I'm a magazine editor by day and writer at night, which sounds like a bad TV sitcom. My personal blog, Love That Max, is about kids with special needs who kick butt. Max is my son, he has cerebral palsy. His little sis, Sabrina, has an attitude. I also do content consulting. I live in the New York City area and love indie movies, Zumba, takeout, my label maker, helping little old ladies across the street and shower gel. Oh, and my husband.
Since my children were babies, there's one habit I've had as a working mom that has never changed: I rarely call them during the workday to say hello. This may make me seem like a really crappy mom, but hear me out.
My dread for September starts in early August, right around when the back-to-school ads start cropping up. It's not just that I'm already mourning the near end of summer, it's that I'm loathing the madness of getting the kids geared up.
The trouble, I've realized, is that I'm typically in denial right up to bedtime on the Monday of Labor Day. And then, reality (and panic) hits. OMG, school! OMG, forms! OMG, supplies, clothes, backpacks! This year, though, I'm trying some new strategies to spare myself the back-to-school stress.
Every morning when I leave my house to head off to work, I stare wistfully at the backyard out my kitchen door. The lilies are coming out now, and the pink flowers and lush green lawn look picture perfect (well, until August, when everything gets this brown-ish tint). I'd love nothing more than to set out a lounge chair and read in the cool morning air, but ... work.
At night, when I come home, my daughter regales me with stories about what she did at camp. She made a bowl in glass fusing! She learned how to use a pinhole camera! She won the fencing match! It's awesome to hear her so excited. But, truth, I get a slight bit wistful, too. I loved going to camp. If there were an adult day camp in my area, I'd take a week off work and go.