Category Archives: Working Mom

Jun 28

Success

How do you measure success?  Is success attainable?  Once you’ve obtained success – is that it or are we constantly moving those goal posts?  Its a tough concept and is so often perceived as the root to happiness.  At one point are we content with what we have achieved?

I feel like my life has always been in pursuit of more.  Bigger, better… more.  I can’t say its a bad thing.  I could rest on my laurels at any point and say “there I’ve done it” – nabbed that client, achieved that promotion, started a family etc.  But I can’t – I am always striving for more.  Whether that’s a good thing is tough to say.  Am I putting too much pressure on myself to achieve?  Am I creating stress in my life in not settling for what I have already?  Sure, I guess that’s always the case.

Now get ready – are you sitting down?  Here’s where I get all existential on your poor ass.  I think this is the meaning of life.  Simply put – experience.  Learning more, striving for more, feeling more.  Its all a spiritual education and experience is the teacher.

When I think about life this way, I feel more open to whatever is thrown my way.  Good or bad – this is just further education.  Take from it what you can – learn from mistakes, learn from triumphs.  It certainly makes things easier to handle when taking this view.

And achieving SUCCESS is simply striving to learn more.  Happiness is enjoying the process.

PS – this one is for you Maman!

Jun 25

The Hairy Eyeball

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The hairy eyeball.  Its happened to all of us.  That moment when you catch someone staring at you – the up and down.   My Mom calls it “unzipping”.  My reaction is to always go negative – they must think my outfit is stupid, they notice the chipped nail polish, the zit on my chin, the peanut butter finger prints around my knees, the bad hair day.  Or worse, the way I’m handling my kids, the food in my grocery cart, the difficult business call I am taking on my cell.  I always go negative and assume the worst.

The truth is however, if its me doing the staring its generally positive – a cute haircut, nice outfit or impressive feat of juggling that has caught my attention.  I notice myself doing the staring and feel remorse.  Its at those moments I wish it was socially acceptable to yell at strangers:

“Hey – I love your hair!  Who cuts it for you?  Did you need a flat iron to get that look?”

“OMG those shoes are fantastic.  They look amazing with those pants.  I wish I could pull that off.  Good for you.”

“You are amazing.  You’re carrying your toddler on your shoulders, juggling bags and groceries and are heading home to start cooking dinner.  You are my hero and you deserve a medal!”

I fantasize sometimes when driving the car or pushing the shopping cart that I can hurl these compliments on the unsuspecting women passing by.  Social conventions prevent me from doing so, but next time you see me staring you can be assured that I think you’re awesome!

Jun 21

Dinner.

Fine dining with Shorty #2

Fine dining with Shorty #2

Who knew a meal could be such a pain in the ass!  Seriously.  Every day around 1pm as I sit down to lunch I realize I haven’t done a damn thing about dinner.  Next follows the mad panic to figure it out.  The daily hunting and gathering is a constant irritation which provides nothing but stress… oh yeah and in the end sustenance.

We roll in the door sometime between 5:45 and 6 – the kids are starved, we’re pooped and bedtime is just around the corner.  The first order of business is pulling together some sort of quasi-healthy, hopefully palatable meal that will please 2 kids and 2 adults.  And to think we can face this incredible challenge not once a week – but 5 nights in a row.  Awesome!

I know what you’re thinking – make a plan, cook ahead, yada yada yada.  Tried it all – the simple fact of the matter is that no matter how organized we can be on this front, I’m still the person who hits the supermarket during the after work commute hoping to find something for dinner!  Don’t even get me started on groceries – that my friends is a whole other blog!

We have successfully followed a cook ahead plan – a freezer full of curries and soups has been a blessing – but man, I’m BORED of chicken soup.  The nightly meal plan (Mon – Chicken, Tues – Pasta etc) never works.  Who wants to live life so rigidly?  Not to mention the long term planning that needs to go into those menus.

So here we are again, 1pm and I’m texting J – “what do you feel like for supper?” and the response follows one of 3 routes.

1. “I have no idea.  Whatever you want is fine.”  Which translates to: “I have no idea so you think of something.”

2. “Let’s have soup.” Which translates to a pantry lucky dip.

3. “Take out?”  Which translates to “Take out.”

We’re lucky, we live in a great foodie city and can order cheap, fantastic and bonus – healthy food on the way home.  We eat sushi like its McDonald’s in this town.  However, we can’t do this every night.  So begins the conversation – pasta?  No.  Chicken?  No.  Delicious braised lamb with couscous and white bean ragout?  Are you kidding me?  I wish.

This doesn’t even factor in the curve ball of Shorty #1.  A great eater initially, #1 has grown pickier in her old age.  She loves a finely grilled hot dog or a delicate macaroni with cheese.  Occasionally she enjoys a beautiful cheese pizza.  She goes absolutely crazy when anything comes served in a sauce (save for her beloved pasta of course).  We are trying to re-broaden her culinary horizons, but so far this continues to be an uphill battle.

Shorty #2 is far less… discerning.  She will venture into the more exotic territories of the spice route with curries and other savoury dishes.  But she too has her moods and sometimes only scrambled eggs and bapbap (aka ketchup) will do.

So how do we plan a meal for 4 that will appeal to all?  That is sauce, gluten and dairy free.  That tastes amazing to everyone and won’t contribute to our culinary ennui.  Beats me – but whoever figures this out should win the Nobel Prize!

Jun 19

Come on Vogue…

The Cannes Red Carpet - that's my back.

The Cannes Red Carpet – that’s my back.

I’m really lucky.  In my line of work I get to attend some great events.  Fancy do’s with beautiful people and spare no expense excess.  It can be a lot of fun – but I always face the same problem (get ready – this is one of those problems that falls in the “My diamond shoes are too tight” category).  I never know what to wear.

The Red Carpet at the Cannes Film Festival.  The black-tie Kennedy Centre Honors.  Fancy cocktail party outside the Louvre in Paris.  Really, what do I care.  The paparazzi aren’t photographing me.  But nevertheless, I’m a woman and I care about fashion and how I look.  So how on earth do I handle caviar styles with a mac and cheese budget?   All these events are populated by well-heeled attendees who are particularly well-heeled in their Christian Laboutins and couture.  I on the other hand will be wearing something from the Spring 2000 line of The Gap (Black Magic strikes again?) and accessories courtesy of Joe Fresh.

For the record, I always buy my accessories at the local Superstore with the Joe Fresh capsule shop.  Here’s how it goes:

“I love that necklace.”

“Oh this old thing.  I picked it up while buying avocados and diapers.”

Classy, right?  Super fancy.  But its actually ok.  I would love a beautiful couture dress, don’t get me wrong.  But the reality is, I don’t live in the champagne and caviar world.  I just visit it occasionally.

However, on my last business trip to Paris I was given a treat – a beautiful dress from Lanvin.  I couldn’t believe the generosity and was truly touched by the gesture.  This dress is a beaut!  A pretty colour with the perfect drape.  Perhaps I could get used to a little high fashion in my wardrobe after all.

A selfie of the new dress...

A selfie of the new dress…

A little something from Lanvin

A little something from Lanvin

 

Jun 10

I’ve Got a Crush on You

I have a crush.  I admit it.  A complete and total, school-girl like infatuation.  I can’t stop thinking about it, I can’t stop dreaming about it, I can’t stop lusting…

I am in love with a jacket.

Not just ANY jacket.  A blazer to be precise.  A Smythe blazer.  Its SO bad ass!  Its black and cut in all the right places.  The peaked collar gives a little polish while the cut-outs and padded shoulders give it just the right amount of edge.

Either of these Smythe beauties will do fine.

Either of these Smythe beauties will do fine.

I want it… and I can’t have it.

I’m cheap.  I like a sale (remember Black Magic Woman?).  The Smythes are beautiful but ringing in around $600, I just can’t do it.  Childcare bills, swimming lessons, summer camp are all taking precedence over me being united with the object of my obsession.

I love you, you beautiful work of tailoring.  Maybe someday we will be together.

Jun 6

Honesty is the Best Policy

Check out that poker face.

Check out that poker face.

My 6 year old (aka Shorty #1) has always been brutally honest.  The art of lying has (thankfully) been completely lost on her.  She recently learned that perhaps bending the truth was the ideal way to get out of a sticky situation – but she has a terrible poker face and I can always tell:

Me: “Did you hit your sister?”

Shorty #1: “No”

Me: “Are you sure?”

Shorty #1: “Umm, no.”

Me: “Do you want to change your answer?”

Shorty #1: “She was bugging me!!!”

I know I should be happy about Shorty’s honesty.  Hopefully she’ll remain a terrible liar into her teens.  That’ll make my life MUCH easier.  The only trouble is that right now, she doesn’t just speak the truth – the kid is BRUTALLY HONEST.

For instance, last night I was bustling around with the usual evening pre-bedtime rituals – kitchen tidying, kid bathing, teeth brushing, vitamin dosing, toilet paper roll changing, blind closing – you know typical mom duties.  All the while counting down the tasks til I could get into my own pj’s and crawl between the sheets.  Shorty stops me and says “Mom, you know you look really old.”

WHAT?  Are you freaking kidding me with that?  I LOOK OLD?

And it doesn’t stop there.  This is the same kid who comes in for a hug and stops, squeezing my belly saying “Mom.  Your belly is sooooo squishy!!”

Excellent.

So, swallowing my pride I take Shorty #1’s honesty and smile, moving on to the next topic of conversation.  I can’t argue with the truth – let’s just hope it lasts.

May 27

Dear Random Lady

Dear Random Lady I Met at a Party,

Thank you for taking the time to assess my ability to manage my work life and parenthood.  I appreciate your unsolicited opinion on whether I am able to sufficiently care for my kids while working, in your assessment, 17 hour days.  It was incredible to hear your views on the time I spend telecommuting as you seem to be an expert in the field.  I particularly enjoyed your statement that I wasn’t really there for my kids if I was working remotely.

Our 90 second conversation where you initially confused me with someone else was clearly sufficient time for you to accurately determine the health of my relationship with my kids and my husband.  It was also plenty of time for you to fully comprehend both my professional and parenting styles.

Since you have such a prescient viewpoint of how I live my life, you may enjoy reading my blogs to see if your evaluations are correct.  Might I suggest What Do You Do or you may see something more in tune with your own proclivities for mothering in I am, I am, I am Supermom.  I personally would like to recommend Profoundly Profane.  Then you’ll learn the incredible restraint and composure I enacted at said party when I didn’t tell you to mind your own f$&!ing business.

Love,

The Rock and Roll Mom

May 22

Barbie Needs a Job

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When Shorty #1 was born, I vowed we would be those parents that supplied their kids with only good toys.  You know…

1. Toys that educate

2. Toys that are ethically made

3. Toys that are environmentally friendly

4. Toys that are gender neutral

You get the idea.

Fast forward 6 years and you’ll see how impossible it was to stick with the plan.  In that time Toys R Us crept into the picture, as did hand me down toys, as did Disney.   The Polly Pockets invaded and now we’re swimming in a sea of tiny little rubber dresses (for what I guess are little Polly Pocket fetishes).

What could we do?  Sheltering our kids from the reality of the corporate machine that monetizes and markets every TV show and movie franchise with the toys that go with them is an uphill battle.  Especially when they start preschool.  Shorty #1 loves it all.  Who are we tell her not to – all we can do is try and educate her.

So as we discuss the merits of children’s toys, let us jump with both feet into the dialogue about Barbies, shall we?  While I do agree with the argument regarding Barbie propagating unrealistic body images for little girls, I for one played with Barbies growing up and never seemed to notice her shape.  What I did notice was her imaging.

Warning: here’s where I climb up on my soapbox.

I will only contribute to the Barbie franchise IF said Barbie has an actual profession.  Please note that the world’s oldest profession does not count!

Yes, I am sick and tired of Barbies dressed like prostitutes playing role model to our little girls.  If I’m forking over cash for a Barbie she has to have a real job.  Chef Barbie, Teacher Barbie, Dentist Barbie, Computer Programmer Barbie – all of these are ok.  Hell, even Malibu Barbie is a pro-surfer.  I can accept that.  I want to see Lawyer Barbie in an Armani suit or better yet Supreme Court Justice Barbie in robes – that would be amazing.  Nuclear physicist Barbie perhaps or even Entrepreneur Barbie complete with tech conference badge and elevator pitch in hand.

Having a profession is really the tip of the iceberg. Barbie needs to be dressed for the job.  Tell me, why does poor Barbie always have to have her feet positioned in a 180 degree angle to fit into heels?  Really, don’t you think Chef Barbie would be better off with a pair of sensible Crocs?  She could slip on some foie gras in those heels and break her tiny little neck.  Or Dog-Walker Barbie – heels for that job – as if.  Imagine if you will Barbie careening down the street with 5 dogs pulling her along in those shoes.  Wait til they get to the dog park – she’ll be on her ass in no time.

Don’t even get me started on the short skirts and plunging necklines.  I don’t think that a real Dentist wears a micro-mini when seeing back to back patients.  Are you listening Mattel?  Oh and if you are listening, perhaps you could add a few extra millimetres to her waistline while you’re at it?

May 16

Profoundly Profane

I f@#%ing LOVE to swear.  Always have.  I mean it, I f@#%ing LOVE it.

As a rather tightly wound, type-a personality with a penchant for absorbing and experiencing stress – swearing gives me a chance to blow off a little steam.  Who’s kidding who – swearing is f@#%ing cathartic!

Trouble is, with the arrival of the Shorties we have had to curtail the swearing around the house. F@#%!  Seriously, having kids only creates MORE opportunity to swear.  Examples:

1. You just spilled yogurt into the gear shift of my car.  S#*&!

2. All bundled up to leave the house and someone poops.  B@lls!

3. The SuperMom at school drop off lays the guilt trip about you missing the next field trip because you have to work.  B+^$#!!!

See?  So many opportunities when a good F-bomb would help ease the pain, but NO.  Our little dears are still in the throes of language acquisition and what if they (GOD FORBID) dropped a little F@#% you to the preschool teacher – all those years of good parenting and behaviour modelling goes straight out the window.

The real trouble is when I get home from being on the road.  The music business isn’t exactly… dainty… EVERYONE swears… A LOT!  I have to get all my swearing out on the plane.  I have to be so cautious not to let one slip when I’m back in the family fold and when I do I have to start rhyming to cover up. TRUCK, LUCK, SHUCKS.  HIT, BIT, WIT.  ITCH, SNITCH, WITCH.  TRAP, FLAP, CHAP.

In our house we have some emphatic substitutes.  They aren’t very creative but they work.  For instance a long drawn out EFFFFFFFF can ease the pain.

A friend once sent me the best book ever “Depraved and Insulting English” by Peter Novobatzky and Ammon Shea.  Its full of swears that no one knows.  So I can swear away when the kids are around and they don’t bat an eye!  Words like:

Gundygut /GUN dee gut/ n – an offensive, mannerless eater.  As in “YOU GUNDYGUT”

Shilpit /SHILL pit/ adj – Feable, puny or sickly.  Weak, good for nothing, watered down.  As in “THAT’S SHILPIT”

Or when stretched for a quick retort, one can always pick-up the quote made famous by Will Ferrell in the movie Elf – “SON OF A NUTCRACKER.”

The truth is, finding a satisfying way to let the swears fly just takes is a little f@#%ing creativity.

May 9

Black Magic Woman

Black Magic joined me on vacation in Mexico in 2002

In 2000, I took a little trip with some girlfriends down to Seattle for a shopping weekend.    I know we had fun and that we bought a lot of clothes and drank a lot of red wine.  We might have even crashed a wedding.  What I do remember is I bought a little black dress at the Gap Outlet shop for $15.  That LBD has gone on to live a long and fruitful life in my wardrobe and I still rock that bad boy to this day.  Hell, I’ve owned this dress longer than I’ve known my husband.

That’s right – if I amortized the total purchase price over the occasions when I (or others) have worn it, I would be running about 10 cents a wear.

Made of some polyester jersey fabric, the dress looks as good today as the sunny day I bought it from the outlet mall off the I-5.  I can roll it in a ball, pack it in a suitcase, pull it out on arrival with nary a wrinkle in sight.  I’ve worn it through various weight variations including two pregnancies and have loaned it out to friends.  I wash it in the washing machine with regular detergent and hang it to dry and the thing hasn’t frayed or aged a day.  That’s why I like to call it Black Magic.

Its a v-neck, cap sleeve, mid-knee cut with the perfect drape that flatters anyone that wears it.  Sure I’ve had to pop on my beloved Spanx on occasion, but still it works.

Black Magic Cape Town

Out for dinner in Cape Town with Black Magic and Shorty #2 in 2009

I remember first wearing it with a dark denim jean jacket and a pair of cow print black and red clogs (I did tell you I bought this dress in 2000).  Lately I like to pair it with some black patten pumps and a leather jacket.  Add a great choker if the occasion is fancy or a fun long necklace if its a little more casual.  Winter or summer – you can wear this dress any time of year, just change up the accessories to match the season.

In no particular order, I have worn this dress on first dates (including my husband), weddings, my parent’s milestone surprise birthday party, to the rehearsal party for my own wedding, several black tie events, on tour as both a cocktail dress and beach cover-up, on vacations, business functions, several staff holiday parties (its like camouflage – change the accessories and no one remembers the damn thing) at least one (maybe two Juno Awards) and a Grammy Awards.

For the Grammy appearance – I was 6 months pregnant and that dress just morphed around my great big baby bump.  Its like its made of plasma or something out of Star Trek.  I’ve loaned it out to friends and it just seems to shape itself perfectly to the wearer whatever their height and size.

My friend H borrowed Black Magic this past April.

My friend H borrowed Black Magic this past April and rocked it!

I liken it to Willy Wonka’s Everlasting Gobstopper – it won’t wear out.  I’m sure if The Gap knew that this dress was so incredible – they would never want to make it again.  It would negate women from ever needing to buy another LBD in their lifetime.  (OK – thats ridiculous, seeing as I personally own about 10 black dresses.  But to be fair I do work in the music business where black is standard issue and in cases when you’re behind the scenes – a necessity).

I picture some Judy Jetson type picking it up in a futuristic thrift shop in 2113 and wearing it on one of her first dates.  I hope Black Magic brings her as much luck as it has me.  I love you BLACK MAGIC.  You will outlive us all.