I'm half-thinking about creating a new blog entirely and calling it "The Lies of Motherhood," because every day I have to laugh at myself for thinking that this was going to be slightly more predictable and easier than it is.
Here are my thoughts of the day:
Lie #1 of Motherhood: You won't be able to leave your child's side for at least the first six months.
Ok, look it is hard for me to leave Abby for more than an hour or two. But any time I hear a mom say "Oh, I just enjoy being with him/her so much that I don't really need to have any time to myself," I throw up a little in my mouth. Stop. Just stop. You are a human being. And human beings need the occasional five-minute increments of silence (or, in my case, the occasional five-minute increments of listening to the car radio at a higher volume). Start being honest with yourself. Or, if you are a parent that truly feels this way...knock it off. You're making the rest of us look bad.
Furthermore, I get that there may be some insecurities associated with leaving the little peanut. In my case, I leave Abby with either my parents or my hubby's parents. All four people have had years upon years of experience raising kidlets. There's really no reason for me to fret when she's with them. So, am I a little anxious when I walk out the door? Sure. Do I tell myself to shut the !@#$ up and get myself a latte while I can? Absolutely. And do I enjoy every sip of that latte (as well as all of the noises that come along with making a latte)? You bet your gosh darn tookus I do. (Sorry, working on cleaning up the language before my peanut becomes a parrot.)
Lie #2 of Motherhood: Only I know what will calm down my child.
Again, I say "nay nay." Just the other day, while visiting Naomi (a good friend who has been a nanny for more kids than I can say), Crabigail was threatening to make a full-fledged appearance. Naomi scooped her up and started swinging her in a way that I've never tried, and her little eyes just lit up with delight. I logged that one away in the back of my brain for future reference.
Sure, Tim & I know Abby better than anyone else, and we're going to be able to tell by even the slightest cry what she's asking for (most days, that is). But when she's fussy, it's basically just a marathon of "Let's try this" or "Let's try that" moments until we finally find something that soothes the savage beast. I'm not too proud of a person to close the doors to possible soothing techniques for my kid, especially when I'm so new at this.
Lie #3 of Motherhood: Life before your child will seem so meaningless now.
I think about this one all the time. Now, on this one, I'm willing to fully admit that I may be of the minority opinion. But the truth is my life before was not meaningless at all, and I actually think of all the little moments and big accomplishments of the past with a high level of fondness in my heart. And my life now is so incredibly wonderful that I can't imagine it any differently. The point is - it's comparing apples and oranges. All of the joy, sadness, anxiety, and excitement that I felt in life has led me up to this point, and all of those life experiences are going to make me a better mother. I don't feel like I can shrug that off as meaningless. Furthermore, I would be a liar if I said I didn't miss certain parts of my pre-baby life. I miss being able to go out for drinks and hand my hubby the keys at the end of the night. I miss cooking dinner on a regular basis. I miss being able to spontaneously do anything. But that doesn't mean that I don't appreciate and love my life now!
I actually get somewhat frustrated when I hear people say that being a stay at home mom is harder than any other job on the planet for this same reason. Again - apples and oranges in my book. The level of exhaustion that I feel after a sleepless night and a restless day with my munchkin is so starkly different than the exhaustion I felt as a full-time graduate student who worked two jobs and picked up extra hours as a babysitter on the side. The level of stress from one lifestyle is not greater than the other because they aren't even comparable. I will say this, though - the rewards that you feel from the job of stay at home mom are so much greater than any reward I received from a business or non-profit organization.
Annnnnd that's all the time that the little one will allow me to have.
Friday, April 19, 2013
Friday, April 12, 2013
Caribou: A Eulogy
Well, until my daughter chooses to nap on a regular basis, there will be no regular blog postings. Sorry, avid readers!! (Bahaha...avid readers of my blog....)
I received some incredibly sad news the other day: The Caribou Coffee which I worked at and frequented for what felt like a lifetime will be permanently shutting its doors as of this Sunday at noon.
Let's be honest, Caribou was never exactly a stellar work environment when you viewed it from the "Does corporate take care of their underlings?" viewpoint. For starters, there were no breaks. Ever. How they wiggled around that whole legal issue was the whole "flexible employer" bit that they wrote into their handbook - "Hey, you can take your break whenever you want! We won't schedule you a break 'cause we don't want to hold you down like that. Aren't we awesome?!" Well, not quite, 'cause in what retail or food service position can you possibly find time to sit down and get some food in your system? No, avid readers, the only time you got a break was if you were a smoker - or when you worked with someone who you could trust behind the counter alone for more than five minutes. Secondly, Caribou always was looking for a way to dock your pay. Whether you decided to move up the corporate ladder (and therefore not receive tips), or stay a shift supervisor (and get cut in wages if you worked with another shift supervisor), corporate got really creative at unnecessarily pinching your pennies out of your pocket.
Now, I - unlike my friends and former coworkers - did not lose my job. I left my shift supervisor position at Caribou a while back when I got a position at Trader Joe's. I made the switch for the main motivator of any work-related decision: TJ's paid me a whole lot more, both in actual dolla dolla bills and in benefits. But I found myself constantly coming back to Caribou to visit and work on my homework for my graduate degree, and it wasn't just 'cause you got unlimited refills on coffee when you stuck around for hours at a time. It was all about the people. The Caribou that I worked at was very good at one thing in particular, and that was picking the best of the best people to work there. I truly enjoyed working there because I knew that I would always leave with a smile on my face. The employees were quirky, hilarious, hard-working, and (usually) highly intelligent.
And the customers? Well, there's always a couple that will get under your skin. I always joked with people that I would one day write a book called The Barista Chronicles, simply because 1.) You couldn't make the !@#$ up that I've seen and heard from people, and 2.) It's not like I worked at a bar - you couldn't blame the crazy on one too many shots.
Here's a fun example that, I swear to you, I will never forget as long as I live. It was a snowy day during the holiday season, so shopping was in full-force and there were a bunch of non-regulars in our store that wanted their large, white chocolate, peppermint mochas fifteen minutes ago. I was working with two newer employees, and we had a full lobby and a line halfway to the door. I'm working on register and the other two employees were doing a pretty good job at working a double person bar. Up walks a woman in her late-fifties. She was pretty put-together - long, white hair, make-up was on flawlessly, wearing a dress coat with a nicer purse. She put her purse on the counter and angrily spat her order at me, then huffed as I gave her the price of her drink with a big ol' smile on my face (sorry, I refuse to let grumpy customers make me grumpy...and besides, my happiness usually just peeved them off more, and I enjoyed that). She paid (and didn't tip), then moved to the pick-up counter. While I was taking the next customer's order, I heard her snap at my coworkers - "Could you hurry up please?! I have a baby in the car."
Now, it was snowing outside. Heavily. And this woman had four drinks in front of hers that had to be made. My two coworkers looked at me absolutely horrified. I told them to both get on register and I would take care of it - simply because I wouldn't take her crap. I KNEW she didn't have a baby with her - she just knew the magic words to get her froo-froo drink without having to wait. So, I quickly served up her beverage, and she said "Oh, I didn't want you to put me before anyone else." I responded curtly with "Well, I sure wouldn't want to potentially endanger a life because your drink took too long." She scooped her drink up and went to sit a high-top table with her husband. At no point did a baby come into the picture. What a shocker.
So, while I was out in the lobby, wiping down tables and refilling sugar canisters, the woman comes back up to me and barks -
"I just want to let you know that we are leaving, because I don't like sitting at a table that's so high that it makes me feel like I'm sitting on a perch."
"...Um, alright. Well, enjoy the rest of your day!"
"You know, you really should do something about all of these college students. Taking up tables all day with their books..."
*suppressed snort of laughter*
"I'm serious! You should ban them from your shop."
At this point, I just couldn't deal with it anymore. "Right. 'Cause that will work out great in a college town."
Like I said, you can't make this up.
But, there will also be the customers that I will never, ever forget because of how they touched my life. Like Hank - the highly intelligent, highly sarcastic, and all around amazing guy who ordered a small cup of coffee in his handmade mug (and the older the "sludge" at the bottom of the pot, the better). Hank is the kind of guy that you truly look forward to seeing at work, because you could choose the level of conversation you wanted to have. If you wanted a mindless chat about how much you couldn't stand your hours being slashed, you've got it. If you wanted an intellectual conversation about the polarization of the House and the Senate, you could pick his brain for hours. Or Tony - the regular who owned the Hallmark across the plaza. He would go out of his way to bring us balloons, flowers, or even chocolate, just because he appreciated our smiles at the start of his day.
All in all, the closing of Caribou is a forced closing of a wonderful chapter in my life:
When I look back on my life and I reflect on all of the nonsense I had to go thru while I sifted through my twenties, I will always, always remember the coffee shop and the Bou crew with nothing but the most profound fondness in my heart. I'm going to miss that place and people there terribly.
I received some incredibly sad news the other day: The Caribou Coffee which I worked at and frequented for what felt like a lifetime will be permanently shutting its doors as of this Sunday at noon.
Let's be honest, Caribou was never exactly a stellar work environment when you viewed it from the "Does corporate take care of their underlings?" viewpoint. For starters, there were no breaks. Ever. How they wiggled around that whole legal issue was the whole "flexible employer" bit that they wrote into their handbook - "Hey, you can take your break whenever you want! We won't schedule you a break 'cause we don't want to hold you down like that. Aren't we awesome?!" Well, not quite, 'cause in what retail or food service position can you possibly find time to sit down and get some food in your system? No, avid readers, the only time you got a break was if you were a smoker - or when you worked with someone who you could trust behind the counter alone for more than five minutes. Secondly, Caribou always was looking for a way to dock your pay. Whether you decided to move up the corporate ladder (and therefore not receive tips), or stay a shift supervisor (and get cut in wages if you worked with another shift supervisor), corporate got really creative at unnecessarily pinching your pennies out of your pocket.
Now, I - unlike my friends and former coworkers - did not lose my job. I left my shift supervisor position at Caribou a while back when I got a position at Trader Joe's. I made the switch for the main motivator of any work-related decision: TJ's paid me a whole lot more, both in actual dolla dolla bills and in benefits. But I found myself constantly coming back to Caribou to visit and work on my homework for my graduate degree, and it wasn't just 'cause you got unlimited refills on coffee when you stuck around for hours at a time. It was all about the people. The Caribou that I worked at was very good at one thing in particular, and that was picking the best of the best people to work there. I truly enjoyed working there because I knew that I would always leave with a smile on my face. The employees were quirky, hilarious, hard-working, and (usually) highly intelligent.
And the customers? Well, there's always a couple that will get under your skin. I always joked with people that I would one day write a book called The Barista Chronicles, simply because 1.) You couldn't make the !@#$ up that I've seen and heard from people, and 2.) It's not like I worked at a bar - you couldn't blame the crazy on one too many shots.
Here's a fun example that, I swear to you, I will never forget as long as I live. It was a snowy day during the holiday season, so shopping was in full-force and there were a bunch of non-regulars in our store that wanted their large, white chocolate, peppermint mochas fifteen minutes ago. I was working with two newer employees, and we had a full lobby and a line halfway to the door. I'm working on register and the other two employees were doing a pretty good job at working a double person bar. Up walks a woman in her late-fifties. She was pretty put-together - long, white hair, make-up was on flawlessly, wearing a dress coat with a nicer purse. She put her purse on the counter and angrily spat her order at me, then huffed as I gave her the price of her drink with a big ol' smile on my face (sorry, I refuse to let grumpy customers make me grumpy...and besides, my happiness usually just peeved them off more, and I enjoyed that). She paid (and didn't tip), then moved to the pick-up counter. While I was taking the next customer's order, I heard her snap at my coworkers - "Could you hurry up please?! I have a baby in the car."
Now, it was snowing outside. Heavily. And this woman had four drinks in front of hers that had to be made. My two coworkers looked at me absolutely horrified. I told them to both get on register and I would take care of it - simply because I wouldn't take her crap. I KNEW she didn't have a baby with her - she just knew the magic words to get her froo-froo drink without having to wait. So, I quickly served up her beverage, and she said "Oh, I didn't want you to put me before anyone else." I responded curtly with "Well, I sure wouldn't want to potentially endanger a life because your drink took too long." She scooped her drink up and went to sit a high-top table with her husband. At no point did a baby come into the picture. What a shocker.
So, while I was out in the lobby, wiping down tables and refilling sugar canisters, the woman comes back up to me and barks -
"I just want to let you know that we are leaving, because I don't like sitting at a table that's so high that it makes me feel like I'm sitting on a perch."
"...Um, alright. Well, enjoy the rest of your day!"
"You know, you really should do something about all of these college students. Taking up tables all day with their books..."
*suppressed snort of laughter*
"I'm serious! You should ban them from your shop."
At this point, I just couldn't deal with it anymore. "Right. 'Cause that will work out great in a college town."
Like I said, you can't make this up.
But, there will also be the customers that I will never, ever forget because of how they touched my life. Like Hank - the highly intelligent, highly sarcastic, and all around amazing guy who ordered a small cup of coffee in his handmade mug (and the older the "sludge" at the bottom of the pot, the better). Hank is the kind of guy that you truly look forward to seeing at work, because you could choose the level of conversation you wanted to have. If you wanted a mindless chat about how much you couldn't stand your hours being slashed, you've got it. If you wanted an intellectual conversation about the polarization of the House and the Senate, you could pick his brain for hours. Or Tony - the regular who owned the Hallmark across the plaza. He would go out of his way to bring us balloons, flowers, or even chocolate, just because he appreciated our smiles at the start of his day.
All in all, the closing of Caribou is a forced closing of a wonderful chapter in my life:
- Caribou was the first place I went to when my husband deployed to Afghanistan, because I knew Joe and Alex would be there to give me a hug, let me awkwardly cry, and make me a kick-ass, super-fatty cup of hot chocolate.
- Lauren and I shared many beers at the BWW's across the street after long closes, 'cause we knew we could trust each other enough to bitch about work just long enough so it would feel good, but then move on to new topics quick enough where we could leave the night on a fantastic note.
- Kevin and I shared way, way too many awkward laughs behind the counter while discussing the most horrific B-movies we had ever seen (followed by in-depth conversations about religion and history).
- Greg...well, it always amazed me that Greg never got fired. Work was just way too damn fun when he was around. Between hiding timers for the next shift to have to find, freezing peoples' tips (I think our buddy Ryan even put some in jello at one point)...there was no end to the madness.
- Jan had a way of reminding me that you could be polite to people without taking any of their crap, and I loved every minute I worked with her.
When I look back on my life and I reflect on all of the nonsense I had to go thru while I sifted through my twenties, I will always, always remember the coffee shop and the Bou crew with nothing but the most profound fondness in my heart. I'm going to miss that place and people there terribly.
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