Because I have a limited amount of hours to work each week – and I honestly try not to work too many late nights and weekends lest I fail to keep up-to-date on LOST, I tend to have some seriously grand plans as to how my days are going to go.  My imaginary schedule is full of healthy breakfasts with my family featuring homemade granola and fresh berries before my husband takes my daughter off to daycare.  I go running in the park before getting down to business. . I enjoy a fruitful morning of work – not an email goes an answered or a call unreturned, breaking only to eat a virtuous lunch of steamed tofu or meditate, I write the world’s most brilliant blog post, have enough time left over to clean the apartment with green cleaning products I’ve made myself, read a chapter of a book and get a four course dinner started before I pick up June from daycare ON TIME.  Naturally I have enough energy left over to play or color rather than resorting instantly to the magic that is Yo Gabba Gabba on demand.

Totally reasonable right?  In reality, my day looks something like this. .

Wake up at 7:30.  IS THERE COFFEE?  I NEED COFFEE.  Husband makes coffee.  Toddler screams for juice IN A BOX.  NO CUP IN A BOX.  Sippy cup crashes to floor. . .AND CEREAL!  Family sits on sofa watching Yo Gabba Gabba until caffeine takes effect enabling husband to shower while I attempt to dress the child.  Dressing child takes hours as it involves running around living room several thousand times.  Due to pre-daycare marathon we have deposited child on time at daycare maybe twice.  Husband and daughter eventually exit apartment.  Email is checked, client having problem.  Problem dealt with.  Problem makes me realize I NEED a cookie.  Cookie eaten.  Must call agent friend DH to complain about state of publishing industry.  Need additional cookie.  It’s 10:30 am do you know where your pants are?  Reluctantly decide to shower and dress.  Work effectively for next 1.5 hours.  Must reward self with lunch and episode of Wife Swap.  Lunch consists of toddler food – leftover bits of chicken fingers or mac and cheese.  Post Wife Swap decide to enter society to procure food for family. . . grocery store trip sans toddler IMMENSELY enjoyable.  So pleasurable that an entire hour is spent roaming aisles joyously throwing random foods into cart.  Nearly impossible to haul purchases home.  Flop onto sofa with computer and manage to solve several more problems.  Thankfully have restocked cookies and can reward self with carbohydrates and sugar . . . . Time to fetch daughter.  Dinner, bath, bedtime, dinnertime AND THEN TIME TO WRITE BLOG POST.  When will I watch TV?

But while I’m walking home with my daughter, I always ask her, what did you do today?  Her succinct two-year-old response says it all, “project, sleep, eat, snack, play”.  I can’t help but think that sounds pretty good – why can’t there be daycare for moms?  Think about it, your day could look something like this:

8:30 a.m.     Socialization time, catch up with friends, etc.
9:00 a.m.     Light snack consisting of coffee, herbal tea, muffin, a bagel?
9:30 a.m.     Yoga – maybe pilates if you are so inclined.
10:00 a.m.   WORK WORK WORK
1:00 p.m      Lunch.  Eaten at actual table on a plate and with utensils.  
1:45 p.m.     Nap. . .
3:00 p.m.     Activity.  Music, crafts, art project – that damn photo album you’ve been meaning to put together.
3:30p.m.      MORE WORK
5:30 p.m.    Another snack – You know you get cranky if you don’t have one.
6:00p.m.     Cocktails!  Escort home by loving caregiver.

Moms work so hard to keep their kids on a schedule.  To make sure the house is stocked with healthy snacks, that you plan stimulating activities, provide square meals, that their every need is taken care of.  What if someone were able to pay even half as much attention to some of our needs?  Hell, I’d be happy if someone tossed me a stale bagel.  Something to ponder. . .

It never ceases to amaze me that the majority of American women are under the misunderstanding that the United States has a federally mandated maternity leave policy. I guess in some respects you could say it does in that should you choose to have a child you cannot get fired (wow, thanks for that), however, you are NOT entitled to ANY paid leave.  The leave policy is up to your employer as to what sort of compensation – if any – they have in place. Most choose to force their female employees to use their vacation and sick pay for the weeks after their child is born.

Perhaps this is one of the many reasons why the United States is 29^th in infant mortality – we’re right there with Poland and Slovakia….yes, Slovakia, the other home of the free and the brave. (No offense, Slovakia). And, as for quality of life the US is currently ranked 57^th (way behind New Zealand, Ecuador, and even Costa Rica). How can we take pride in this?? Our labor laws still reflect the 1960s, according to Phyllis Moen, sociologist. But, as much as we adore the show, we are NO longer living in the era of Mad Men, where men were the breadwinners and women stayed home to raise the kids. Most women these days actually find themselves “paying to work.” Meaning that for the first 5 or so years of their child’s life their income goes toward the care of their child and in no way assists the family in moving up any economic bracket. So why work? Well, first, the workforce does not look kindly on large gaps in a resume and “I had a baby and wanted to stay home with it for the first few years” equals “don’t hire me, I’m not qualified for anything” in the ears of most prospective employers. Secondly, it’s impossible, in this day and age, for families to exist on a single person income, especially if you have any dreams for your child, like college. Thirdly, a woman should be able to maintain her own identity outside of the home, if she so chooses – that’s what we fought for folks.

So why, oh why, is this work/life balance such a holy grail here in the US? Really, I want to know! Trying to work, have children, and actually enjoy life, seems to be an impossible dream. When I’m with my son, I’m thinking about the work I have to do, when I’m working, I’m feeling guilty that I do not do enough with my son, and forget about having any sort of romance with your significant other – that extra time is for sleeping, doing the dishes, laundry, bills, cleaning, maybe taking a shower….

And what does all this juggling get me? A sad article in the New York Times about how I’m trying to “build a brand”.  Um…Hi, Jennifer Mendelsohn, I’m not at a “Build – A Freaking – Bear” workshop! Like you, I’m a struggling writer, trying my best to make ends meet and perhaps, once in a while, pay for my kid’s minimal daycare, and someday just maybe put a bit aside for his college fund. Crazy dreams, I know, but I guess I’m insane like that.  I know a lot has been made of this ridiculous article, I just bring it up because it’s a perfect point that even women aren’t helping to establish more rights for…ahem…women!

First and foremost we need to establish an actual PAID Maternity Leave policy in this country! Among the developed nations we are ranked as the WORST for maternity policy (UK, France, Germany and Italy all provide 15 weeks PAID leave, Sweden provides 480 days PAID, Japan and Canada provide at least 10 weeks PAID, these are just a few examples). Our guidelines are equivalent to Swaziland. Can any of you even point to Swaziland on a globe? How many of you have ever actually been there?

So here is a list of the emails of all the US Senators. Please write your Senators and demand PAID maternity leave. We should not have to use “sick” days to stay home with our newborn child. Raising children should not be looked down upon as a hobby or a dead space in a resume. If our politicians really do believe, as they are oft to say, that America is about family, make them PROVE it!

If you don’t know what to say, feel free to copy this email:

Dear Senator,

I believe in America. I believe that it is FAMILY that makes America great: the land of opportunity, the home of the free and the brave.

What I cannot believe is that, as we strive to be a country of work/life balance, we do not have a maternity policy that reflects this ideal.

I demand, as a woman, as a mother or mother-to-be, to have a maternity leave policy where I am guaranteed at least 15 weeks PAID leave.  This should be a federally mandated policy, not left to each state and certainly not left to the employer. This is NOT a vacation NOR is it a handout. Rather this is a fundamental RIGHT for the future generations of Americans.

Sincerely,

Again, here is a link to your Senator’s email address.  Please, simply, copy, paste and hit send. The more women (and men) who do this, the more we have a voice, the greater the chance we have at being able to be present for the first few weeks of our child’s life.

After spending an inordinate amount of time in the DVD section of Target trying to decide whether Thomas (yeah, the train) or Elmo in Grouchland was more likely to keep my two year old entertained on a recent flight to Atlanta, I decided to actually by a book for myself, lest the miracle of the in-flight nap occur and I find myself ill prepared.  I picked up a copy of BETWEEN HERE AND APRIL by Deborah Copaken Kogan and I’m so glad I did. . . not just because my kid actually slept on the plane (I know, should have bought a lottery ticket right?), but because it turned out to be one of those super-engrossing, just-don’t-want-to-do-anything-else-til-you-are-finished kind of books.  So, because we know reading time is RARE, here are three reasons why BETWEEN HERE AND APRIL gets the ad hoc MOM stamp of approval.

1)    It’s a fantastic story.  Here are the plot basics.  Elizabeth, a mother of two who is at a cross roads in both her career and her marriage is suddenly shaken by the memory of a childhood friend who disappeared.  Whatever happened to that chick April I used to pal around with she wonders?  And more importantly, why have I been having fainting spells since I started thinking about her again?  Since Elizabeth happens to be a journalist, it doesn’t take long to find out that circumstances surrounding April’s disappearance are pretty grim.  She decides to dig further into the case – which ultimately opens up some serious questions about her own thoughts about motherhood, marriage, etc. etc.  It’s a smart, fast paced read featuring complicated but sympathetic characters.  

2)    As an ad hoc MOM, it’s always nice to see a self-employed mom portrayed in a realistic fashion.  There’s a great scene at the playground where Elizabeth is desperately trying to keep her kids quiet while pitching a story to an editor.  “Irma’s day off?” the editor asks after commenting that it “sounds like you’re in a playground.”  Sound familiar anyone???  

3)    The book will leave you feeling inspired.  The novel which was ultimately called “the perfect book club book” by THE WASHINGTON POST BOOK WORLD and “a provocative page-turner” by ENTERTAINMENT WEEKLY was rejected 39 times (well, one editor just never responded, but technically that’s a rejection).  Ms. Copaken Kogan worked as a photojournalist in a slew of war torn countries, gave it up to have kids (she has three) wrote her memoir SHUTTERBABE, published a novel and is also the author of HELL IS OTHER PARENTS: And Other Tales of Maternal Combustion.  I can’t really imagine how she pulled it off, but she did, and the results are worth your time.  

You can check out her website here http://www.deborahcopakenkogan.com

Every weekend I have grand ideas of what glorious things Saturday and Sunday will hold: the projects we will get done, the amusements we will take in, and the fun and togetherness that will be had by all. And then come Sunday night I am always shocked that things didn’t turn out as I had planned…in my imagination where time is endless and so is the cupcake supply. (I also always believe I’ve got like 50/50 chance of winning the lottery and am forever bummed when we don’t win).

P is currently fixated on animals — as most toddlers/preschoolers are — but mostly the aquatic kind. So living in NYC we just happen to be a simple 10 minute drive from an aquarium AND there is a zoo in the park a few blocks from our house. It’s one of the many reasons we pay millions upon billions of dollars a year to live in what amounts to, after all is said and done, basically 250 square feet. Oh the things we can do! So this past Friday I promised P we would take him to see the animals. 

Saturday morning was spent in preparation: consuming large amounts of caffeine, watching the Soup, and trying to convince P that the proper way to use his new scooter is not to just hold the handle bars and carefully walk next to it down the street, that in fact when used properly he can go very fast (as he usually likes to do) and probably harm himself and others (also another hobby of his). 

But by afternoon we were on our way to the zoo, leisurely enjoying our walk through Prospect Park in beautiful 70 degree weather. P’s excitement was mounting with each step we took as he named each animal he wanted to see. His favorites being the seal lions and the goats; in his world these guys are apparently BFF. We get to the entrance and there it is in large print: CLOSED. How do you explain that to a 2 year old? The same kid that thinks if he’s touched something last at the sandbox it’s his forever? Answer: You distract him by promises of a trip to the aquarium the next day where he will get to see a walrus (one of his favorite animals EVER) and the possibility of feeding ducks and swans on our way back home. We made good on the ducks but never found the damn swans. Animals: 2, Parents: let’s say .5 at best.

Finally, Sunday arrives and it’s another wonderful day: 68 degrees and sunny. So off we go to the aquarium. On the ride there he asks about walruses, seals and dolphins. Yes, to the walruses and the seals but no, sorry, no dolphins. Maybe another trip. Ok, walruses, he says. And triumphantly announces: “I like walruses.” Great, this is going to be awesome! We get to the aquarium just in time to see the seal lion show. P likes it but he’s a tough critic so as soon as it’s done he looks at us and says: “walrus?” Not sure where anything is located and being the non-planners that we are we decide to just take in everything and find the walruses along the way. He loves the ocean so this will be perfect! 

We found some penguins; they were so cute. He said: “walrus?” Then we found a cool jelly fish exhibit, he said “not walrus.” We saw some pretty rocking sharks and huge sea turtle; it got a grin and wow but was quickly followed by “walrus?” And then we found THE exhibit — the mecca we had been searching for — the walruses: CLOSED. Crap, crap, crap, and a holy crap for good measure. Apparently they were away. Away? Where? Do they go on vacation? Are they at a spa retreat? Perhaps in drug rehab with Dr. Drew? Seriously, what the hell?

So what did we do? We gave him a lollipop. What else is there to do? I mean when things don’t go my way I eat an entire box of girl scout thin mints so I think a lollipop was called for plus, frankly, it was all I had left in my “parental” arsenal.