Work It: a blog for Working Moms

When all the fun stuff is on weekdays... and I'm at work

by Jennifer S.

My 2-year-old son loves music. Turn on a CD at home or pass a car whose radio is blaring and he starts bopping to the beat. Given his enthusiasm, my husband and I decided we’d look into a fun music and movement class for him to attend. There are three or four different programs offered in our upper Manhattan neighborhood, so I thought this would be an easy thing: Call, sign up, pay, show up, have fun.

Not so fast. All the programs are held weekdays at times when it would be virtually impossible for working parents to attend. Times like 11 a.m. or 2:30 p.m.; so late I couldn’t even arrange to come in to work later one day a week. I was disappointed, but kept looking. I figured there had to be some sort of fun toddler class on weekends in my neighborhood, which is teeming with under-5’s. But no. The art class, the local YMCA kid’s play class — all on weekdays.

I asked a few other parents whose kids are in day care what they do. One parent enrolled her daughter in a Saturday music class downtown — a 45 minute subway ride away. Another opted for a popular weekend tumbling class at one of the more expensive places around, a 30-minute subway ride and 15-minute walk away. A third lobbied two of the local music programs for a weekend course, with no success. I'm not ready to carry the stroller (or tired kid) up and down the subway stairs and spend more time commuting to a class than actually attending the class!

My son gets lots of exposure to music and play and even drawing at his family day care, so it's not that he's lacking.It's not that we don't do fun stuff or listen to music or do art projects at home, but we'd just like to do something fun together on weekends in a more organized format, too.

It’s not the first time I’ve experienced this. When I was on maternity leave, I took a mommy-and-me stroller exercise class on weekday mornings. When I went to sign up for a mommy-and-me weekend class after returning to work, there were none; the director said there wasn’t enough interest. But I lived in the South back then and thought I’d surely find more in New York City.

Have you run into the same issues? How have you handled it, particularly if you use day care and not a nanny who could attend in your place?

The Grinch, er, obligations, ate my Christmas funds...

by Jennifer

It's happened again. Despite my careful planning -- I even waited months to submit my dependent care reimbursement forms as a way to have some holiday cash -- it looks like we're going to be really strapped this Christmas.

As I've mentioned in some previous posts, I started a new job in October. Over the summer, my husband began treatment for adult ADD. New job means new insurance... and a new deductible. That means the nearly $600 cost of the last two ADD-related visits of the year will come completely out of our pockets. What's more, I joined the ranks of the temporarily uninsured during the month of November. And, wouldn't you know it, I got very sick and needed to go to the doctor. Nearly $200 and a load of antibiotics later, I was better.

It's not as if we spend a fortune at Christmas. We're buying our son one gift... and (please understand my rationale) rewrapping three or four birthday gifts he received. We put them away to avoid new toy overload. We're spending $50 total on our two young nephews, with whom we'll be spending Christmas. We'll splurge a little for my husband's parents since they save us every time day care is closed but our offices aren't. We'll probably spend another $200 or $250 total on six more people -- my parents and younger sister and my husband's siblings. My husband and I are using American Express points to buy a joint gift for each other.

We'd be fine if that were all the gift-buying we needed to do. But, there are more people to buy for or tip: The two women who care for my son at the family day care (the pressure to figure out the right gift is weighing on me, as is the question of whether to instead follow the advice of several local New York magazines, which call for a cash gift equal to a week's day care rate); our dog walker (rule of thumb, I'm told, is a week's pay; for us, that's $50); the doormen, workmen and our building super (even though our super is useless and our doorman crew is small, if I follow the rule of thumb, I'll be handing over an envelope with at least $350); our date-night sitter (a night's pay, I'm told, but I'm thinking half-a-night's pay and a personal gift); the parking attendants at the garage we use (other garage-goers say $50 pr $60 since we only use the car on weekends). I am sure I'm forgetting several someones and many of the someones I have mentioned rely on their holiday tips as part of their income; and they deserve it... they do so much for us throughout the year. That $800 or so I never planned to spend was mostly to be divided between all of these people.

I'm not sure how I'm going to manage this. In the past, I might have turned to credit cards, but we resolved to cut them up (well, hide them) and pay them off. We've held to that for the last 11 months and I'm not inclined to break now. I'm sure I feel too much peer pressure on what and how much to give. And, I'm sure this will work itself out, just like it does almost every year.

How do you manage the holiday cash crunch? What do you do if you unexpectedly come up short?

New job balancing act

by Jennifer

So, I've nearly wrapped up week two at the new job. When I wrote about those precious 15 minutes (each way) I'd be adding to my commute, I felt I'd been over thinking and over-analyzing the time creep. I wasn't. It's turned out to be more like 30 minutes--15 for the commute... and I need to be in the office 15-20 minutes earlier than I needed to be at the old job.

First, there's getting out the door. My son isn't much of a TV watcher, but he loves Sesame Street, particularly Elmo's World. Unfortunately, Elmo is on from 7:38am until 7:54 a.m. Oscar reads Slimey the Worm a bedtime story until 7:56 and my son considers this segment part of "watch-un Elmo." Used to be that as soon as Slimey was tucked in, I whisked my little guy into the bathroom to brush his teeth and then to his room to get dressed. As soon as the clothes were on and shoe Velcro was fastened, it was into the stroller and out there door, typically by 8:30am.

Now, we brush teeth immediately after breakfast (OK, not so bad) and I dress my son while he's in his Elmo-watching trance (um, far more comedic). Throw in a dirty diaper and the whole thing goes to ruin. Tick. Tick. Tick. Before the new job, I could sometimes take my son on the morning walk with the dog. If we took an extra five minutes, it was no big deal. There was slack in the morning schedule. Now, even getting up 15-20 minutes earlier (at 6:15am), indulging the little guy in the morning walk means barely making it out the door.

It all feels so rushed. And it doesn't end with the snapping of the stroller straps (hopefully at no later than 8:05am... or getting to work on time is a pipe dream). Every day, I find myself trying to power-walk while pushing a stroller with a 32-lb boy, my work bag and whatever else we need for the day. Up hill. Really. I mean up an actual 1/3-mile hill. Did I mention I do this dressed for work? Once we get up the hill, it's 5 more minutes until we arrive at daycare. Apparently, a lot of people leave for work at this time so the lone elevator at the building that houses our family daycare is terribly busy.

Tick. Tick. Tick. We rush in the door and I've no longer got the five play minutes I used to have to just linger, plop on the floor with my son's favorite toy or simply spend time on an extra long hug. Gotta be out the front door of the building by 8:22am or earlier to have any hope of catching the subway train that comes in time for me to get to my desk by 9:15-ish am (if the trains are running OK).

When I finally get to the train, the platform is packed and so is the train that arrives. I used to get a seat every single day. So far, in 10 days, I've gotten a seat twice. So, I apply my makeup (concealer, powder, blush, mascara, lipstick and sometimes eye shadow) while standing. On a moving train. Yes, it's funny. But so far, I haven't poked out my eye, colored on any other passengers or made much of a mess. I have only smudged my lipstick application once. Of this fact, I feel proud.

Twenty minutes into the train ride, at my old train stop, enough people get off that I generally get a seat (8 days out of ten so far). But it's too late. My feet are sore. I'm trying hard not to feel cranky that the seat I got isn't a coveted end seat, but a middle seat between a heavily-perfumed woman and a man who clearly shops in the big and tall section. At least I'm sitting. Tick. Tick. Tick. Once I arrive at my new stop, 15-minutes later, I'm not there yet. I have a 10-minute fast walk (meaning, I gotta walk fast if I have any hope of not being the last person in my group to arrive... they all live, oh 15-25 minutes away) to the office. I'm exhausted.

The end of the day is easier, except that I can no longer leave twice a week to pick up my son (although I can go one day). It was always my husband's job to do pick-up, but I would pitch in an extra day or two so he could deal with pressing work matters or it he had late meetings. And wouldn't you know it, the next six weeks, my husband has (so far) seven evening events or conference calls that will prevent him from picking up our son. These aren't the kind of things he can skip.

I've come up with a few potential solutions, some simple. A coworker told me about DVR (I know, I live in the dark ages of TV-schedule-bound, commercial-watching) and suggested I DVR Sesame Street and start the Elmo part 10 minutes early, using the episode from the day before. I'm calling the cable company tonight. I now take a night time shower instead of an early morning shower. I put my makeup on during my subway ride instead of at home. I wear socks and sneakers to the office and change my shoes at work most days. I go to bed 30 minutes earlier. I pick out my clothes the night before. We've hired a sitter to pick our son up two nights of the week to relieve some pressure on us (even though one of us will arrive home within 15-30 minutes of the sitter and our son arriving home, that's really an extra 45 minutes leeway for us) and if that doesn't work, our daycare has offered to keep him late for a small fee (wish they'd offered when we told them we were looking into a sitter for this purpose; and yet, there's all the guilt of lengthening his daycare day in the first place).

Even with all of this, I'm exhausted. I feel like I'm screwing up. I'm forgetting stuff I never forgot before--like sending the rent check and calling my friend on her birthday. Frankly, I love this new job already and every day I see clearly how much I'm gonna be able to do here (which makes me love it more). I also see potential for working from home a day a week here and there or even, perhaps, regularly, beginning sometime early next year. So, I realize this is all going to work out, that it takes time to get used to a new situation. But right now, I'm sorry to admit, that I, previously the owner of a Superwoman persona, am struggling.

Do you have any advice to help power me through? What have you done when a work change has thrown your balancing act off--at least temporarily? 

My other (work) kids...

By Jennifer

I told my husband the other night that I've gotten to a point where I feel old enough that the young people who work for me are like my kids, my work kids. The truth is, since I first had an intern report to me at the ripe old age of 24, I've felt this way about the various college interns and young reporters who have worked with me or for me. I want them to succeed. I want them to feel like what they contribute matter, even if it's helping to make phone calls or send out surveys. When any one of them wants me to mentor or help them, guide or bounce ideas with them--the answer is always yes. Several of my work kids have worked for me at more than one employer. And one has even helped me get a job! They've become people I care about, people who share things with me that stretch beyond career goals and good assignments. Many have been to my house for dinner. I champion them and I do what I can to keep them on track.


I've had some really rotten bosses and a big part of the way I deal with those under me is an effort to be everything those terrible bosses are not. I try to be the boss I always wanted. Including the painful honesty part. Now that I am a mom, I realize it's not all about being a better boss than the bosses I have had. It's also about making a connection with the people down the ladder from me. It's about actually caring what happens to people. And yes, maybe mothering them a little. It's also about being a role model (particularly for the females among the group who hope to be moms one day and still juggle their careers). I've been told two or three times that I do too much for the people that work for me. But building a career is hard work. If I can help, I feel like I should. It's a lot more gratifying than planning next year's editorial calendar. And, after all, they're my kids.

How about you? Are there younger employees you've taken under your wing, who you feel responsible for? Why do you do it?

The angst of a great job change

By Jennifer

So. I got a new job! Ok. Not just a new job. A really-great-perfect-for-me-career-goals type job. I wasn't really looking. I'm just shy of a year at the job I have (the guilt involved in that is more substantial than I thought, but that's another story). I've got some pretty good work-life balance. I can go home at a decent time, leave early when I need to, finish work after my son goes to bed, etc. The people I work with now are nice people. But the job itself just didn't turn out to be what it was supposed to be and ultimately, it's not a good fit. The new job, well, I was so excited about it before the interview that I woke up in the middle of the night with ideas, and I got up to jot them down. The pay is better and the room for advancement is significantly better. The new boss has so many fans that he should have his own club! The work is going to be challenging and rewarding.

So why the angst? It all boils down to 15 minutes, times two. My commute will be 15 minutes longer (it's a 30-minute commute now). That, plus the whole new job thing, means leaving to get my son more than one day a week is gonna be tough--at least for a while, until I get settled in. My husband usually does the day care pick up, but the occasional meeting or need to stay late means I do pick up at least once--and usually twice--a week. Even if I leave work at the same time on other days, I'll be home 15 or 20 minutes later. That means my husband will need to fully prepare dinner two or three nights a week. Right now, he gets dinner started once a week and I usually rush something together or use one of my pre-prepared meals (see my other post on that lifesaver) two nights a week. We scrounge one night and Friday is pizza night. This scenario literally made me hesitate when making the decision to change jobs--more than anything else. I could see the panic in my husband's eyes when I did my very best to be as clear as possible about what his added responsibility would be if I took the job.

Then, there's the morning routine. We'll need to leave 15 minutes earlier for day care. But mornings are my time with my son. We eat breakfast together, watch Elmo, pick out clothes for the day, take our time brushing our teeth together, play with toys, sometimes take the dog for a walk together (if my son wakes up earlier than usual). It takes us a while to get ready, but that's because we take our time. It's a little hectic, but I love and cherish that time. With the new job, I'll have to speed up the morning routine and live with the fact that my son will be in daycare 15 minutes longer every day. Of course, it's more my own selfish enjoyment of our mornings... and their coming shortness... that has me bummed. On the other end of the day, 15 minutes means scooting in the door just as dinner is ready and lowing the option of a quick jaunt outside with my son and the dog before bath time.

So, what to do? Since my husband's job does require a few evening functions a month, we've thought about trying to hire a sitter two nights a week for 1.5 to 2 hours to pick our son up from day care and bring him home and start dinner; one or both of us would be home 30 to 45 minutes after he and the sitter arrived home. Does that sound as insane as I think it sounds? It would relieve a little pressure for both my husband and for me.

This new job is really about as perfect for me as they come. And even though we weighed the personal pros-and-cons as a family, taking the job was never really in doubt. I am one of those crazy people who does best when busy. The busier I am, the more challenging my work, the better I perform, at work and at home. My current job has turned out not to be that challenging and not that busy. When this mom is happy at work, she's really happy at home. The new job has a lot of potential for me and for our family. And I'm really excited about it. I mean, really excited. And yet, I also feel incredible guilt. Who knew 15 minutes would make for 30 pounds of guilt?

Have you ever changed jobs or hours in a way that affected your family? How did you deal with it--and the guilt?   

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Rainy day Tuesdays and a book

By Jennifer

First off, although this post will be read after 9/11 passes, I want to take a moment to acknowledge it. Oh, IT... I once had a boss who was so confounded by something a source did that he couldn't accept it. I said, "It is what it is," since I'd given up trying to make sense of the situation. My boss replied, "But what is its is-ness?" He was serious. I thought it was funny. But I guess I kind of feel that way about 9/11. Minus the funny part. Really minus. I watched it all happen from my office window, the planes, the fireball, the collapses. I'll not say much more about that, I'm already worrying about the day when my son asks me where I was that day. It's nothing like when I asked my dad about the moon landing. I know this is odd, but I always feel a sense of relief when the anniversary of 9/11 is a rainy day. It feels safer.

This entry is really about a book. A book I loved until the last chapter. Hold your sighs, it was a book about a working mom. Ugh. So I bet you know why I hated the last chapter. Of course you do. How do most books about working moms (especially the fictional ones) end? You guessed it. Successful working mom has an epiphany. Successful working mom realizes she's neglected her kids and sees the error of her ways. Successful working mom quits job and moves to the country to bake brownies and retire fancy suits and expensive shoes. It makes me want to scream.

Of course, this mom, the fictional Kate Reddy of the book I Don't Know How She Does It has an uber-demanding finance job that sends her flying across the globe with a day of notice. (I realize I'm terribly late to the party since this book has been out for years. I, ummm, don't have a ton of time for books.) My point...WHY? Why does the working mom always quit in the end or dream of quitting or build their life around the day they can quit?

Where is the successful working mom prototype of my world? The one that doesn't want to quit? The one that's going after the next big job or promotion--but also figuring out ways to make it work for her at home, too? I want to read that book. Another working mom I know explains if I feel so strongly, I should write the book. I could make her the subject. She's the working mom who quit because she always dreamed of staying home, went absolutely crazy and turned mushy-brained, went back to work to save her sanity and became a better mom to boot.

This got me thinking, who are our role models? We have each other, at least in writing. The woman who just came back from a maternity leave at my office--the one who cried the morning she handed her 3-month-old son over to the nanny and who spent 45-minutes pumping only to realize she hadn't produced a bottle's worth of milk--was someone I barely knew before she left. Now I find myself trying to ease her fears and telling her it gets better. Am I her role model? Maybe I am for a while. Day one of her return she found comfort in my reassurance and "early" exit at 5:30. She's not alone, even if I'm just someone from down the hall. Over time, I've sort of made my own way, I guess, with few role models. Thank goodness I don't rely on those stupid books I read every year or two!

Who are your successful working mom role models? And why?

How to do No. 2 (baby, that is)?

by Jennifer

It seems like so many women I know are having child No. 2 (or in the case of two cousins, No. 3 and No. 4), "perfectly" spaced 2-to-2.5 years apart. Everywhere I go, I see a toddler strapped in a stroller pushed by a mom with a cooing newborn strapped in a sling or Baby Bjorn. My son will turn 2 in early October and we've long said that our kids would (hopefully) be spaced 3-to-4 years apart.

Actually, this was my decree. Being a full-time worker with a full-time worker husband, juggling what we already have on our plate seems like almost as much as we can handle. Then, of course, there are the financial obligations. A second child means two daycare bills to pay every week. And then...the dreaded two-in-diapers household. To me, it seemed that I'd be more sane if we had a second child when my first is closer to 4-years-old because he'll be potty-trained, more independent (and, admittedly, interested in and able to help. As in, grab mommy a paper towel as unbelievable amounts of spit-up spew from baby's mouth) and in free pre-k (daycare costs go down). I also thought by then I might be able to negotiate a few afternoons of work-at-home to make the end-of-day daycare pick-up easier.

Seems like I thought of just about everything. Except I didn't think I'd ever wonder if I even wanted baby No. 2. Let me clarify. I want another child in that maternal, family-oriented, instinctual way. But both emotionally and rationally, I'm having trouble with the idea. Maybe I will get that work-from-home deal two afternoons a week, but it's likely I will ALWAYS work full-time (plus). I feel like the amount of quality time I get to spend with the one child I do have is barely enough. To split that time between two children seems horribly unfair and conjures up the sort of guilt I feel I've mostly avoided so far. And I've pretty much cut out 90% of the me time I ever had. To cut out that quarterly pedicure and rare morning shopping with a friend would be bad for everyone in my family.

Then there's my husband. He's doing better since starting medication for his ADD (something I wrote about in previous posts), but I wonder if a second child would throw his balance too far off. I'm not okay with that. Then there are the logistics. How do I get my son to pre-k in one place (and later, kindergarten) and the baby to daycare in another in a timely manner without starting our mornings even earlier or being constantly late to the office? I treasure my mornings with my son: we eat together, read a book or two, play the get-dressed-brush-teeth game, watch and learn with Elmo and cuddle up for extra hugs. Rushing through through that or cutting it short to get to school and day care and work on time seems unfair, to me.

I could probably hire a teenager or regular sitter to pick up one or the other or both children and bring them home, giving me/my husband an extra 30 minutes to get home each night, but--maybe I am just stubborn--I want one of us to be there at the end of the day. The excited look and the cheers of "Mommy! Mommy!" or "Daddy!Daddy!" make my day.

I've always wanted more than one child, as long as I can remember. I still do, particularly when I see the moms in my neighborhood (many of whom do not work outside the home or work very part-time). But I'm always gonna work and always gonna have a career. The two seem to be at odds and lately, it feels like there's a growing gap between wanting another child and feeling like it could ever be manageable. 

For those of you in the same situation--but with more than one child--did you ever feel this way?  What happened when you added No. 2 and how have you made it work. What have you compromised, changed or just accepted?

In the news... preschool or boot camp?

by Jennifer

My husband and I have been going back and forth about preschool next year for our son. He'll be two in October and I'm not so sure I want to send him to an organized program next fall. He's learning a lot at his family day care and he's so happy. He says all his ABCs, counts to 12, knows a bunch of colors and can name dozens of animals, speaks English and Spanish, speaks in short sentences more and more, and he learns the words to songs better than I do. So what does he need preschool for? Yet, I ponder it.

Let me start by saying that in NYC, the preschool craze is ridiculous. No. It's insane, ridiculous, crazy... all of it. People regularly spend $15,000 to $25,000 (plus required donations) to send their kids to prestigours preschools (even a particular YMCA school is in that category). I mean, hello...it ain't Harvard. And they're only 3-years old! I'm not playing on that field. No way. Frankly, I'd be happy to wait until he's nearly 4 and send him to universal pre-k. My husband essentially agrees. But it's hard not to think about it when people around you are obsessed. I feel like he's already learning so much, perhaps in a more passive way.

That's why this article, Should preschools teach all work and no play, really hit me...

from the article...
Rebecca Marcon, a developmental psychologist and education researcher at the University of North Florida in Jacksonville, agrees. In 1999, Marcon published a study in the journal Developmental Psychology that looked at 721 4-year-olds selected from three different preschool models: play based, academic (adult directed) and middle of the road (programs that did not follow either philosophy). Marcon followed the children’s language, self-help, social, motor and adaptive development along with basic skills.

“What we found in our research then and in ongoing studies is that children who were in a [play-based] preschool program showed stronger academic performance in all subject areas measured compared to children who had been in more academically focused or more middle-of-the-road programs,” says Marcon.

According to Marcon and other researchers, children who are subjected to overly academic environments early on have more behavior problems later and are less likely to be enthusiastic, creative learners and thinkers.

“You will frequently get short-term gains with a highly academic approach (in preschool), but they come with long-term consequences,” says Marcon. “A lot of early childhood studies only follow children to third grade. But when you take it into fourth grade and beyond that’s where you see the big difference. That’s when children have to be more independent and think.”

and later in the article, the head of Stanford University's school of education says:

Play versus academics is a false dichotomy, she says. “The idea is that at the preschool age, all learning should be fun. Adults should be intentional about the teaching, but it should be embedded in everyday life and fun activities.”

Frankly, that's kind of what I feel my son's life is like now. His daycare caregivers taught him his colors and numbers, repeated playing of the alphabet song and my goofy antics helped with the letters, etc. Learning is a part of his fun, it just happens in his day. He's plenty socialized at day care, too. And really, can't he wait until he's 4 to sit still and have his first significant exposure to the structured learning he'll be a part of for all of his young life?

What do you think about preschool and its purpose and place in a toddler's life? Do you think it's a must? Optional? Should it be academic? Playful? Is there preschool pressure where you live?  And if so, how do you deflect it if you're the odd-mom-out?

 

My dinner success secret...

By Jennifer

At my house (well, my apartment, does anyone in NYC actually have a house?), we usually have a home-cooked meal four or five nights a week. Most nights, we eat that meal together. It might be chicken with red peppers and sugar snap peas in plum sauce or linguine shrimp scampi, or marinated pork loin with couscous or maybe sauteed tilapia with a fruit-corn-black bean salsa. We do this despite the fact that we have nutty schedules and staggered arrivals/departures from work.

Wait a second, you say... how in the world do I have time to make such meals-to make a plum sauce or chop veggies or marinate pork and then cook it all ? The truth is, I don't. But I have a secret. Ok, it's not so much a secret since I blather on and on about it to anyone who even remotely expresses interest.

Once a month, I leave my husband and son to fend for themselves on a Saturday morning and drive out to the suburbs for a few hours to make these meals at a meal prep place. I've tried Super Suppers and Main Dish Meals. But my favorite so far is the current place I go to, Let's Dish .

At Let's Dish and other meal prep places you sign up online, choose your meals from a dozen or more choices, each with nutritional and cooking information, schedule a session. Upon arrival you find the many meal prep stations set up, complete with EVERYTHING you need, from ingredients, to exact recipe, to measuring cups and spoons.

There are snacks, lemonade and coffee for meal-makers to munch on in between stations. The meals typically serve 4 to 6 people (a chicken meal, for example, will have six chicken breasts), so with just two adults and a toddler, I split each order and get two meals for each. You mix and store the ingredients in Ziploc-style freezer bags or aluminum takeout containers, slap on the cooking instruction label specific to each dish and voila! Dinner for weeks!

Don't like onions? Skip them and add extra peppers. Prefer chicken in that shrimp dish? Just ask and usually you can substitute. In most cases, the meats are fresh, the veggies always seem farmstand fresh and you can monitor the amount of unhealthy stuff you add (eg, 1tbsp butter instead of the 2 the recipe calls for). Plus the recipes are really yummy. It usually takes me two hours to make 8 meals (split into 16 for my little family). Once I'm home, I reconfigure the stuff in the freezer and load it up with our meals for the month.

Perhaps the best part of this whole deal is that 95% of the meals are husband-proof. I know, for many women that might be hard to believe. But it's true. My husband starts or makes these dinners at least two nights a week and so far, he's messed up one time and that was just his overly cautious, overcooking of the chicken.

What's more, I find the whole process of making the meals to be fun, even relaxing. Sometimes I meet a friend and we have a quick lunch after we finish preparing our meals. On top of all that, I feel better knowing there is a good home-cooked, partly homemade and healthy meal to feed my family even after a busy day. And, I don't have to spend an hour or even 30 minutes chopping stuff before I  get cooking. I still usually end up making something fresh once or twice a week, but I really cherish the extra time I get to spend with my son and husband the days I can take a defrosted meal out, pop it in the saucepan or oven and limit my kitchen/meal time to stirring for 10 minutes or checking the pan in the oven every so often.

For a busy working mom - and her busy working husband -this is a real treat, and the real secret to our ability to eat a real meal together most nights, just like our one-earner families did when we were kids. And it relieves an awful lot of the guilt I'd have otherwise. I know some people might call this dinner prep stuff cheating, but for us it's what works.

What's your secret to dinner success?

How Daddy Does Mornings... and an ADD update

by Jennifer

All those hours I've been working, all those trips out of town... finally... thankfully... over. But with that, my big project of the year is set to hit news stands this week and I've traded in late nights for early mornings. Yes 7 a.m. arrivals for television segments are fun and can be exciting. But they also throw a wrench in our sort-of well-oiled machine. I have the morning parenting shift. My husband usually leaves at 7a.m. and picks our son up from day care at 5:45 p.m. I leave at 8:45 a.m., drop our son off at day care at 9 a.m. and leave work by 6:30 p.m. It works for us. This week, we had to switch shifts.

Let's call it a blessing in disguise. Daddy has never experienced mornings with our son. Weekends don't count since we're usually going at a slow pace. Weekdays... well, you've got to get yourself ready, get the dog taken care of, get our son ready and get out the door. For my husband, leaving at 8:45 a.m. wouldn't work, so he had to do all of this by 7:45 a.m... another wrench in the works. You see, Elmo is on from 7:38 a.m. until 7:54 a.m. and it is the only TV our son watches or even cares about.

At 8:15 a.m., I got a call from my husband. Our son was excited and smiling walking up to the day care. But then he screamed and cried and tugged on my husband's leg when he had to leave. My husband wanted to know if this ever happens to me. My response: "Yup. Usually four days out of five." But hey, I stand by the elevator and listen for him through the door and often wait for him to stop crying before I go--he usually does stop before the elevator arrives to get me. Then I say some sort of affirmation to myself that I am a good mom and I am not hurting my child by sending him to a loving day care (mind you, he doesn't usually want to leave when we pick him up at night and he's practically singing when I tell him we're on our way to day care). My husband's reply: "I don't know how you can stand it." Me either.

Perhaps when this week is over, my husband will have a new appreciation for what I do every morning and realize that his 60 to 90 minutes alone with our son in the evening is a cake walk in comparison. I've done the evening... our son is a little tired, fairly patient about eating (not so in the morning) and ready to sit quietly with mom or dad and a book or some toy cars.

(Speaking of cake walks... a quick update to my post about my husband's newly diagnosed ADD. The first medication seemed to help, although work got most of the benefit of that. But something I'd almost classify as a miracle happened on the first weekend he was taking the Ritalin... we were at the park with another couple. It's a very busy NYC park for toddlers. And my husband... for the first time EVER... was able to have a conversation with his friend AND keep an eye on our son at the same time, without missing a beat on either one. I'm not sure he noticed, but I really did. He's had a follow-up with his doctor and he's started a new, longer-acting, stronger dose medication. Improvements at home should be more noticeable, says the doctor, in the next week. I'm looking forward to it. I'll keep you posted.)

So, any moms out there ever switched shifts with their husbands? How did it go? And what do you do when work gets in the way of routine?