that I should've gotten drunk at least once in college. I've never been drunk in my life, and I don't understand why I should have been, or why others believe my college life was somehow unfulfilling.

My fellow alums often reminisce about their time at the bars and frat parties, and then discuss the local restaurant establishments they frequented after to get their greasy food fix. I also never did that. Oh, I went into the most infamous one once - a chili place where people went for the cracker throwing more than the food I think - but it was because I was babysitting drunkards and was seriously outnumbered. I can only imagine that one had to be drunk to eat there because that was the only possible way to be oblivious to the multiple health code violations and disgusting food. In fact, my alumni group has gone so far as to duplicate the chili recipe and have game watching parties where they eat that stuff voluntarily, while reminiscing about all the awesome times they had watching basketball, getting drunk, and eating chili - not necessarily in that order, though. I've insisted that we NOT do that again, largely because it's disgusting, but also because that was not my experience in college.

But you know, that's because I'm not normal.

As an adult, and as a professional, I've realized that being perceived as not normal has made me into the person that I am, and it is what makes me successful in my multiple roles in life. If I had followed my college peers, I probably wouldn't have ended up with my husband. I also wouldn't have soberly witnessed the drunken behavior of my classmates, and drawn attention to an ugly trend developing before the college administration wanted to acknowledge it was ugly - that my university has a problem with alcohol abuse. I also recognized that this trend wasn't college specific, like most in the the university community wanted to believe. Rather, research now shows that students engage in binge drinking behavior for years after they graduate from college. It's not about a "normal college experience" anymore - young adults are regularly drinking to get drunk. It's a growing trend and therefore "normal," but I am 100% confident that that behavior is not normal, nor is it healthy or safe.

My career path has certainly not followed a normal career trajectory, but in my profession, that's actually pretty normal. People tend to "fall into" what I do, rather than intentionally choose to work in student and academic affairs. I mean really, how many ten year olds think "I want to be an academic advisor when I grow up!" How many ten year olds know what an academic advisor is? Regardless of the path, the programs that I chose to work in are certainly not normal, especially considering my background. For one, I'm White. I'm sorry if that shocks you in some way - both that I am White and that I acknowledge it so bluntly - but I am. And the reality that I am White, and that I acknowledge that I am, actually means something in my profession because most of the students I serve are not White. I also grew up in a middle to upper middle class family and attended upper middle class schools. The students I serve generally come from low-income families and attend(ed) horrible schools - the kind that most in my profession don't believe exist. Thus, the perception is that I have nothing in common with my students, that I couldn't possibly understand their life experiences, and therefore there is no way I would be an effective advisor. And yet I am. I'm damn good. So maybe I'm not the "normal" advisor, but my students are successful, and that's all that matters. I choose to be abnormal and have my students graduate from college.
I've never really done what is perceived as normal. It's not because I intentionally went against the grain; I think I was largely unaware of what was happening around me. My dad used to tell me, "Be aware of your surroundings!" because I often lived in my imagination, and forgot to look out for things like traffic. Because of this fantasy land I created for myself, I didn't notice trends or patterns of behavior. I just did what seemed right for me in the world I created. And what was right for me was often different than what was right for a majority of other people. It meant that I was frequently teased and, when I did became aware that I was doing something that was not the socially-accepted "norm," I felt out of place or ostracized. Most frequently I felt misunderstood. I don't mean that in the "parents just don't understand" way, though I definitely felt that too. I mean it in the sense that I had an explanation as to why I made my choices or why I behaved in a certain way that seemed perfectly logical to me- but nobody bothered to ask me - or really, nobody bothered to listen or understand. And even though I sometimes felt like I didn't fit in, it wasn't enough for me to change who I was or what I believed in - or who I am and what I believe in. And I know that peer pressure should make me want to change, and that my resistance to doing so makes me weird, but I'm okay with it.

I guess that's just another reason I'm not normal.

I hate Valentine's Day

I have long hated Valentine's Day. It's not because I believe it's a Hallmark holiday. It's not because I'm single and don't have anybody to share the day with. I just

I don't remember many Valentine's Days before junior high, but I distinctly remember eighth grade. We had a Valentine's party during school - yes, just like the first graders do. We made card boxes so we could pass out those cheap valentines, and my teacher made a rule that we either pass them out to everyone in the class or pass the out to, in my case, just the girls. I suggested we forego valentines and a party done by our room mother and just watch a movie or have free time in the gym, to which my teacher told the class "[RHoC] doesn't want any valentines so you can give them to everybody but her."

Of course, that's not exactly what I said, and certainly not what I meant. But my teacher was a bully, and she wanted to punish me for challenging the status quo, so I shot back, "That's fine with me. I won't be giving them either, and I'll skip the party." And I held true to what I said. I didn't make a box. I didn't participate in the games. I didn't do the craft. I did my algebra homework instead and then read a book. I still got a few valentines, and I thanked the people who gave them to me, but otherwise I refused to acknowledge that it was Valentine's Day.

That same year, Valentine's Day fell on a Friday and we had a school dance. We were allowed to invite people from other schools, and one of my friends brought a boy from her former school. He developed a crush on one of our other friends, which led to them kissing on the dance floor, and me consoling the first friend in the bathroom for an hour. The second friend didn't think she had done anything wrong because she hadn't pursued the boy, and my two friends never reconciled. I remember thinking that one friend had just had the greatest Valentine's Day of her life, and the other one had the worst of her life, and that's just the way Valentine's Day worked. Not everyone has someone on Valentine's Day.

And for the record, the boy wasn't even cute. At all.

Valentine's Day just got worse in high school because it was a constant reminder of who had a special someone and who didn't. I attended an all-girls school for two years of high school, and it was tradition for boyfriends to send flowers and gifts to the school. My first year, girls were called down to the office all day to retrieve their tokens of affection and flaunt the fact that they had boyfriends. The jealousy from the other girls was palpable. Yes, Singles Awareness Day was alive and well in my high school. The second year, the school saved all the gifts until the end of the day so the single gals didn't have to be reminded of their singleness throughout the day, just when they walked by the office on the way home.

The reminders of having a special someone wasn't exclusive to boyfriends and girlfriends, however. I also had flower sales and candygrams to remind me of how many friends loved me too. Because that's the BS that Valentine's Day lovers try to sell - that Valentine's Day is about love in general, and that includes your friends and your family too. So my schools would sell different color roses or carnations - red for love, yellow for friend, and white or pink for secret admirer - and we'd carry those around all day as a status symbol. Really, who thought this was a good idea in high school? It was completely Singles Awareness Day - those who had a boyfriend or girlfriend carried a red flower and nobody else did - but it was also Popularity Awareness Day too. The popular kids had multiple yellow flowers to represent all their friends, while the outcasts had a couple or none at all. Those damn flowers were the equivalent of "Kick Me" signs, and yet another reminder that not everyone has someone on Valentine's Day.

I've had a romantic someone on Valentine's Day for the last fifteen years, but that hasn't translated to liking the holiday. My school experiences definitely shaped my perspective, but my opinion on the holiday also has to do with my expectations for romance. I don't think I've mentioned it before, but I'm a princess. My princess tendencies don't come across in my everyday life, but they certainly do in my romantic relationships. I expect to be put on a pedastal, and expect to be treated like I am the best girlfriend/wife ever, and I expect to be wooed daily. And while these princess tendencies appear to lend themselves to Valentine's Day, they actually directly contrast this day. Why? Because it's too easy.

Think about it: Valentine's Day is designed for idiot men to get romance right. Every store is advertising some sort of appropriate Valentine's Day gift. All the restaurants feature romantic Valentine's Day menus. Flowers are foolproof. Even blogs and magazines give ideas for perfect Valentine's Day presents. It's just too easy and really requires very little effort - buy flowers, buy chocolate, make reservation, etc. It's prescribed and tired. And as a princess, prescribed and tired is unacceptable.

I'm lucky because my husband spoils me daily. We go out to eat often, and we still "date" a few times each week. And if I really want to buy something special, my husband will get it for me or I'll just buy it for myself. I'm far too practical to take advantage of that fact, but I know it's true. I don't need a special day to express my love for my husband or to feel loved by my husband. We are intentional about expressing our love for each other - through words or actions - and I feel it every single day.

My practicality is another reason why I dislike Valentine's Day: Flowers don't cost as much as they do on Valentine's Day. Neither does that box of chocolates. Or that prix fixe menu. Every store and restaurant is taking advantage of the poor schlubs who are only romantic one day of the year and are therefore pressured to be romantic on this one day of the year that they're willing to pay $60 for flowers that only cost $19.99 the rest of the year. It's insane, and I refuse to be part of it.

I prefer my way: Take Valentine's Day off. I have no expectations of my husband on this day so he can't fail to deliver, but the other 364 days of the year, he is required to treat me like the princess that I am and he never fails. He gets to be romantic in his own way without some unrealistic expectations brought on by some "love holiday," and I get to feel loved and adored every single day! Oh sure, we've done things on Valentine's Day or said it was for Valentine's Day, but really, we'd do it anyway. For example, last weekend we took a road trip to DC to see our alma mater play basketball and said it was for Valentine's Day. Really, if it had been January 14th, we would've done it anyway. Calling it a Valentine's Day trip helps others understand and categorize us.

I'm also very aware that there are many people who don't have a Valentine, and much like my relationship with my husband, I don't like to wait for some prescribed holiday to make sure that these people feel loved. As much as some try to incorporate friends and family into Valentine's Day, I think the day is really Singles Awareness Day for a lot of single adolescents and adults. The love of a friend is not the same as the love of a partner, and it feels patronizing to associate friendship and family with Valentine's Day. I'm the same friend on February 13th as I am on February 14th so drawing attention to our relationship on Valentine's Day is counterproductive. And because I'm the same friend, I think it's important for me to acknowledge that my friend who wishes she had a boyfriend on February 11th may feel sad that she doesn't have one on February 14th and giving her extra attention isn't going to change that- as though me loving her makes up for the fact that she doesn't have a boyfriend. I'm just that fabulous! Right. I love my family, but it's not the same as the love I have for my husband. Sorry family. 

So I'm going to have a Monday, and you can have whatever day you want. Just please don't shove your love down my throat, unless you're prepared to do it every other day as well.

Last night I saw... what was my point?

Yes, I am aware I haven't blogged in a while.

I have tried to write, really I have, but I've been losing steam. I start a post and halfway through I forget my point, or realize I have no point, or just get tired of typing and log out of blogger. That used to happen to me occasionally, but now it happens every time I sit down to blog. I thought maybe it was because I didn't have much to say, but that's not true - I have lots of ideas. So what the heck is wrong with me?

Oh yeah. I have ADHD.

I am exhausted all the time. It's not the lack of sleep thing anymore - I've sorta developed a schedule. This is more mental exhaustion than physical exhaustion, and it's because I exert an extraordinary amount of mental energy trying to stay focused and on-task during the day that I am completely wiped out by the time I get home. Consequently, my brain does what it does naturally - gets bored easily, loses focus, and bounces from idea to idea. Unfortunately, it also means that I can't stay on task long enough to finish an entire blog post. I'm getting incredibly frustrated just writing these few paragraphs, and this is pretty short compared to the other stuff I've been writing.

I have a bunch of brilliant posts in progress I promise. Maybe someday I'll actually finish them...

GO PACK GO!!!

The Packers are going to the Super Bowl!

I'm happy.

Go Pack Go!

Put my money where my mouth is

On my one-year anniversary of moving to Charlotte, I reflected on how I'd changed during my year of being a housewife in Charlotte. In that post, I noted that my priorities had shifted and that I didn't think I'd ever move again to benefit my career unless I was certain my husband would benefit as well. I've told my husband something similar many times, and have also told him that if an amazing career opportunity presents itself to him and we have to move again, I will support him 100% and follow him wherever he goes.

Well, it may be time to put my money where my mouth is.

I have not been offered a job anywhere else, but I did just start a job in Charlotte. My husband, on the other hand, was offered a job in Wisconsin where we used to live. It's an exciting opportunity for him, and one that seems to be a natural fit for his skills and experience and personality. I couldn't be happier for him or more proud of him.

It couldn't be worse timing for me.

As I mentioned before, my job isn't my dream job, or even especially challenging. It is a job, however, and I like what I'm doing. And I'm very good at it. The thought of leaving my job after just a few weeks, of starting the job hunting process over again, of potentially being a housewife again ... it's a little overwhelming. I'm not sure that I want to do it again.

And I hate snow. It was 60 degrees here on Wednesday. I doubt that will happen in January in Wisconsin.

My husband is not happy in his job here, and I don't blame him. He's taken quite a few hits and he's frankly outgrown his job. He deserves better and he's earned the opportunity that he's been offered in Wisconsin. Even if we decide to stay in Charlotte, I doubt he'll stay at his company. I don't want him to stay there. But that opens up a door of even more unknowns because we don't know when he'll find something new and if he'll even like it if he does.

But I just started my job.

But we would be closer to family and friends which is very appealing.

But I love Charlotte. There I said it. I love Charlotte. Charlotte has been good for me. Granted, this may all change now that I'm not strictly a housewife, but thus far, I'm still enjoying my life in Charlotte.

I don't know what it will be like in Wisconsin this time around. I don't know if I'll have a job, or if I'll be satisfied being a housewife in Wisconsin until I can find a job. I know I won't have my country club, but I will have other things that I don't have here, like my family and friend's houses to go visit instead.

My husband and I have a lot to think about and talk about this weekend.

ADHD, medication, and motherhood - Part 2

In Part 1 of this post, I gave some background about my struggle with ADHD and the conflict I felt between taking medication to advance my career at the expense of becoming a mother. Even though that post has no comments, I've received more feedback and emails about it than any other post I've written. I interpreted that to mean that I touched on a couple of important issues for women, but these are issues that we're still not comfortable discussing publicly. For that reason, I think this is going to be an issue I'll be revisiting often, but hopefully from a different angle each time.

This post is going to pick up where I left off last time and fill you in on my thought process while I was making my decision. I was considering whether to take medication for my ADHD. I left off wondering whether a PhD and a career in academia would be fulfilling or if I would regret not having children. I sought out advice and guidance from others, but encountered more frustration than support.

I'm a reflective and instinctive person by nature, so even though I talked about my struggle with others, I knew that my answer would have to come from what I was feeling and not what I was thinking. On an intellectual level, I knew there were women who balanced work and family. I knew medication could be a short-term solution and that I could stop if I were to get pregnant or wanted to get pregnant. I knew I was legally entitled to disability accommodations. I also knew I had nothing to be ashamed of, that ADHD is real despite the public misperceptions. Intellectually, I understood this.

My intelligence and rationality couldn't overcome my gut feelings, however. I knew there were women who balanced work and family, but I felt like my ADHD would never allow me to fully balance the two in a way that would work long-term. I knew that I could stop taking medication to have a baby, but I've always felt that I will have difficulty getting pregnant and that "medication break" could extend for years. I also knew that even though I had a right to accommodations, the faculty looked down on me for asking for them and they treated me like I was dumb or incompetent. Even though I knew I had nothing to be ashamed of, I felt ashamed.

On the other hand, I didn't have the biological drive toward motherhood that I thought I should or that I felt I should. Kids bugged me. That's not entirely true. I adore my niece and nephew (they're the greatest kids ever but I'm sure I think that because I get to spoil them, feed them sugar, and send them back to their parents) and I enjoy spending time with my friends and their kids. I don't enjoy the temper tantrums or the child-centered conversations or the general adjustment of my life to suit the needs of kids. As much as my breeding friends assured me that having children was worth all the sacrifices, they often expressed jealousy at my life and resentment toward theirs, especially when I got to do things they wished they could do, from the simple, like going out to nice dinners whenever I wanted, to the extravagant, like going to Spain. I couldn't ignore those feelings either. I love my friends, but I did not want to become them.

All of these issues created the confusion and the conflict I felt, but my husband was really the one underlying force behind my decision-making. He has always been incredibly supportive and encouraging of my career path, but I also know that he wants children. In a lot of ways, he is a big kid and for a while I was concerned that I would end up parenting my husband and my child, rather than have a partner in raising a child. That concern was misguided. He will be an amazing dad and any child will be lucky to have him as a father.

My hesitations had more to do with his job demands than any concerns about his parenting skills. His job is incredibly unpredictable in terms of hours and travel, so I can't always count on him to be home at a certain time. This is annoying but generally fine when it's just the two of us, but if there was a child involved, I don't think it would be okay. There could easily be days when he wouldn't see our kids, leaving me as the primary caretaker for the kids. Of course I could have help - I would need help - but I also know that help doesn't come cheap and I'd probably be working to pay for a nanny. I know my work would suffer because I couldn't be at every meeting, go to every conference, or travel to collect my data because I wouldn't have the flexibility. One of us would need to have a job that had consistent hours, jobs that didn't require a fifty-plus hour time commitment each week. I knew faculty jobs - especially tenure-track faculty jobs - wouldn't meet this criteria. I knew my husband would never be satisfied in a job that fit that criteria either.

As much as I believe in and am thankful for women's liberation and equal rights, the reality is that marriage isn't about equality - it's about partnership. Sometimes one person has to make a sacrifice in order to do what is best for both spouses. In our case, one of us was going to have to sacrifice our career ambitions in order for us to have a family. When I honestly looked at the dual-career couples in my field who were making it work, I saw that one person had a stable 9 to 5 job and the other had the PhD, and I knew that would never be my husband and me if we continued on our current paths.

So in addition to the concerns I had about taking medication and what that meant for me professionally and personally, I also had to decide if we did have a child, could I ask my husband to give up his career so I could pursue mine, or was I willing to give up mine so he could pursue his?

Stay tuned...

I hate Snow

Last week I enjoyed the three inches of snow that kept me home from work for three days. Today I hate the snow that delayed my husband's flight so that he missed his connection to get back home to Charlotte. Instead of coming home tonight and spending the night with me, working all day, and flying out again tomorrow, he'll just be staying in Michigan all week. I guess it's convenient that his connection was through Detroit.

I hate you, Snow.

But I think my husband hates you more.

I've had enough of winter. I'm ready to wear sandals again (my toes are painted lime green and I want to show them off!) I know my winter has been nothing compared to what I could have if I lived in the Midwest, but I've had enough to remind me that I don't like winter. At all.

I wonder if there are any job openings at the University of the Virgin Islands.

I lived in the Midwest my entire life and I always disliked winter, but it never really bothered me. It actually bothers me now. I hate seeing temperatures drop below 40 degrees, I hate snow and ice and slush, and I hate heavy coats and hats and gloves. I hate shoveling and scraping and chopping ice. I hate being cold.

But most of all, I hate that at this time of year, the weather always seems to interfere with travel plans.

I'm ready for Summer.

Why I'll never join Weight Watchers

My sister-in-law joined Weight Watchers and is having great success on the program. In six weeks, she's lost 26 pounds. How do I know this? She told me. Every five seconds. For three days straight.

My sister-in-law is diabetic, so losing weight is a big deal for her. She's been able to avoid insulin, and reduced the amount of medications signficantly. I'm very happy for her, and I told her that. I thought that would be the end of the conversation.

Oh how wrong I was.

At dinner, she told me the news. Later on in the dinner, she told me she was cold because she's lost 26 pounds. Still later, for no reason that I can ascertain, she told me again. Later, after we'd made our plans for the following day, she realized she had to change the plans because she had a meeting she'd forgotten about - she was doing Weight Watchers and she had to go to a meeting, and her normal meeting fell on Christmas so she had to find a new meeting. And she had to go to the meeting because she's lost 26 pounds already and reduced her medications.

In case she hadn't already mentioned it.

The next day, we had to scrap our original plans to accomodate her meeting (I was fine with that). We had drama to deal with trying to coordinate everyone's schedules and preferences, namely from my mother-in-law, and made a new plan and then headed out to lunch together. And then came the menu selection and determination of number of points of each entree - because my sister-in-law was doing Weight Watchers, the new plan that Jennifer Hudson followed to lose her weight, and she'd already lost 26 pounds in six weeks. Then we went shopping, and she was trying to find new clothes because nothing fit because guess what? She lost 26 pounds in six weeks doing Weight Watchers.

I think Weight Watchers is a cult.

I don't know if it's the commercials or the meetings, but this seems to be a common thread for anybody I've known who has done Weight Watchers (or really followed any specific weight loss plan that is working). They talk about it constantly, and want everybody around them to know that A) they've joined Weight Watchers, and B) how much weight they've lost as a result of their participation in the cult. The constant need to share and talk about food and exercise and points and their program concerns me. Being conscious of what you're eating is one thing - obsessing about it is completely different.

Plus, I really don't care.

I don't tell people I don't care - at least not to their faces. I'm happy for people who set a goal and obtain it, I really am, and I will tell them that I am. But I won't ask for details, and I generally won't reciprocate with my own story. I will occassionally share if I think it's important to a story I'm going to tell, such as stories of gym whores knocking out the power on my treadmill or, more likely, because I want to complain. But generally speaking, I don't like to talk about exercising (because I hate it) or a weight loss journey (because I'm not on one). To me, asking about that stuff is like asking if I shaved my legs today (no, I didn't and they're very hairy. Aren't you glad you asked?). It's a task to be checked off, but does not need to be discussed regularly. And it's none of anyone else's business to ask. I'll share if I want. Otherwise, back off.

I'm pretty sure I feel this way because of my social work background, and the time I've spent around people with eating disorders and addictions. I'm sensitive to the relationships people have with food and exercise and counting calories, and I worry about people who display obsessive thought patterns about the topic. It's not healthy to think about food and exercise constantly - it's not healthy to think about any one thing constantly. And I distinctly remember that group therapy for eating disorders can be dangerous, especially for young women, because the group members sometimes try to one-up each other on who consumed the fewest calories or exercised the longest. It's a slippery slope from support to competition, which only exacerbates the overwhelming desire for control and perfection that is commonly exhibited by people with eating disorders. So the more someone wants to talk about exercise or food or weight loss, the more I suspect all is not well.

I am the opposite of what most health and fitness experts (or just random people who write about health and fitness) say: I don't want your support. I don't want to share my goals. I don't want to be held accountable. The more you ask, the less motivated I become. In fact, I'll think you're nosy. And I'll assume you're projecting your own issues on me, and I'll probably diagnose you with an eating disorder.

So I highly doubt you'll ever see me at a Weight Watchers meeting. But congratulations if it's working for you. Just please don't tell me about it.

Do.

I have nothing to say today because all I can think about is what I want to DO today.

I've been procrastinating on putting away the Christmas decorations because the house just seems so sad when they all go away. It's time though. Boo.

I want to go to the grocery store. I've spent the last two days watching the Food Network and reading a bunch of food blogs, and now I'm itching to try a new recipe or two. I actually have time to cook and I want to take advantage of it!

I have a resume to send out. Yes, I realize I just got a job. It's a long story, and I'll write more about this situation this weekend.

I need to hit the gym. My gym has been closed for the last two days and won't be opening until noon today because of the snow and ice. Mondays are my normal days off so that was fine, and I really didn't care about yesterday either, but I know I should go today. Should go, not want to go. I miss water aerobics.

I want to enjoy another unexpected day off. I know I'm lucky to have these snow days, and I want to take advantage of them when they roll around. This is a chance for me to do all the things I've been putting off or haven't had the time to do.

Time to stop writing and start doing!