Category: working moms

I met Project Runway’s Anya Ayoung-Chee at the Clever Girls Collectives’ Ladies who Tech Happy Hour at the super swank Wynn/Encore hotel in Las Vegas. We both were in town for CES 2012 and taking a much needed break from the frenetic show floor.

I am normally terrible when it comes to recognizing celebrities, but I knew Anya immediately. It was as if I spent an hour with her in my living room every week for fourteen weeks in a row. Oh wait… I did.

I adored her on the ninth season of Project Runway, cheered along as she won the competition, and was thrilled at the chance of meeting her in person. She is as lovely and gracious seated across a table as she appeared to be on the show. We had a terrific conversation, and as a testament to what a tech-savvy and dedicated blogger I am, it did not occur to me to RECORD any of it until halfway in.

That night, I ran back to my hotel room (on the less then swanky side of the Strip) to record every bit of wisdom, inspiration, and insight gained from my fifteen minutes of rubbing elbows with fame. So, how did this graphic artist turned beauty queen turned reality show sensation win it all at Project Runway within just FOUR MONTHS of learning to sew?

Focus on What Matters. Forget the Rest.

What I found most inspiring about Anya was actually her inability to sew, and I told her so.

You could turn any garment that Laura, Josh, or Victor made inside out and wear it. The craftsmanship was so flawless. My clothes were probably a mess up close, but you couldn’t tell on the runway.

As Michael Kors repeats season after season of the show, “It’s Project Runway, not Project Seamstress”. Anya latched on to that idea quickly and knew exactly where  to spend her energy. She focused on her talents and did not let the other stuff (the things that didn’t matter anyway) bog her down.

She could have beaten herself up over her supposed lack of sewing abilities. She could have obsessed over all the reasons why she “shouldn’t” and “can’t” and “what if”, all the while talking herself out of even trying. Instead, she decided to win.

Everyone is filling a role that they think they ought to be.

The funny thing about TV is that we use it to watch “reality” when we know perfectly well that it is anything but… Scenes are edited. Words are taken out of context. Other things are added. Yet, we still want to believe that it’s all truth and goodness.

I’ve only been on one side of it, so I asked Anya what it was really like to be on Project Runaway. The REAL Project Runway.

The cattiness and drama on the show was… surprise… edited into the show. According to Anya the entire group was very supportive of one another and had a strong sense of camaraderie.  Remarks seen on TV were taken out of context or completely forgotten.

This made it awkward to watch the show together, but we all understood that what you saw on TV wasn’t real.

When I asked what it was like to be judged on the runway week after week, she admitted that it truly was nerve-wracking.

“Michael Kors was so funny,” she added. She knew not to take his remarks personally, but use it as advice. “Heidi, Tim, Michael, Nina. They all wanted us to succeed and they were only trying to help. They just seemed harsher when on TV because that was the role they were supposed to play”.

I’m very guilty to taking any sort criticism to heart.  My first reaction is to lash out, defend myself, or just freak out. In reality, there can be a lot of good to be gained from criticism– an opportunity to do better, suggestions for improvements, holes in your plan. However you want to take it, it’s just as important to consider the source. Perhaps, they too are simply “playing a role” that they think they need to fill.

Get to work.

When Tim Gunn visited Anya at home, she had completed very little. At the time, there was civil unrest in her home country, a lot going on in her personal life, and the added pressure of competing on the show. “The stress was just so overwhelming!” she said, and it showed in her work. She flitted from one idea to another, accomplishing nearly nothing. How many of us can relate to this? 

The best advice from Tim was to just muscle through.

Treat my workroom as an intensive incubator. Start draping muslin. Get to work.

I asked how she was able to find her focus during the show. While the show was broadcast once a week, the challenges came one right after the other with very little time to rest and regroup in between. “It was grueling,” says Anya, but she credits her success to remaining focused and being cut off from the rest of the world. All together. All in it together. There were no distractions or outside delays.

It’s no surprise that the most productive time is alone time, free of interruptions and distraction. And, the best way to get alone time is to demand it.  Set aside specific hours in which you turn off your phone, block social media, and don’t hold any meetings. Shut the door, sit down, and focus nonstop.

In other words, GET TO WORK.

In a few minutes, I’m boarding a flight and covering a press event in Southern Cali. It’s a quick trip and not even very far, but it’s an eternity in terms of documenting the logistics involved with two kids and a household. All of which will be in the care of my husband in my absence.

It’s not that my husband can’t handle everything. It’s just that he doesn’t, so I normally don’t bother sharing details like what time the house cleaners show up or where you’re supposed to stand for afternoon pick up.

Earlier this week, I could tell that my constant reminders about this and that were causing a hint of shock and panic in his eyes. So I took the time to write it all down—color-coded and by date and child.

What they ought to wear. What needs to be brought to school. Pick up times. 

Before I packed my bags, I made sure all of the checks for daycare were written and homework folders were completed. I order extra diapers and bought snacks for my daughter’s “God’s Creation Celebration” (her new Christian preschool’s nod to Halloween). I filled the freezer with food, pretending that we don’t always eat like that anyway….

It’s a lot to remember and I usually rely on a series of notes and daily alarms to tell me of where I need to be at any given moment. Even then, I still send back permission slips without a check and forget to return the unsold Entertainment Book and raffle tickets. (oops!)

It’s only gotten worse since I  started working in an office again, but I don’t care if I come off as a slacker mom to other people.  I’m willing to give up my reputation as the “one in the know” and skimping on the home-cooked meal, so long as my kids never feel the pinch.

Luckily, I’ve managed to shape my hours and my travel around their schedules. I‘m doubly lucky to have a supportive husband who is willing to embrace the chaos while I’m away.

I was feeling pretty confident about leaving for a few days until I received an email from my son’s teacher. She wrote to inform me that he is being given an award at morning assembly tomorrow.

It’s a surprise (so, shh… don’t tell him) and I won’t be there to see the look on his sweet little face.

Suddenly, I don’t know that I am making a fair exchange or that they won’t be feeling the pinch.

Confession. Every third day, I  think about going back to work. Seriously.

Each time, my reason is completely different. Some days it’s because I caught a glimpse of the person  I once was. Take charge. Ambitious. Creative. Smart. I miss that girl. She was cool. I wonder what happened to her.

Other days, my intentions are less noble. Months and months ago, while potty training my son and cleaning up yet another puddle on the floor, it would occur to me, “If I were at work right now, this would be someone else’s problem. Not mine!”.

Most of the time, it happens because, simply put, I am worn down…from LIFE.  And as we all know, a body that is worn down is more susceptible to catching things….

Things like myopia and  “grass-is-greener”-itis.

Then, the phone rings or I remember that we’re supposed to be somewhere, and I get back in the game. My “ambivalence” is set aside for another day.  I go on doing what has to get done, because that’s what moms do.

It takes a book like Just Let Me Lie Down to remind me that the grass is NOT greener.  I remember that I left my job for some very valid reasons– two to be exact…

These feelings, while oftentimes overwhelming and isolating, are not unique to me. They’re unique to motherhood. As moms, we all face the same challenges, guilt, and sense of obligation. Financial issues aside, we all have choices to make. However, the supreme choice is whether or not to be happy.

So last week, when a opportunity presented itself, I jumped on it. A leap of faith, if you will.  It’s a role that’s completely in line with what I used to do, but would still allow me to be home with my kids.  So after tucking my kids into their beds, I held my breath and applied. A few days later, I was asked to submit a resume.

As part of my megalomania personal growth, I update my resume each year. Although with moving and baby and moving again, I’ve been a little behind on it this year… and last, but at least I knew where to find it on my computer.

When I attempted to open the Word doc, an error message popped up saying the “file is corrupt”. I tried  several  more times, but it was no use. It was clear that my resume, containing all of my accomplishments and  achievements, could not be salvaged.

There’s an analogy in there that I would rather not dwell upon.

Disclosure: I received a copy of Just let Me Lie Down, Necessary Terms for the Half-Insane Working Mom by Kristin van Ogtrop to read and discuss as a contributor for the Silicon Valley Moms Blog. The thoughts and opinions expressed above are my own.

Kristin van Ogtrop is the editor of Real Simple magazine and writes a blog of her own called Adventures In Chaos. Her book is a fantastic read for any self-described half-insane mother. (That would be every mother, right?) You can purchase your own copy from any of these fine retailers.

To read other posts inspired this book, please click here.

As a kid, did you ever have that experience of grabbing your mom’s leg only to realize that it wasn’t her leg? In fact, it was actually some other lady’s leg and now she (and your mom) are laughing at you…

Well, this has been happening to me constantly lately, except in reverse and not at all in the same way.

You see, I’m Filipino by ancestry. (American by birth. White by assimilation.)

I’m short, brown, young(…ish), and usually dress down when I’m out and about… and because of this I’m commonly mistaken for the NANNY.

I’ll be spotting my son on the monkey bars when suddenly random children will run  up to me demanding a snack… or to tattle… or to ask permission to go down the slide…

I just smile and point them in the direction of their real nanny, who is usually sitting on her rear at the faaaaaaar side of the playground chatting on her cell phone and totally oblivious to the fact that I could have sold her little meal tickets into child slavery by now.

(A bit dark, I know but seriously… Mom and Dad? Did you even bother to check her references?)

I get it. I get it. Mommy is blond and goes to work. Nanny is… umm, ethnic and goes to the park, but I sometimes I just want to say…

“Hey Kid, just because I’m BROWN, doesn’t mean I’m here to do something for YOU…”

(Stupid UPS)

At least, no one has tried to lure me with a promise of a fat salary, room and board, and a greencard  in exchange for “jumping ship”, but I know it’s coming any day now…

(By the way, that picture looks remarkably like me doesn’t it? I found it by Goggling “nanny”. I am NOT amused…)

When I mentioned a few posts ago that my next door neighbor told me that “no one stays home with kids in Silicon Valley”, I left off the last part of her statement. It was, “…because no one can afford it”.

Great googly-moogly was she right!

Two meals’ worth of groceries and a couple of basics for two healthy adults and one preschooler who munches a spoonful of peas, then takes ah bite out of ah chicken nugget before saying, “All done, Mommy” shouldn’t cost $140. And yet it did.

I’ve since stopped feasting on champagne and caviar. I’ve also reverted to my spendthrift ways of shopping from the weekly adverts and clipping coupons so that our weekly grocery bill doesn’t resemble a mortgage payment anymore.

Still… the cost to insure and register the car? Paying for preschool? The house?

“Shocking” doesn’t even begin to describe the little bit of throw up in my mouth every time I think about it… which is A LOT and often.

So even though the timing is all wrong and our life is all kinds of complicated at the moment, I’ve been giving serious consideration to going back to work.

Ideally, I would prefer to do something from home and/or part-time so I could still be home with Scout and the newest littlest one. Just something to bring in a little extra to fund trips to Maui our kids’ college and help rebuild my wardrobe our savings…

Then, on a whim last weekend, I decided to search for my old job in online advertising. (Not my actual old job since that’s back in Texas and last I checked there was someone else there doing it, but something along those same lines.)

As I read over the job descriptions, a knot began forming in my tummy…

“Planning, managing, and executing online advertising campaigns.​”

“Work with agencies and in-house creative in developing media plans, manage budgets, and develop creative.​”

“Report performance on all online media acquisition/​retention efforts including spend, conversion number of customers acquired and ROI.​ Track and report on campaign results, data analysis, and hold weekly campaign status calls with agencies.​”

Umm, c-c-could I do that???

What the hell is wrong with me?! Of course I could… and once DID. Every. Single. Day.

There’s been a lot of talk in the media (and even a Momversation) about a condition called, “Momnesia”.

Does motherhood really make you dumber?

Sure, I’ve done a lot of goofy things since becoming a mom, but I did even goofier things before. (Just ask any my roommates from college and grad school.) So no, I don’t think the onset of motherhood has had anything to do with it.

While living in London, I met a brilliant engineer and mother of three who once told me that it wasn’t intelligence lost with each maternity leave, but rather self-confidence.

Shortly after returning to work, her boss asked if she had any experience with a particular computer program. She paused, told him that she didn’t think so, and he simply went on to assign the project to a colleague.

A bit later, she recalled that DUH, she knew that program. Quite well, in fact. She only spent a year helping to WRITE it, but somehow that tiny detail of her life slipped her mind in her post-motherhood haze.

According to her, it wasn’t the momentary forgetting that irked her, but the pause. Before taking her year or more (!!!) of leave (yes, American moms, let’s all take a moment to hiss and boo in envy), she would never have doubted herself in the first place.

It wasn’t even that long ago that I quit my job… as in barely over two years “not that long” ago.

In grad school, I was team leader on every project and got nothing by As. I used to take on impossible projects (and difficult clients) and I never gave it a second thought. People used to value my professional opinion, not only because of what I said but because of how I said it.

Even if I didn’t quite know how to do something, I used to have the ambition and self assurance to pull it off anyway… or at least, have the good manners to fake it.