Moms with Multi-Tasking Mojo -- Share!

 I’m the type of person that thrives on feeling productive. I like to get stuff done. The more, the better. Now as a work-at-home mom with a business, a baby, a dog who I treat like a baby (I realize I have it much easier than most with just one tot!), I’m finding creative ways to cross off those to-dos on my list. And there's not a lot of crossing-off lately, I’m afraid. Still, I leverage naps for precious writing time or handling admin-like things. And I’ve figured out new ways to multi-task—you have, too! (Get ready to share!)

On days Max decides to revolt napping all together, it’s time to get creative. (Here, Max shows me that he's got work to do, too.)

For example…

I can nurse and conduct effective phone interviews with sources, who will later be cited in articles that I will write at scary hours of the day.

I can walk the dog, sift through email and ogle at Max in his stroller while burning off the cookie I ate for breakfast.

I can prepare lunch while nursing Max (one-handed sandwich making trick) and scratching the dog’s belly with my toe.

I can fold laundry, listen to voicemail, entertain drooling Max (who plays with unfolded laundry) and play ball with Mayzie.

I know you have many hidden talents! Please share your multi-tasking wizardry!

Snap - Get to Work!

I feel like I'm back on deadline in the newsroom, trying to jam like a crazy mother (literally) during these "snaps" (they aren't real naps unless they last beyond 17 minutes, right?). Time to jam. Lots of writing to do ... then later, hopefully some Momma's Write-ing. Until then...

kh

Mompreneur Monday

Thought you'd enjoy reading about Suzie Gorski and her business Zeebabee Designs. (The piece ran in Inside Business.)

Cheers!
Kristen

Cutting the Crazy Mullet

To be three-and-a-half months old and so follicle-ly endowed. I’m talking about hair, and lots of it. Max was born with a stylish faux hawk (really), and his hair had natural highlights that women shell out a good hundred for at the salon. It was blonde in various shades…and then the new grew in as the old faded, so Max really didn’t suffer from any hair hardship at all while his  new ‘do emerged.

In fact, the hair kept growing…and growing. It’s thick (lucky guy), and now looks like a strawberry blessed his noggin with a shot of delicious red that’s just enough to look like a sunset. He’s going to make a lot of girls jealous, that guy.

But the ‘do needed a little trim—not the formal “first hair cut” (insert trumpet sounds). Just a little cleanup job. Because as strawberry and full and as well endowed as his head of hair was, he was sporting a mullet. That’s all there was to it.

Meanwhile, after a four-month salon fast, my own mop had grown into a motley sight. I’ve got naturally big hair that overpowered a once-sleek cut that I decided to ditch along with my skinny jeans and caffeine. (So far, no losses suffered.) The big is back, but it needed taming, so Max and I made a visit to Crazy Mullets in Lakewood. Fortunately, the little guy had his own crazy morning and had lapsed into a serious nap that allowed me to take care of business (ie. shampoo, cut, style).

As he slept soundly in his carseat carrier, I knew removing him was practically illegal. But I did. And he sat on my lap all Humpedy Dumpedy in a happy post-sleep haze. Our stylist carefully snipped the fringe creeping down his neck and threatening to form a rogue mullet. (No offense to mullet aficionados…it just isn’t Max’s look.)

Aha. Success. Tiny clippings were collected in a Ziplock. (Remember, this isn’t the first official haircut – I think of it as a mere prelude to the real deal, which will surely involve gel, some styling and a coo of appreciation from Mr. Max.)

Mom and Max departed the salon feeling better about life. (Or, at least mom did.)

The ordeal called for celebration with a bottle. (Max, mine is off limits until you’re 21, kid.)

Covering Your [carseat] Ass-ets

I told you about my bodacious rental mom-van with freight-like storage. And Amber, a mother of two, emailed me with this snippet concerning car seats following fender-benders.

She provided this informative link: http://www.nhtsa.gov/people/injury/childps/ChildRestraints/ReUse/RestraintReUse.htm

Here's what Amber has to say:

When Katie was 2 or 3 I was rear-ended and replaced the car seat. (Well, I added it on to the insurance claim, so the at-fault driver's insurance replaced the seat). Insurance companies will handle a claim like this (as in, the car seat) and still consider it part of the auto insurance (as opposed to theft of items in the car, which is generally handled by homeowner's/property insurance).

Good to know, Amber!

Yes, I'm Parking a Mini-Van

…but it’s not mine. Thanks to Enterprise Rent-A-Car, I’m motoring around the vehicle I said I’d never own. Never drive. It’s “never” on four, voluptuous wheels—and it has more underground storage than we have in our attic, plus the crass bonus of being able to tune in to Howard Stern via satellite radio (Max: earmuffs!). I have room to haul a mob squad (can you buy those at Heinen’s?), or perhaps more important, space to cart home anything including lumber from Home Depot (or bags of sale items from Dillard’s).

Sure, it’s a bus, but it’s sleek. And, besides…it’s just a rental for two weeks, while my VW gets fixed after a fender-bender. (Thankfully, this occurred during one of the few times I have driven solo with an empty car seat in the last several months.)

           

Did I mention that Chrysler Town & Country Touring (with all that storage!) takes up 75 percent of our driveway and has surely spurred neighborhood talk? Is she pregnant again already? Did they get another dog? Is she freelancing for Fed-Ex, delivering freight? And, of course, “Wait, didn’t she just get a new car?!” (Full disclosure: I traded in my happy-mobile, a Beetle, for a more grown-up Tiguan back in March, after a few trips to Babies R Us and a wakeup call that even an umbrella stroller was a squeeze.)

So far, me and The Mom Ride XL 2000 are doing just fine. (I even mimic the beep-beep-beep truck backing sound when exiting our driveway.)

But truly, to set the record straight: I do not own a mom-van.

But…never say never. (Storage!!)

Welcome to Momma's Write

I didn’t think I wanted to blog about life with my new son. Too personal. Who wants to read about more boobs and poop? Aren’t there already about 2 million mommy blogs? And why should you care about my weekend, which could be summed up like this: infant suppository, primal screaming, bloody thumb. (Curious?)

Who wants to read more baby stuff?

Well, I do, I realized. And we probably have this in common. I want to read more, and I can’t get enough! It’s like dark chocolate with sea salt (you must try). It’s like buttercream-frosted cupcakes. It’s like a runner's high (if I could remember what that felt like). I’m addicted to the glut of reading materials on everything baby. (Aren’t you?)

Yes, I want to read more about boobs, poop, reflux, binky, blanky and bedtime. And apparently, loads of other moms and dads do, too.  Case in point: the parenting shelf at your local bookstore. More importantly, I realized I want to write more about it. (Yes, about the boobs and poop.)

See, I’m a freelance journalist and author of nonfiction books (Dog Lover’s Daily Companion, John Deere’s 52 Landscaping Projects and others published by Quarry Books). I spend my days interviewing interesting people and writing about them for magazines. I’m a feature writer. And I’m a copywriter who collaborates with design firms and corporations to generate branding materials, marketing collateral, websites, all sorts of stuff. Words are my life. And now, those words have collided with a perfect storm named Max.

I’m afraid if I don’t start writing about the episodes Max and I—and our fearless Manager, Mayzie the Scottie dog—confront on a daily basis, they’ll disappear with the quick-paced calendar. He’s already 15 weeks old and all I’ve got are crib notes (pardon the pun) with good intentions to write soulful entries for his baby book. This will never happen if I don’t start writing—and let it all out. Because as a professional writer, I’ve got a hang-up about writing things that are just “for me.” I obsess over the content, the flow, the language, the grammar. It never gets done because I’m on deadline for something else (that pays me). But enough of that noise. I’ve decided I don’t want to lose precious memories, so I’m going to shut down the bossy editor who lives in my head and start telling these stories.

So here I am, after quite a hiatus from writing blogs that are personal and not marketing-driven for my business, WriteHand Co. I’m inspired, big time. (Thanks, Max.) I’m going to start pouring out my daily babble and maybe even entertaining a few people in the meantime. (You can let me know if I’m accomplishing this by commenting on my posts.) And I’m going to write three times weekly. (This is my personal accountability stunt: hold me to it.)

And here’s the best thing: I’m inviting you to join the party. (BYOB—that’s Bring Your Own Baby…and beer, or both.) So, don't be surprised if I contact you for an "interview." I’ll feature sections of my blog, including:

• Birth Stories: Everyone loves to read and share the details of their very own Labor Day. I'll be asking you to share yours.
• What’s Up With That? It happened, you cringed, you laughed, you cried, then you figured out how to move on. (Thank goodness!)
• Recipes: For baby, for families, for mom’s cravings..
• What I Learned About…Moms share snippets that save us money, time, sanity.

I hope you’ll find this blog to be entertaining, resourceful – like a much-needed coffee break with a good friend who feels just as exhausted yet elated, frazzled yet empowered. (Isn’t it funny how these emotions all do the tango?)

Now it’s time to get started…here’s hoping you’ll suck down the words on Momma’s Write and love them like your first postpartum beer.