Wednesday, August 28, 2013

Summer 2013

So here's a run down of Summer 2013:
My sister and her family came from Israel. Awesome.
Long distance relationships are tricky. When you're finally together, you spend an unnatural amount of time together with the knowledge this may be it for a long while. Then, it IS it for a long while. And that is so not awesome. So in my very black and white worldview I've determined that Zionism is over-rated and that families shouldn't live so obscenely far away.

We temporarily moved to allow for some house repairs and now we are all living in a 2 bedroom apartment while they finish up. We're kicking' it old school and going back to our immigrant roots. Baby J is in a pack and play in the bathroom. Yes, I know, our great grandparents would've killed for a pack and play (although to be fair, why would they have ever needed to "pack" it? It's not like they were going on a quick weekend trip to the beach), or even for a 2 bedroom apartment. They stuck kids in drawers or on the floor or what have you. We're lucky Baby J has his own room/bathroom. His older brother is on the couch and loving every minute of it. Needless to say, we are having some serious quality time together. Lessons learned so far- we have way too much stuff we don't need. We need 1/4 of the space we think we do. Basements are unnecessary (because of the stupid amount of stuff we don't really need). Kids can sleep happily a foot away from a toilet. Nine year old boys love sleeping on a couch. Not being able to have company for awhile is really not such a bad thing. Our family and close friends homes are always open if we need our kids to run free.

My new gig in pharma has been interesting. Travelled like a mofo all summer. I know the Atlanta airport south terminal like I know my childhood home. Lessons learned: Women need to stop wearing stilettos to the airport. Ladies- aint nobody got time for that. You look as uncomfortable as you feel. I hear your pinky toes shrieking. Stick the heels in your carry-on and out your flip flops on. Girl, please.
The slowest people in security line are the very old and the very young. Aim for the middle. Find a 50 year old guy with one small carry-on and get behind him. Even if it means pushing down an infant or an old guy with an oxygen tank. People, we need to make a flight. Farting on an airplane is quite possibly the most anti-social and selfish act. Get up and go to the shitbox and release your valve in there. Take your Sodoku with you, enjoy yourself, take some time to pat yourself on the back for being a solid citizen. Nobody deserves to sit in your colonic vapors for 2 hours. And finally, if someone has ear buds on, it means they don't want to chat. Most frequent flyers know this code. But there's always the rogue traveller who needs to know where I'm heading to. Despite the ear buds and lack of eye contact. To them I say- "Unsure. Where's this plane heading?"

My kids and spouse have been awesome with my new schedule. In many ways, my household runs much more efficiently and calmly without me in it. Marc runs a tight ship and is able to be much more rigid than I can ever be. The kids have a healthy amount of fear with Marc. They have none with me. What I need to say 7 times for the desired result, Marc says once. Jerk.
I think the kids are Ok with my schedule. I don't think I've committed them to maladjustment because of my travel. I am home more than I ever was when I was at the hospital. Baby J is still a nervous jew whether I travel or not. Although I still think his separation anxiety/insecure attachment is way worse because of my intermittent absences.
So lessons learned from me being away from home a lot: if you have a co-parent who's as good as mine- it works. This guy is Mrs. Doubtfire minus the drag. He may actually have more estrogen than I do. He makes to possible for all this to happen. I am one lucky bitch. I get it.
So I can "lean in" (whatever the F that means) and have a very full professional life because I may be married to one of the biggest feminists I know. I hope that even though my kids don't have their mom home every single night, they're at least learning gender equality. To my future daughter-in-laws: you're welcome. It's your job now to make him not pee all over the seat.






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