Ever feel like the ringmaster in a 3 ring circus? Managing my career, my family and my house is similar to working as a tightrope walker, a lion tamer, and a juggler. I will take these things in that order. The Tightrope walker – As a working mom, it feels like I’m walking a tightrope. Every day, I start out putting one foot in front of the other and look straight ahead. And whatever I do, I try not to look down. By the way, I’m not walking the tightrope in sensible shoes. No… I’m walking in heels. Some days, I make it across to the other side (ta-da!). Other days, I make one false move and I’m face first in the tangle net. And I have to climb my way back up to the top again. The Lion Tamer – If you have teenagers or tweens or one of each (like me), I don’t need to explain this one to you. Some days the lions purr and love to cuddle with me. Other times, they are ferocious and all I can do is throw them a piece of meat and slowly back away from their roar. The Juggler – I juggle schedules which is so much more dangerous than knives and fire torches – okay maybe not the fire torches – but it feels that way, I used to think my busiest day was Tuesday when my son has school and then 3 activities – Hebrew at 4:30; scouts meeting at 7 pm and soccer practice at 8 pm. Now I know my busiest days are the ones ending in the letter “y”. On the four other days of the week, my son has swim practice, Weekends are crammed with soccer games, Sunday school, and choir practice. And this is all just for one kid! Tack on a few more activities and a social life with my older daughter and I’m throwing balls in the air left and right, doing a fancy spin and catching them all in the right order. By the time I get home at night, I’m throwing clothes in the microwave for dinner and food in the dryer. Wait, scratch that and reverse. See what I mean? I’m also taking a big risk this year. A death-defying sideshow featuring me trying to accomplish some of my own career and personal goals like writing more and losing 20 pounds. Can she do it??? Come January, I expect my momentum to kick into high gear as I have to start planning a bar mitzvah. I figure this will give me more to write about and less time to eat.
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Shoes Matter
My parents taught me a lot of important lessons to remember in life. Be kind to others. Honesty is the best policy. Always wear clean underwear. Make sure there is film in the camera (while not applicable in today’s digital world…it is a funny family story for another time). The one lesson that took me almost 45 years to learn is this – shoes matter. Everyone looks at your shoes. I did not know this. Shoes were never a fashion statement for me until recently.I am probably one of the few women who has more pairs of earrings than shoes in my wardrobe. I just never cared about them. In the past, I would find a pair of shoes that fit and are comfortable and buy them in black and then purchase the same exact style in brown or navy. A practical, no-nonsense approach to shoe shopping without any serious consideration to style. Carrie Bradshaw would be mortified if she read this. Apparently, I was wrong and now I’m making an effort to change my ways. I’m paying attention to the difference between Nine West and Manolos.
The Fake Cake
Years from now, we are going to look back on Andrew’s 12th birthday and tell the fake cake story. It is one of those parenting moments you don’t forget. In my defense, I had a long day on Saturday after attending a leadership conference in the city. I waited until the last minute to buy the birthday cake and just needed a small one for the four of us to light candles and sing to him. And for the record, the person who sold me the cake is an incredibly sweet girl who I happen to know pretty well. She is a senior in high school who hasn’t worked at the bakery for long. She was working by herself and it was truly an honest mistake. We looked at the cake together and tried to figure out if it was chocolate or vanilla. It wasn’t labeled which should have been my first clue. It was also sitting on top of the refrigerator case which should have been my next clue. Obviously, we were clueless! Neither of us realized it was made of icing and flavorless Styrofoam. I swear to God it looked real and who would think bakeries sold “decorative items.” If it looks like a cake and smells like a cake…I naturally assumed it was a cake. That night, we went out to dinner at the Cheesecake Factory and opted for a special birthday slice for Andrew. We decided to save the bakery “cake” until the next day. This decision turned out to be rather fortunate because if we tried to light candles on the Styrofoam cake, I might be telling you a completely different story right now. The next afternoon, the moment of truth arrived. As I was walking into a meeting, my daughter called me on my cell phone. “MOM! You aren’t going to BELIEVE this. THE CAKE IS A FAKE!” Words I will remember until the day I die. How the hell did I manage to buy a fake cake? She softened the blow by reporting that the icing tasted delicious…thwarting any attempts for me to return the fake cake to the bakery. My kids took the whole thing in stride–especially the birthday boy who was cracking up in the background. At that point, I did the only thing I could do–I laughed. I laughed with my children. I laughed at my own stupidity. I laughed at the fact that this cake sat in my refrigerator overnight in a cardboard box so it wouldn’t go bad. And then, I posted it on Facebook. 🙂 I could have gone in a completely different direction. It was definitely a “mom-fail” on my part and I easily could have slipped down the rabbit hole of imperfection. The typical self-loathing, embarrassment and tears of frustration would have surely followed. But I didn’t let myself go that way. I chose to laugh instead, make the best of it and get a new cake. And this time, I sent my husband out to buy it with one specific request. I didn’t care if it was chocolate or vanilla…as long as it was real.