Hit the road, Jack!

We went to Disneyland last week.  Boo is 3-1/2, and we always said that we would take her when she was old enough not to be carried all day (interestingly, "old enough" is not the same as "willing", but whatever).  I'm a notoriously anxious traveler/over-packer, but I tried really extra super hard not to make everyone else crazy.  I made it until about Thursday afternoon, I think.  More on this in a minute.

Now that we're home and unpacked and the laundry is done and put away (!!!), I think a wrap-up is in order.  Chances are, this isn't our last trip to the Magic Kingdom, and we learned quite a bit about how we are when we take our show on the road.

Here are my Top Five Questions to think about when you're planning a trip.

1.  What's your priority?  What's the purpose of the trip?

Mr Incredible and I were on board with making this about Boo--her first time to Disneyland was going to revolve around her schedule, her moods, her interests.  Not every trip is going to be a pure child-focused family vacation--most of our travel is to visit family or attend events.  Those trips have a different dynamic and we have specific expectations for them.  When we're in visiting mode, we want to be on our best behavior.  We don't see relatives as often as we'd like (unless it's WAY TOO FREAKING OFTEN, and stay tuned for some future musings about dealing with family...) so there's a lot of talking and not always a lot of action.

Last fall, we flew to Arkansas to attend my cousin's wedding, and we learned that it's important to scope out where the fun is when you get to somewhere new.  You're going to have down time, and you can't depend on good weather.  We spent a lot of time driving around in the rain on our way to sit down and chat and eat.  That can be tough on kids, and they get bored fast.  Most towns have indoor play facilities, and you can sign up for a free "introductory" tumbling or dance class if you have shorties who need to burn off some steam for an hour or two.  Don't be above Chuck E Cheese (OMG, seriously, it's its own level of hell, but it can be a lifesaver).

2.  Just how much do you actually need to do?

A family vacation can have such a sense of urgency.  You don't go away often, so when you do, you want to get a lot of bang for your bucks.  And you run yourself and your family into the ground trying to do and see ev.er.y.thing.  Don't do that.  Don't be Clark Griswold.   If you've never been to where you're going, do your homework.  Find out the must-sees and must-dos.  Ask your friends if they know anything about your destination.  Chances are, they do, and they can give you invaluable tips.

Another thing, don't over-schedule your days.  Carve one thing in stone per day, and other stuff can fall into place as it will.  Downtime is important, even for the most enthusiastic travelers.  Will the kids take naps?  Are there places to go during downtime that don't include locking yourself in the hotel bathroom for five minutes of privacy?

3.  Is all that stuff really necessary?

I'm a notorious over-packer.  Back in the glory days, I would pack a suitcase of just shoes because you just never know if you're going to need three pairs of black stilettos.  Now?  I'm pretty confident about my stiletto needs.  If I'm not home, I'm not going to want to stomp around in 4-inch heels for 12 hours.

Mr Incredible travels quite a bit for business, so he's an ace when it comes to packing.  He can fit five days of clothes in a duffel bag and a quarter of our big suitcase.  Love him.  And now that Boo is old enough to sleep in a bed and eat from regular plates and use a bathroom, her packing has gotten seriously lighter.

Check the weather before you go.  Pack for layering, use jackets with hoods instead of umbrellas, bring at least one nicer outfit every time, and extra socks and undies are never a bad idea.  Beyond that, less is more.  It's not like you're going to the moon.  If you forget something, or find that you didn't anticipate something, chances are, you're not far from Target.

4.  What are the dealbreakers?

Before you back out of the driveway, make sure that everyone, or at least the deciders, is on the same page about key elements of the trip.  For example, I have a pretty firm "No IHOP" rule.  Mr. Incredible knows that barring some unforeseen disaster, our family breakfasts are not going to happen at IHOP while we're on the road.  We have conversations about wake-up calls and how and where we're going to spend our time (Park Hopper tickets make this an essential discussion).  Everybody in the group, even the non-deciders, has expectations about what will and will not be a part of the trip, and communication about this is so important.

Which brings me to my previous point about The Crazy.  I tend to get hyperfocused (NO!  really?  Nuh-uh.) and I sometimes lose sight of the bigger picture in my pursuit of whatever I think needs to happen.

I've gotten better.  Yes I have.

But it still happens.  A dealbreaker on every trip you take needs to be manners:  we are kind to each other.  Not just superficial and passive aggressive and "OK fine whatever you want to do."  KINDNESS.  As tired as you are, so is everybody else, and chances are at least one person in the car is about to go all stabbity if they hear someone say or do XYZ one. more. time.  Pay attention to the people you're with, not just to where you are.

5.  Can you take extra days off from work before and after the actual trip?

We left town on Monday, came back on Friday.  Our Disneyland adventure was bookended by weekends, and I think that's the way to go.  Ideally, we also have part of at least one business day when at our disposal, just in case.  Like, when we were coming home, we discovered that the brakes on our car needed work (no emergencies, just rough stopping).  We hit town, and there was (technically) time to take the car in before the end of the day.  Of course, it's important to keep the Dealbreakers in mind when you start piling errands on before and after the trip.  Does someone in the group prefer to stay close to home once we get there?  PERHAPS.

I think my point with all of this is, don't force perfection upon your vacation.  You're not going to Hawaii so you can tell people you went to Hawaii.  You're not dragging your family on a cruise so you can have the best family picture in the Christmas card out of everybody who puts pictures in cards.  You're not taking your 3 year old to Disneyland so you can jumpstart her love of Pirates in the Caribbean (true story).  This isn't a show you're putting on.  These are memories you're building, and when your kids are grown, they'll remember how they met ALL the princesses (even the elusive Princess Tiana).

They'll remember walking across the highway to the beach instead of jumping right back into the car after lunch and going to the next stop.

And so will you.  

What's your uniform?

If you were to meet me in person for the first time, chances are I'd be wearing jeans or khakis and a button-down shirt.  It is my uniform.  My friends tell me that when they think of me, this or some variation thereof is what I'm wearing.  And it's true.  I'm not one to follow (or set...) trends.  I feel ridiculous when I venture too far away from this basic get-up.  I will accessorize it, dressing it up with jewelry and fabulous shoes or down with flipflops and a beachy hat.

When I shop for new clothes, I tend to buy pieces that can be rotated into this uniform.  A denim skirt?  Perfect!  French cuffs?  Love it.  Scarf?  Um, I don't know what to do with a scarf, and I would spend the entire day fiddling with it because in my head it would never look quite right (even if it looked fine).  Scarves have too many variables.  Cool necklace?  Much better.

Periodically, I do endeavor to mix it up a little.  I look in my closet (which is sorted by color, which should surprise nobody) and if I see too much of one thing, I know it's time to go in a new direction.  I recently rediscovered skirts, and I'm liking them.  I bought one that was COMPLETELY different from my usual palate, however, and when I wore it to work, I was actually uncomfortable by all of the (overwhelmingly positive) attention it received.  Lots of bright different colors, horizontal stripes (!!!), very cute, but I realized that I prefer to stick to my basics for the office.

When we change little things about our appearance, they can make a big difference.  Last year, I completely revolutionized my hair by changing the part.  My whole life, I'm fighting with a natural part that starts over my left eye and angles back kind of diagonally.  No amount of product was really effective--by the end of the day, it always kind of went back to this weird part.  So one day I just let it happen.  Suddenly, my hair takes half the time to do, and I'm able to envision doing other things with my hair.  Right now?  Growing out bangs.  I've had bangs of some sort for as long as I've had hair.  And they don't lie flat.  The part goes right through them and it just doesn't work.  Instead of fighting with it, I'm going to see what happens if I let it win.

Comfort doesn't have to equal boring.  You can be comfortable in couture, and that's fine (awesome, in fact, and I have a jealous of you if that's the case).  When we're comfortable (not ridiculous or sloppy {sorry Britney...} ) we walk taller.  We feel like we look good, so we feel good, and that shows.  My uniform may not be all zazzly and exciting, but if it's good enough for her...

Ohhh, she added a scarf.  Hmmm.  Maybe....

..then I think it can work for me too.

Of course, some rules are carved in stone.  Some lines should not be crossed.  Ever.

Don't get me started.

I think a big part of Getting A Grip is about knowing what your best path is.  In my case, that's often the path of least resistance.  I feel like when a decision is full of "no" then it's not the right decision for me.  It's important to be able to identify your comfort zone, even if only to be able to know when you're out of it.  A comfort zone isn't necessarily a rut.  Make your comfort zone a starting point.

Getting back to the center.

A week ago Sunday, Boo fell and hit her head on her bedrail (she's fine, after a run to the ER for some stitches that are already out and we've moved on to Mederma).   It was not our first trip to the ER, but it was our first encounter with a head injury and blood.  The injury itself and its aftermath knocked me off balance for the rest of the week.  I instantly became a helicopter, trying to catch her before she falls again, making that cringing intake of breath sound every time she got too close to anything that wasn't soft.  She's fearless, but evidently I felt it necessary to make up the difference.

Besides what was going on in my head, I didn't get stuff done around the house.  All I wanted to do was keep her from getting hurt again.  Don't run!  Slow down!  Be careful!  I didn't make dinner.  I didn't do laundry.  I just disconnected from the domesticity for a few days, and I'm only just now catching up.

When Something (note the intentional capital S...) happens, it's so easy to let it take over.  And that's OK for a while, I think.  We needed a few days to absorb what had happened.  It was a minor injury, yes, but there was a shocking amount of blood (YIKES) and my little girl had this awful (oh it looked TERRIBLE) wound right above her eyebrow and I was so worried about how it would heal.  There's so much to worry about, so many unknowns.  When we don't know how that Something is going to turn out, it's so tempting just to shut down.  How can we possibly think about keeping a house clean when we're so immersed in a really serious situation?

When the initial emergency is over, and you've done everything you can do to make it as OK you're able to and you've handed it over to the experts, don't drive yourself nuts reliving it.  Don't "what if" yourself to death.  You are not helping by becoming a lunatic.  Pacing a waiting room, nervously dwelling out loud about how it impacted YOU and YOUR situation is not productive, and when there is a crisis, your energy is best devoted to being productive.  Full disclosure?  Monday after Boo's accident, I think I actually made things worse by being so agitated.  I couldn't sit still, so neither could she.  At the end of the day, we were both utterly worn out.  We would have been better served by me not trying to protect her from the entire universe and just allowing her to establish her own pace (as long as she wasn't running STOP RUNNING OMG SLOW DOWN!!!).


It's hard to let go, to relinquish the care of a loved one.  I felt terrible guilt that the person who was able to make Boo all better wasn't me (although he was a very nice PA who has a 3 year old himself, and admitted to keeping a suture kit at home because these things happen).  I lost sight of the fact that making sure she was OK was the important part--we made sure she was OK.  We got her into the hands of the right people in an incredibly short amount of time.  Mr Incredible (who totally lived up to that moniker) and I were a team, and we each played our role to the best of our abilities.  And when we were calm (at least on the surface in the ER), she was calm.  There was such relief in that realization.

There is also comfort, at least for me, in routines.  I think I rediscovered my schedule on about Thursday, and it was so helpful to me to have an identifiable starting point.  "Today, I clean the bathrooms and I will do a load of laundry and I will deal with the pile in the kitchen (that was out.of.control) as my one extra thing."  And it worked.  I didn't spend time wondering how it would all get done.  It will all get done.  And we are OK.  And Boo is OK too.

All her eggs (and mine...) in one basket.

On Being A Ninja Mom

A ninja (忍者) or shinobi (忍び) was a covert agent or mercenary in feudal Japan who specialized in unorthodox warfare. The functions of the ninja included espionage,sabotage, infiltration, and assassination, and open combat in certain situations. [source]

I don't know about you, but not a day goes by when I don't do most of those (assassination is rare, but I've been known to dispose of dead fish without a second glance).  There are mornings where simply getting Boo into her clothes counts is similar to open combat (and calf roping, but that's off topic).

About a month ago, I posted about the wonderful friends I have.  They're my Posse of Ninja Moms.

I realized these ladies were actually Ninjas when I was pregnant with Boo.  There was NOTHING I couldn't ask them.  They made me realize that no matter how invincible and independent and capable we are, we are never above asking for and receiving help and knowledge.

So what makes someone a Ninja Mom?

Ninja Moms rally around you when scary pregnancy things happen. They laugh when funny pregnancy things happen, and they share their own experiences and they make a point to help you feel like you'll be OK as a mom.  The first week you're home with a new baby, they bring meals and they stick around for a couple of hours so you can take a shower and a nap.  They pass along clothes and all sorts of good stuff that their own kids have outgrown.  They make HUGE fusses over the successes and gave realistic suggestions for the struggles.  They help so much in ways you never could have anticipated.

As your children get older, the Ninja Moms are the ones who tell you which emergency rooms have the best pediatric protocols because such information is valuable and luck favors the prepared.  They tell you which soccer league is a good one and which one to avoid.  They give you strategies for navigating theme parks.

Ninja Moms do not judge other moms on their parenting style or decision (as long as lives are not threatened).  They may not necessarily agree with this or that, but the core belief of the Ninja Mom is that we pick our battles, we ask for help when we need to, and we do not force our battle strategies onto other Ninja.

This lady?  Totally a Ninja Mom.  She gets it. I'm definitely going to buy her book.

While the original meaning of "Posse" refers to a group of citizens assembled by the authorities to deal with   an emergency (such as suppressing a riot or pursuing felons), the term posse is also used for any force or band ... often also figuratively or humorously. [source] 

When Ninja Moms gather, it's a Posse, because chances are there's an emergency going on (am I right or am I right?).  That emergency may involve a ladies spa weekend two states away, but that counts (IT DOES.).

These could totally be moms.  Just go with it.

The moment when you look around at your life, and you think "Yeah, I got this." you are a Ninja (whether you're a mom or not).

Top Five Things I'd Say To My Mom

My mother passed away 23 years ago today.  I was 16, and it was horrible for a long time, but it's OK now.  Really it is.  I will always miss her terribly, but I'm good.  Even after something really awful happens, things work out and the universe has a way of righting itself.  Trust me on this one.

Over the years, and especially since I've become a mom myself, I've had moments where I thought, JEEZ I wish I could tell her or ask her about blah blah blah.  It's usually nothing big or existential, but it's the stuff that you really can only talk about with your mom.  You know what I mean.  So today I'm going to break it down.  If I had One More Day, these are the topics that I'd be sure to bring up.

1.  When we had The Talk when I was 12 or 13, you said kind of in passing that you didn't ever have trouble getting pregnant.  That has stayed with me for all this time.  For a while, I thought you were just trying to scare me about sex, and maybe you were, but always in the back of my head, I remember you saying this.  I didn't entirely believe you until we decided to start our family and five seconds later I was pregnant myself.  Lesson learned.  We would probably spend a big chunk of our One Day talking about stuff like this.

2.  Dad hates Beef Stroganoff.  This may not seem like a big deal, but I laugh about it often.  You made it for us at least once a week, and he ate it without a word.  The first time I made it for him, he looked at me and said, "You know, I'll be OK if you don't ever fix this again. Ever."  He ate it probably 1000 times for you.  He picked his battles, and this one wasn't worth making a fuss over.  That's the kind of marriage that I strive to have, where the sacrifices are small but their impact is large.

3.  Dried fruit on road trips is a bad idea.  What on earth were you thinking?!  How did you not know this?  From one mom to another, if you must give your kids snacks that cause bathroom emergencies, make sure that whoever is driving the car doesn't insist on making it all the way to freaking Albuquerque before stopping (I'm looking at you, Dad).

4.  Thank you for teaching me about skin care early on.  You were right.  I wear sunscreen every day, and wash my makeup off and use good moisturizer every night. It was kind of a drag in college to be pale while everyone was tan, but the skin on my neck could belong to a 25-year-old.

5.  I cannot make a decent piecrust, and I know you could. Your grandmother made the best piecrust in the world, and she taught you.  Show me.  This would be useful information.  In return, I'll show you how to make bread.  You'll love it.

There's more, of course.  Stuff that just comes up randomly.  I think of how you let me use the crinoline from your wedding dress to use for a Halloween costume because my skirt just didn't look right.  I think of all the times you rolled your eyes when I asked what's for dinner because I get it now (OMG can I get in the door before hearing this?!).   I still polish the silver every year the night before Thanksgiving, whether we're going to use it or not, but I found some stuff that works way better than whatever you insisted on using.

It's funny the things that stay with us long after someone is gone.  After the initial shock of the loss wears off, you remember the weirdest stuff, the most insignificant conversations.  Replaying them over and over can make you nuts, but over time, there's always new information to be found in them.

I wish my mom had known me as an adult.  I wasn't an easy kid, but I think I've turned out well.  That's a reflection on her, I think.  She gave me a good foundation in spite of what a jackass I so often was.  Sometimes, I'll do or say something, or make a gesture that is SO my mom and I'll think, "damn, I get it now."  So much of what seems important turns out to not matter even a little, and the things we do in passing and the remarks we make offhand are the legacy we leave.

By request: Food: How to make it really good, really fast

A couple of weeks ago, I put a link to a survey up top, and after a couple of modifications (read: if you took it before last Wednesday, please feel free to take it again because it's different) I've started getting some feedback.  Yay!  One of the new questions is about what topics you'd like to see me address in terms of Getting A Grip.

Our first requested topic?  Food.  Amy in Texas would like some ideas for quick easy dinners.  I'm on it.

Let's back up a little and take a look at what the staples are in your pantry.  Cooking dinner for a family on a weeknight requires preparation--you can't just walk in the door after work and bibbidy-bobbidy-boo up a healthy tasty meal without a little forethought.  If the only thing you could make from scratch is D Batteries basted in Pickle Juice, you need to go to the store.

What do you always have on hand?  If you go to The Google and type "pantry staples", you come up with 2 million results for things you should keep in your cupboards at all times.  I like the list that How Stuff Works has--these are basics, and if you have them, you can come up with all kinds of good stuff.  Add in some family favorites (at our house, Rotel tomatoes are a party in a can, and we like the big bag of frozen vegetables from Costco...) and you'll have a good foundation for a week's worth of food, including leftovers.

On the bottom shelf of the rice/pasta aisle is where the bags of bulk beans live.  Buy one of those bags.  Yes, it's a lot of beans.  Pinto beans are the khaki pants of the kitchen--they're not fancy, but they go with everything else you own.  Trust me.  Fill your stockpot about 1/3 of the way with beans and the rest of the way with water, and soak for 24 hours.  Then, put them in quart freezer bags, and they're an easy addition to just about any dish.

In our freezer, we always have boneless skinless chicken breasts, pork chops, ground beef, tilapia, shrimp, and Italian sausage.  Ideally, I will put one of the above in the fridge the night before so it's ready to cook when I get home.  If I forget to do that, putting it in a sink full of lukewarm water gets the job done in about half an hour.

Pork chops and chicken breasts are super easy to cook, and it's not hard to make them interesting in the process.  Before you handle the meat (that's what she said), grab your seasonings and such.  Kosher salt, ground pepper, thyme, sage, cumin, garlic or onion powder are all in my regular rotation.

With chops (I like big thick boneless ones), set them on a piece of plastic wrap (because you don't want the trichinosis...).   Heat a skillet that's big enough to hold all of the chops without crowding them, drizzle olive oil and a pat of butter (YES I SAID BUTTER) and let that start to bubble over medium-high heat.  Season each side of the chops with whatever combination of flavors you like, then flip them over and repeat.  Put the meat in the pan and brown so it's got a nice crisp crust on top and bottom.  Reduce the heat to low, cover, and cook until it's done in the middle with a little bit of pink, about 20 minutes.  Maybe flip them once more while they're covered.

Chicken breasts can be cooked just like chops are, but I like to dredge in an egg wash with some Frank's Red Hot and some flour before I season them.  It makes me feel like I'm eating fried chicken, which is a guilty pleasure.

When you remove the meat (heh) there are these great drippings and stuff in the pan.  You want to dazzle your family?  Deglaze the pan and make a sauce.  Leave the pan on the flame, toss in some diced onions and saute for a minute or two.  Add some crushed tomatoes (too fancy?  ketchup or barbecue sauce work) and some chicken broth or wine, and voila!  Fancy main dish.  Serve with some steamed vegetables sprinkled with parmesan cheese, and your family won't know what hit them.

Cook more than you need, and you'll be able to take the leftovers for lunch a couple of times, and you can even incorporate the meat into a salad later in the week.  WINNING.

So there we go.  I like to cook for my family, for no other reason than it's something I'm good at and a kickass meal is one way I show my love.

Let me know if you try this, and how it turns out!

Just say no.

The gracious refusal is a very useful skill to have.  I don't think a day goes by when something isn't put in front of me that I just don't have the time or inclination to be a part of.  Saying "No, but thank you so much for asking" has saved me from over-committing myself more times than I can count.  It can be tricky, to decline to be included in some task or event.  It's so tempting to give a reason.  "I can't because I'm busy doing ABCDEFGHI."  That opens the door for the downplaying of the level of commitment.  "Oh, it won't take much time/effort/money! You know you can spare just a little OK THANKS." and suddenly you're on the hook.

We all have our baggage.  We may want to seem like we can handle it all, or we have unrealistic expectations of how thinly we can spread ourselves.  Or maybe we just want people to like us.  Whatever the reason for burying ourselves under things we said we'd do, the fact is that nobody has more than 24 hours in a day, and how you spend that time is 100% up to you.  Really.  No joke.  Even your shitty job is a choice you made.  If you're like me, the reasons you have your job are more important to you than the job itself, and that's OK.  I choose to be in my cubicle (oh, that just kills me to write that...) for as long as necessary.  It pays the bills, and that's what we need it to do right now.

The things we agree to do in our spare time are what make us sane or crazy.  Some people thrive on being busy every night AND all weekend.  I say good for them.  If they can keep it together while being in a million activities and groups, rock on.  That ain't me.  I need to recharge at the end of the day.  EVERY day.  I actually remember the first time I admitted to someone (in tears, over something stupid that got way out of hand) that "sometimes I get overwhelmed" so no, I wouldn't be able to make it to their party that night.  That was a huge moment for me.  Because not only did I say something out loud that I had been afraid to admit even to myself, but my friend's response was SO AWESOME (she's a Ninja Mom, so I shouldn't have been surprised).  She's this Super Volunteer whose kids are well-mannered and her Christmas cards always have such great pictures.  She was like "Oh, I totally understand!  Stay home, get some rest, we'll get together soon!".  And it was fine.  There was no judgement.  She didn't think less of me for it.  She got it.

So here's my rule.  Someone asks me to do/be/pay for/go to something I just don't have room for.  "Oh, I can't, I'm sorry, but thank you for asking."  The ball is in their court.  They can either be awesome like my friend and realize that everyone can't do everything.  OR, they can try to pitch some guilt into the equation.  Ouch.  Guilt is hard.  They "only" need "one more person" or some such nonsense for their whatever-it-is to be perfect.  That's their issue, not yours.  It's not your job to make stuff perfect.

What are your priorities?  I have a pretty good idea of what mine are.  Family is number 1, and anything I need to do for my family comes first.  What we NEED to do for our families can be anything.   I need to keep the house picked up because it's easier for my daughter to run around pretending she's Tinker Bell if  there isn't a bunch of stuff all over the floor.  I need to stay on top of laundry because clean T-shirts and towels make Mr Incredible happy.  I need to read before bed because it helps me relax and sleep better, and EVERYBODY wins if I'm well-rested.

Nobody else can say "Oh, you don't need to do that for your family, you should do this other thing for me instead."   Nobody would DARE say that.  When someone puts their own over-commitments (come on, you know they're over-committed too...) ahead of your priorities, that makes it easy for any guilt they throw in to be completely negated.  You're welcome.

I leave you with this Great Moment In Time Management.  There are naked male bottoms, and, ahem, suggestive references.  But Empress Nympho knows her limits, and she knows how to say "No."

Give them the old Razzle Dazzle

I'm struggling with this whole "go to work" thing, lately. I know it's necessary, that no 8 to 5 cubicle gig is going to be my paradise, that the bigger picture calls for me to do this for a bit longer, that things are slowly improving here.  But man, it's rough right now. It was better for a while, but I'm afraid this (and this) is the new normal.

There's politicking going on.  I'm on a committee that is supposed to be autonomous, and yesterday it became apparent that we are expected to adhere to an agenda.  The consequences of not doing so aren't clear, but at the end of the day I felt uneasy about the whole thing.  I've been thinking about how to spin this to cover my own ass and still be a "team player".

My Shelf Of Professional Development

When I hit up my reference library to my immediate right, I find all sorts of good advice about breaking the rules and finding my strength and delivering happiness (and Audrey Hepburn's bio, but whatever) and not sweating the small stuff and I don't feel like much of that is applicable when employees are at such a professional disadvantage.  I seem to be in survival mode most of the time.  It's exhausting.

That's the name of the game right now for a lot of people:  Play along, but be careful.  Jobs are scarce, and even when you're under-employed (that's such a crappy phrase...) it feels like you need to tap dance extra quickly in order to remain in the kickline (that's a Rockettes reference, because I love me some Rockettes).  It's time (for me at least) to come up with a survival plan.  It's time to [insert trumpet fanfare] Get A Grip At Work!

Yuck.

OK, so what do you need in order to feel better about work at the end of the day?  For me, it comes down to how productive I was, if what I did had value or relevance, and how I feel I'm perceived by my colleagues.  The first one, I have a lot of control over.  For the first months in this department, I allowed myself to languish.  Like Susan Hayward.

I want to live!

Pauvre de moi.

I had to shake that off, because it was really having a negative impact on who I was outside of work.  I drank too much, I wasn't nice to Boo :( or Mr Incredible :(.  It really was horrible.  So, since I wasn't given stuff to do at work, I found stuff to do (like, um, write a blog, among other things...).  And that helped immensely.  It gave me a sense of accomplishment at the end of the day.  At the very least, it passed the time.

Adding value or relevance in how I spent my time was also something I could change.  I made a lot of noise about this, because I realized that if I wasn't an integral part of this team, I wasn't necessary.  OK, so give me something important (see also: something nobody else wants to do but it needs to get done) and I will KILL it.  I will do that unpleasant task so well that you can't POSSIBLY continue to ignore me.  This got me noticed, for sure.  Suddenly, the higher-ups were stopping by my desk to chat about work and not-work stuff.  Woohoo!  Kristie = Team Player!

How I feel I'm perceived by my colleagues... ugh.  When I was in college, I majored in Psychology (which is why I'm so wildly successful now...?) and one of the more unpleasant things I remember realizing that applied to me was the concept of being a high self monitor.  I get very involved in what I think other people might be thinking about me (when the reality is that I may or may not even be on their radar, which is its own set of anxieties...).  This is a tough one to get past, because there's a fine line between accepting that we all live in our own little worlds and being freaked out that people are flat out ignoring you for what must be reasons that they all talk about (um, hi, paranoid much?).  I've come to realize that if my first two Components of Workplace Contentedness are in place, the third one kind of fades away.  Funny, that. If I take charge of that which I can control, that which I cannot control loses its thunder.

Breakthrough.

As for the shenanigans that are happening with my committee right now?  Well, it's tricky.  I need to keep tap dancing and give 'em the old hocus pocus and assume that my time spent is spent well.  If someone has already decided what the outcome will be, then that actually takes the pressure off.  It's their game, not mine, right?  My stuff is documented (because, you know, I'm organized...) which means my ass is covered.  

Give us this day our daily bread...on the cheap.

In the interest of Not Being Broke All The Time, Mr Incredible and I are constantly on the prowl for what we refer to as "no money fun".  If we can find something that kills time and has some other beneficial effect and it doesn't cost a lot, we're on board.

I'm not a big food snob, but ever since Boo was born, I've been more attuned with what's in our food.  We read labels, and we avoid high fructose corn syrup and saturated fats and all that bad stuff that you read about. It's not hard to do, really, but sometimes we have to get creative.

A couple of months ago, I baked a loaf of bread.  I found a recipe at The Simple Dollar that looked easy enough, so I bought a loaf pan and some yeast and tried it.  And you know what?  I freaking love to bake bread.  It's like therapy.  There are simple ingredients that you probably have on hand (except for yeast, because if you're not already baking bread you're not just going to have yeast in your pantry...), and you need about a 3-hour block of time where you can run into the kitchen for a few minutes at a time.  The benefits to my now weekly bread baking habit surprised me:

• Homemade bread tastes SO.MUCH.BETTER. than store-bought bread.  There's no comparison.  The texture, the flavor, and you can throw in garlic salt or fresh herbs and you have fancy bread that will amaze your family.
• Kneading bread is like punching someone.  You know how sometimes you just wish you could pop some jackass in the face?  This is the next best thing.  When your dough is the right consistency, you take it out of the bowl, put some flour on your knuckles, and you beat the crap out of that bread for 10 minutes.  Sometimes?  I name my dough.
• Bread at the store is expensive.  Homemade bread is made from cheap, simple ingredients.
• There is satisfaction in making something.  I come from a long line of quilters and crocheters and who knows what all is involved in making some of the crap crafts that some of them hang on every single wall in their homes.  That gene totally skipped me.  I have none of that.  I walk into Joann Fabrics, and it's like I'm on another planet.  But when I pull a nice warm loaf of bread out of the oven, I feel like Laura Ingalls Wilder making something from scratch for my family.
• This amazing aroma fills your house from the moment you add water to yeast.  You can't smell anything else--not the dog, not the man cave, nothing.  Just the smell of home cooking.  And it lingers for hours afterward.  It's so pleasant and soothing and homey.  

And then you cut into this still-warm bread, and you see a little puff of steam, and you take a deep breath like you do (or at least I do...) when you open a bag of coffee and you just take it in and it's incredible.

You learn lessons from homemade bread, too.  You have to deal with it quickly, but not too quickly.  Because there are no preservatives, it needs to be either consumed (no problem here....) or frozen long before store-bought bread is.  But if you put it in the freezer too soon, it will steam itself into a sad, squishy lump, and you'll still eat it (um, at least I will because I'm like that...) but it won't be that perfect puffy bread you pulled out of the oven.

You need to respect the process of the bread from the first moment to the last.  It's the simultaneous application of attention and patience.  You knead it for 10 minutes, and then you let it sit for an hour.  You have to leave it alone, as much as you want to touch it and maybe even take a bite?  Because it's dough, and dough tastes so good... but you leave it to do its thing. And every week's efforts yield a different result.  Bread is affected by what's going on around it.  Temperature, humidity, how angrily firmly you knead the dough, are all variables.  Bread isn't about perfection, but the result is invariably some version of perfect.  

One Extra Thing

I like the idea of One Extra Thing.  No matter what you're doing, chances are, you are able to tack One Extra Thing onto the end of it.  It may be as simple as tossing some fresh flowers into your cart as you head to the check-out at the grocery store, or putting the bathroom rugs in the dryer on low to get rid of the lint and hair and crud freshen them up.  One Extra Thing is the cherry on the cake that makes it just a little bit better with not a lot of extra effort.

I have One Extra Thing as a category of its own on my cleaning schedule.  Every (almost) day, in every room, I take a lap and straighten it up, and then there's one more thing to do, that will take hardly any time at all but it's still important and will make a difference.  Some days I go off the grid and decide that the patio can wait but the cabinet under my bathroom sink cannot, so my One Extra Thing changes, and that's fine.  Because One Extra Thing does not make or break the whole process.  It's extra.  See?  Awesome.

What I like about One Extra Thing (enough to capitalize it!) is that it makes me feel like I'm doing well enough to do just a little more than the minimum.  Some days, the minimum (or less...) is all that happens, and that's cool, but on the days when there's one more minute to do something?  Doing something makes me feel like "Oh yeah, I got this."  And then the next day I get into my car and there aren't any Cheerios stuck to the windows.  It's the little things, the little Extra things, that are delightful, yes?  YES.

One Extra Thing becomes a habit.  If you do it enough, you don't even have to think about it.  It just happens, in unexpected ways (not just in housecleaning, because there's more to life than a shiny toilet).  It means that on a nice day when you find yourself cutting out of work early, you swing by daycare and pick up the kid, and instead of going straight home to start the regular evening routine, your Extra Thing becomes stopping at the park for half an hour and becoming the Best Mom In The World.  It means that when you finally make a hair appointment that's months overdue, you say "I'd also like some highlights" because highlights?  are totally Extra.  And they are worth it.

So what are your Extra Things?  Take a minute, think about what you've got going on, and I bet you can come up with some stuff that has been put off, and while it isn't a big deal, it will make a difference in the long term once it's taken care of.  These can be fun (like highlights!) or practical (cleaning out the freezer, which takes five minutes, for real, so just do it already OK?), to be performed as a solo or as an ensemble.  One Extra Thing really does matter.