Oh! Hello little blog! I have missed you SO MUCH this week. I’ve just been so insane in the last couple of weeks. I’ve been busy at work, a full blown third trimester insomniac and generally moody bitch.  So, maybe it’s good you haven’t been hearing from me.

I have to tell you about today, however. Today my coworkers threw me a baby shower, a sprinkle if you will. It was wonderful and kind and  helped bring me back from the hyper work-focused, mopey haze I’ve been in lately. They invited Greyson, donated to the March of Dimes in honor of our baby and gave me the first thing that is just for Baby 2.0. Take a look at this tribute to my Harry Potter fanaticism. Do they know me or what?

I almost started crying when I saw my cake. This is where I love to be. I’m the author of Somebody’s Parents and I work with some really cool people who unknowingly give me a nudge back in the right direction. Expect more writing here. Mischief managed.

It seems stupid, but lately it has amazed me that there are the exact same number of seconds in each day. Time is so relative, so precious. The evidence is right here on my blog. My life has been so busy that this space has been neglected in recent weeks after I saved it from near death.

Some days I collapse in the bed with knots in my back, knowing I can’t get everything done I need to do in 24 hours. Work, house, parenting, being a spouse, being a friend and writing a blog. It never gets all done.

The relevance of time was never so apparent to me than when I was recently talking to a stay-at-home mom who’s child will start kindergarten in a few months. We were discussing the start of school and where her child would be attending. She said, “It is just SUCH a long day for them!” (meaning the kids)

::blink::

I just stared at her.

Huh? Long day? I nervously laughed an said, “Um, yeah. Sometimes Charlotte gets to daycare at 7:15am or 7:30am and I can’t pick her up until almost 6:00pm.” My voice was filled with guilt mixed with bitterness toward her comment. Both of which were uncalled for. She meant nothing by her comment. It was my own insecurities coming out.

This was the class sign in sheet one day this week:

A few days before I was driving by an elementary school on my way to a client meeting. It was about 3:00pm when school let out. I thought about the future, “God, what are my kids going to do after school until we’re done with work? That’s a long time.”  See, time is relative.

It’s hard working and parenting. It’s also hard being with a little one all day. That’s not news to anyone. Her comment just caught me off guard. She went on to talk about how she needed some “down time” from her responsibilities at home.

Huh? I guess I think of my “down time” as the few hours I get to bathe, feed and play with my child. Then I get to sneak in some husband time and personal time.

Here’s the thing. I don’t know which one is better, working or being at home. It’s all about time. I just hope we all get the precious time we need.

Dear Governor Bryant,

I bet you’ve had a weird day, today.  Were your PR and Communications team running around like mad men? I bet their mouths dropped open and they whipped out their Blackberries during that Washington Post Live event. They hoped their calls, texts and Tweets were the extinguisher to put out the firestorm you started.  How many reporters have called your office for comment and response since then? I would wager to guess at least some of your staff are still at the office in crisis mode tonight.  The local news media in Jackson is probably swamped covering this story and getting reaction for the evening and night news.  I wonder how busy they are at the Mississippi Republican Party headquarters?

You knew what you were doing when you said it.  You knew it!  The event was focused on improving children’s literacy by the third grade.  The moderator asked you how American education had “become so mediocre.”

Your response? “I think both parents started working. And the mom is in the work place.”

Your backpedaling began immediately.  You went on to recognize you would get a ton of emails about this, knowing it was a controversial statement and would likely offend millions of working mothers and their families.  In your defense, during the backpedaling you did say that US students were behind other countries because they invest more in education.  Okay, I agree with you there.  That could be a good explanation.

Your statement meant journalists and fact checkers went into overdrive today too.  This ABC News report cites statistics from the Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development and the National Center for Education Statistics.  The OECD finds 67% of US mothers with children under 15 work outside the home.  The NCES states that 77% of Finnish mothers work outside the home, but Finland ranks higher in reading than American students.
Sounds like you were right with your backpedaling, Governor.  I also heard your wife worked outside the home for decades, even while raising your kids.  I think I speak for everyone when I say, “Huh?”

Governor, my heart is with all the working PR, communications, news media and political advisors that are working overtime tonight because you said something so ridiculous.  I have to imagine a number of them are working mothers and not able to be home tonight with their children.

Sounds like you are contributing to the mediocrity of those children because their mothers aren’t at home.  Way to go.

For the record, I wrote this after my child went to bed.  Fingers crossed, my working after hours won’t make her fall further behind the Finnish.

Sincerely,

Amy

I didn’t know that I needed today.

I didn’t know that I needed to see my daughter’s excitement when she woke up in the bed next to me, surprised that I was there. We are spending the night with my sister and brother-in-law. When I put her down, she thought that was just her bed for the night, not knowing we were sharing. I didn’t know that when I woke up I needed her wide eyes smiling at me and I needed to hear her whisper, “Mama!”

I didn’t know that I needed to catch my husband on the phone for a last goodbye early in the morning before he flew to the other side of the world. I needed to miss him and needed to tell him I loved him.

I needed the last minute rush of printing blog business cards at the FedEx Kinkos at 8:00am this morning because I can’t for the life of me find all the damn cards I had printed for BlogHer ’12 and I had to have new ones for SITS Bloggy Boot Camp today. I needed the fast work and kindness of Chris at FedEx Kinkos. Hey, FedEx execs! Give that guy a raise!

I needed the bustling room of other bloggers and chats about SEO and utilizing Pinterest. I needed to hear the ideas of speakers and reminders of new Facebook rules for fan pages.

I needed to come home to my happy child who is finally feeling better after almost a full week of nasty funk. I needed to see that she had been spoiled rotten that day as only aunts and uncles can spoil a child.

I needed to eat greasy pizza and lick the parmesan off my fingers while listening to my sister’s infectious laugh. I needed to sniffle through the final episode of “The Office” and recall our favorite of Steve Carrell’s “That’s what she said” lines.

Mostly I needed this break.

I needed to restore myself a little and today did it. I’ve been a little worried about me lately. I wasn’t really myself through the first trimester and then the move. I’ve been more stressed than necessary at work. Frankly, I need to relax about it all. The pregnancy, work, the move, all of it. I need to give myself a break.

So I did, because I needed it.

Sometimes I’m really proud to say this, and sometimes I feel super guilty saying this after hearing the horror stories of my friends with Princess-Kate-Like-Morning-Sickness. You ready for this?

I went my entire first pregnancy without puking.

It’s true. It was crazy. Conception through delivery, no barfing. I was queasy and uncomfortable in the first trimester, but it never resulted in toilet hugging sessions. I felt like Jerry Seinfeld in that episode of Seinfeld where he explained he hadn’t thrown-up since 1980. It was 1993 by that time. That’s a huge vomitless accomplishment if you ask me.

When I made it through the first trimester this time I thought I was in the clear. No such luck. Here’s what went down, well, came back up…

Monday I had an event for a client at work where I was filming a presentation. A large part of my job is video work, stemming from my news shooting and editing days. We were at a very nice local hotel for the event. I got there early and had everything set up and ready to go. The woman I was working with was very kind and we chatted about families and I mentioned that I was expecting my second baby. As it often happens, when you tell someone you’re pregnant, they offer you food. She walked me over to the snack table of charming carnival food the hotel had on display for the event. They had soft pretzels ya’ll. Soft freakin’ pretzels. I suddenly needed something salty and was excited to indulge. I tweeted out this pic on Instagram…

That’ll teach me to brag. That’ll also teach me to dip anything in mustard, a condiment I’ve long had an aversion to. The 90 minute presentation got underway and I happily panned and zoomed across the room. The speaker’s remarks were interesting and I learned a lot. I only ate about half of the pretzel. Suddenly I wasn’t hungry. About halfway in I felt some rumbles. I got really hot and then really cold. I started feeling dizzy. I looked at the mirror over the snack table. Ooph! Pale. I looked down at what was left of the pretzel next to me. Ugh! I looked around to see if anyone was looking at me. I wiped sweat off my head. Oh God! No! Not here.

I quickly zoomed out, left the camera rolling and tried not to run, but just walk out of the room with any dignity I had left under the sweat. When I hit the hallway I sprinted to the restroom. I got to the first stall in the ladies room of this four-star hotel and made like a drunk in a first-star hotel. I cursed the pretzel the whole time.

Just the smell of mustard could do me in until this baby is born. I’m thinking this may have been just something disagreeing with me, not morning sickness. So maybe I can just say I made it through two pregnancies with no morning sickness? Is that too braggy? Yeah, maybe I’ll just shut up.