Why New Moms Belong in a Sorority House

I loved living in my sorority house in college, but I certainly didn't realize how lucky I was until I graduated and had to move out on my own.  One night, I was holstering on my (less than desirable) hands-free pumping bra (a must have for all you new moms) and it reminded me of a far less complicated time in my life:  my sorority days.  I know that sounds like an awkward correlation, so let me explain. 
Back in the day, my sorority used to pass around a "Support Bra" during our chapter meetings to fellow sorority sisters who were working on something important and needed a little "support" from her sisters.  If you were the proud recipient of the Support Bra, you had to sign your name on the frisbee-shaped GGG-sized cups and wear the bra over your dress for the rest of the chapter meeting.  It was like marking your territory in the high school yearbook, but much, much funnier.

For the record, I think my inscription read something like, "JG - Phi Director, Fall 2001 - Surviving September 11 and the House Burning Down with 60 Phis."  Not funny at the time, but, that's a whole other story...

I remember drifting off to a dream (not a daydream, because daydreams happen during the day, and I'm sure the only time I dreamt at this point in my life was at 3 a.m.) as I hooked myself up to my hospital-grade Medela pump.  The hum of the pump's dual engines, powerful enough to charge a small fleet of cruise boats, sent my mind wandering to what it might be like to live back at in my sorority house.  Except now, with newborn twins.  And I tell you what...our national office should really consider it. 

Tell me if you disagree, but I'm pretty sure these are reason enough to move back to my college digs with a pair of newborns:

1.  Three hot meals a day that I wouldn't have to lift one finger to make.  Hell yes.  Oh, and for Mr. Troy to recognize I've been up all night and whip me up a peanut butter-crushed oreo-and-apple concoction that's a "cure all" to help me get myself together for the day ahead.  This reason alone is enough for me to crawl back to West Jefferson and beg for a room.

2.  A pink note in my mailbox that kindly reminds me that my bills are due.  Please and thank you.  This would have saved me from begging Comcast to not shut off my cable when I accidentally used my monthly bill as a bottle coaster for weeks on end and forgot to pay.

3.  There was always someone awake.  You could count on someone studying/coming home/hanging out in the TV room, at all hours.  This would be amazing when I just wanted to get one hour of sleep.  Or go to the gym.  Or spend the weekend at the beach.  It may have taken a bit of bribery (everybody has a price), but know I could have convinced someone to watch the girls for a bit.  Would there be a slight credibility issue with some of these people?  Sure.  But I wasn't the most stand-up parent either, after a three-day binger of no sleep.

4.  Chapter meetings to help remind me what it is I'm supposed to be doing each week, along with a wall calendar downstairs that detailed my daily activities.  (And sometimes even a king-sized banner that hung on the front of the house to remind me of something *really* important.)  Oh, and ending every chapter meeting with "5 Minutes of Positive" would have been refreshing.  My shoutout would be something like, "Jessi - you breastfeed like a crazy mother ***!  You are amazing and we love you!  And don't worry, you'll have your pre-baby body back in no time!!" 

5.  And lastly, I would have liked a little pick-me-up each day, like a few friendly presents emblazoned with my name and/or monogram, waiting for me on the table in the foyer.  A giant pomping mug or lap desk paint-penned in my favorite colors, or even a candy jar filled of my favorite snacks...gah.  That could have really nipped those mommy blues right in the bud. 

I didn't get past reason #5 because the timer on ol' Betty the Breast Pump went off, which meant I had a full 30 minutes to sleep before the feeding cycle started all. over. again...

Youth is wasted on the young, I tell ya.

50 Shades of Mommy

So I joined the craze and read 50 Shades of Gray.  After weeks of daytime TV claiming it was every mom's dream read (I believe the term was "mommy porn"), I had to find out for myself.  So, I packed up the girls and we took a little field trip to Barnes & Noble.  (Yes, I know...I took the girls to buy this book.  I'm a terrible mother...wah, wah, wah.)  After acting like I was on a casual search for 15 minutes and still not finding the book, I had to throw the towel in and ask an employee where I could find it.  I did a quick scan of all possible options.  It was pretty slim.  Middle-aged single lady who looked like she lived in a house full of cats won. 

Me (choking out words in something slightly above a whisper, and in an accent I was unfamiliar with):  "Excuse me?  Um..can you tell me where I can find (whisper goes down an entire register) Fiftyshadesofgray? 

Cat Lady (loud enough for everyone in the store, parking lot and nearby bank to hear, and with a southern drawl that would have made Dolly Parton cry):  "Did you say FIFTYYY  SHADEZZZ OF GRAYYY?"

Me (eyeballs as big as softballs, temperature rising to about 101 degrees, and dozens of choice words ping-ponging in my head):  "Uh, yes." 

Cat Lady:  " Well, you can find FIFTY SHADES OF GRAY and the entire trilogy, for that matter, in our EROTIC FICTION section."

At this moment, I'm pretty sure everyone from here to Statesboro is now staring at me, waiting to see what my next move will be.  And with that, I tandem-strolled right into the Erotic Fiction (who knew?) and scooped up my copy in about 1.5 seconds.  On the way out of the EF section, I passed a young college girl whose eyes cut me with what I'm sure said, "It looks like you've already had enough erotica at your house, lady."  

I finally reach the B&N cash wrap, and of course, there's a ginormous table with what must have been 20 million copies of 50 Shades.  At that point, all I could do was laugh (and continue to sweat) and throw my copy up on the counter.  The only person working the register was a thirtysomething guy who looks like he might have a calendar countdown to the Avengers theatre release.  He rang it up without making small talk (thank gah) but didn't let me get too far away before he winked at me and said, "Enjoy!" It gives me the heeby jeebies just to type that. 

So...was 50 Shades of Gray worth it?  Sort of. 

Was it beyond entertaining?  Yes.  Was it mommy porn?  Not really.  I was more scared (and scarred) than anything.  I was a college girl once, too...and I did lots of ridiculous stuff to get the attention of cute guys.  I even wore a garter to homecoming and prom in high school...scandy, I know!  (That story used to always bring my co-workers to tears.  Apparently, only hookers wear garters to high school dances.)  But either way, I'm here to tell you that the "red room of pain" would have been a dealbreaker for this gal.

Maybe I'm old and jaded, but I think my 50 Shades of Gray have been replaced by the 50 Shades of Mommy.  I cheer when my kids play together without punching each other in the face.  Eddie & I high-five when we take the girls in public and they act like decent human beings.  We dance in the kitchen when L or M pees in the potty or goes all day without an accident in their Dora drawers. 

Maybe we're just too simple for anything more. :)

The Devil Wears Prada (or Banana, if we're being literal)

There's a part of my former self that nags at me from time to time.  It's like the little devil on your shoulder.  Only this devil is wearing a suit and heels, and emphatically checking her BlackBerry.  She only rears her perfectly-coifed head when I'm checking Facebook and see a friend talking about a business trip to a cool, new city...or when I meet someone in Savannah for the first time...or when I hear the generic ring of a BlackBerry (which for the record, I think still causes me to grind my teeth in my sleep.)

This former self creeps into my head and wants me scream out loud, "Hey - I'm not *just* a stay at home mom!  I used to have an AMAZING CAREER!  I'm smart!  Ask me about ME!!"  It can be so distracting.  And from time to time, I let her slip out of the dungeon and all of the sudden, I'm saying ridiculous things in menial conversation with people I hardly know, like:

"Well, I mean, I *did* work in communications at the Big Red Machine for eight years, so I know great writing when I see it."

"Of course I'm on Twitter.  I've been on Twitter since before it was considered mainstream media."  (I believe there's also an eye roll included with this one...and everyone knows I was late to the Twitter game.)

"Sure, I don't mind leading the public relations/communications workgroup for (insert any random community or church project I'm signing up for these days.)  I don't know if I've told you, but *ahem* I used to work in communications.  For eight years.  In a few different capacities."

Self-validation for a working-mom-gone-stay-at-home mom is exhausting.

And the irony of all of this is, I rather enjoy the obscurity of being home with my girls.  I like not having to go to the bathroom with my phone.  I enjoy forgetting what day of the week it is, and being able to cook dinner for my family every night.  And the most awesome-wonderful-amazing-terrific feeling is not having the Sunday night demons before a week I know will grind me up and spit me out. 

Actually, the most awesome-wonderful-amazing-terrific feeling is sleeping in with L&M and watching Mickey Mouse Clubhouse on any random day of the week ;)

Strawberry Fields

For those of you who know me, strawberries are close to my heart.  When my family moved to Florida in 1997, we landed near Plant City, Florida, which is the nation's winter strawberry capital and home of the Florida Strawberry Festival. 

When Florida strawberries arrive in my grocery store, I can hardly contain myself.  It's like having a little piece of home right in my kitchen.  And I think they taste 100 times better than the berries from California, but that's another story.  In fact, that makes me think of a funny story...

This is a total sidebar, but a few years ago, I sat next to (what I thought was) a regular ol' senior citizen at the Georgia Chamber of Commerce legislative session kick-off breakfast.  I couldn't really understand much of what the old man was saying, but I did pick up that he was talking about states in the southeast and their produce (random, right?!)  I dove right in to the convo and told him that being a Florida girl, I was disappointed that I couldn't find my Florida strawberries in my grocery store at the time.  After the conversation went on for awhile, the old man was whisked away to another table...and a guest at the table politely told me that the old man I was talking to was the Georgia Ag Commissioner.  Great.  I'm sure he loved my comment about Florida produce.  Glad I didn't get fired. 

Anyway, all of that to say...I took L&M strawberry picking this week at the University of Georgia Co-Op Extension Farm in Savannah.  While Georgia strawberries can't rival their big brother in Florida (I can say that now that I'm not chatting with the Commish), it was still a fun morning and the girls had a great time! 

Now, I need to break out my Florida Strawberry Festival cookbook and figure out what to do with three pounds of berries. :)

See Ya at the Sand Gnats Game!

A few weeks ago, we headed to Grayson Stadium to cheer on our new hometown baseball team, the Savannah Sand Gnats!  It was the perfect night to take in America’s Favorite Pastime…not too hot (yes, it’s only May and we’re already faced with insufferable heat in this town) and the girls got to hang out with their new friend and neighbor, Kash.  Kash's daddy plays for the Sand Gnats, so between climbing the stairs and eating french fries, the girls also had their first crack at cheering for Mr. Brandon while he was up to bat.   It will be good practice for the fall, when they'll be cheering on the Seminoles. 

Like almost everywhere else I've been with the girls in this town, I couldn't get over how kid-friendly the entire experience was.  (I need to dedicate an entire post to how amazing I think Savannah is for children.)  The girls were in love with the lower concourse where they could spy on Gnate the Gnat and run free like they were rounding the bases.  L&M thought Gnate was Mickey Mouse from a distance, and although disappointed that the Mouse wasn’t in Savannah, they were still excited to look at Gnate from afar.  I'm thinking next time, we may get close enough for a high-five.  Jury's still out.

The girls loved running around Historic Grayson Stadium (the oldest working minor league ballpark in America) so much, that we actually stayed for the entire game and Eddie and I even got to watch some of it.  It was a miracle evening for parents of toddlers.  Amen. 

And on that note, this game won't be our last!

New Life...New Blog?

I've been racking my brain for the last few months over this blog.  My exit plan when I left my full-time job was to pour all of my energy (I'm laughing as I write this...did I really think I'd have energy for a blog after watching after two toddlers all day?!!) into writing a steady blog.  A friend of mine with whom I'd shared my plan to delve into blogging my mom experiences recently sent me a text that said, "So...any progress on the blog?"  AHHHH!  Someone was actually holding me semi-accountable for this crazy plan that I shared over a cafeteria turkey sandwich...

Needless to say, that text sent me into overdrive and I've been dedicating my nights to getting things going.  It's definetly more work than I had anticipated, but I'm excited about my new blogging adventure!  After all, my children will never believe all of the insane stuff they put me through if I don't document it.  :) 

Time for a Refresh...a Serious Refresh!

This is probably the 47th time in the last few years that I've tried to kickstart this blog.  I'm mortified that I haven't been more prudent about keeping it updated, especially because I was a communicator by trade in a former life.  But now, I've made a few life changes that will allow me more time to write and keep everyone in the know.  And, I intend to hold my feet to the fire this time! 

So, to bring you up to speed on where we are now (since my last post was November 2010...aaahhh!) Eddie and I packed up our family in early 2012 and relocated to Savannah, Georgia.  The grind of two working parents shuffling toddlers to and from daycare each day was beginning to wear on us, and when the opportunity to transfer with Eddie's company came along, it seemed like fate.  So, we rolled the dice and here we are.  

Cheers to keeping up with this blog and trying to keep my fingers tapping at a keyboard while on my career sabbatical.  I don't want it to be a shock to my system when I have to reenter the workforce in a few years to help fund L&Ms Catholic education.