So I've done some stuff I would considered weird in the bathroom, I talk to my friend in Atlanta for hours on end and sometimes I need to pee so yes, sometimes I take the phone into the bathroom with me. It seems I always need to ask fiancée questions when either one of us is on the john. However, I can honestly say I have never ever eaten a cupcake in the bathroom.
I work for a cupcake and coffee shop. I will be the first to say that our cupcakes are heavenly. However I have never needed to eat the cupcake so badly and simultaneously had to pee enough that I would think to eat the cupcake in the bathroom. You would be surprised how many cupcake crumbs I have to clean up in the bathroom. Its enough to fill up a standard sized dust pan. At first, I thought maybe it was just crumbs stuck on clothing that came loose when pants were dropped, however that is very unlikely considering the amount of crumbs I am finding and the fact that the tables and the counter are on the other side of the store. That's a lot of crumbs defying the gravity of standing up from the table and walking that distance. Still, I held onto that belief until today, when I saw a bathroom eater in action. She ordered 6 cupcakes and when she was done buying I saw her go over to a table, open up the box, remove a cupcake and then proceed into the bathroom. When she came out the cupcake was gone, she picked up the box from the table and left. I tried to keep my eyes to the floor as she passed by the counter so she couldn't see the judgement within them.
Not only is it weird and shocking to me that women will eat cupcakes in the bathroom, it also weirds me out that I want to know how exactly they are eating these cupcakes to make such a mess. I would think that at least most of the crumbs would fall into the toilet but no, there is always a group of crumbs in front of the toilet when I go in there to sweep. How far are these women leaning over to eat these cupcakes while sitting on the toilet?
You may have noticed that I'm calling the bathroom cupcake eaters, women. Although men constantly do weird and disturbing things that I don't understand, I have never found any cupcake crumbs in the men's bathroom. I have a few theories on why this is. Perhaps they do not eat their cupcakes in the bathroom because they need both hands? Or maybe they too eat them in the bathroom but I don't know it because they are facing the toilet and so the crumb evidence gets flushed away... when they remember to flush. Perhaps they do eat in the bathroom but men more often buy fewer of the cupcakes and more of the less messy cookies. So far the evidence is pointing that the men are not eating the cupcakes in the bathroom, however they have their own problems, like being unable to take out one paper towel out of the holder without 5 falling on the floor.
I'd like to hear some theories from you. Are you a closeted bathroom eater? Its okay you can tell us. This is a safe place.
Thursday, December 23, 2010
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
A Working Mom's Guilt
When I found out I was pregnant with Lucas I was working for an office. As the due date got closer and closer I was sure I’d be ready to go back to work and join the real world after my maternity leave. Being a stay-at-home mom was not for me. At 6 months pregnant I was laid off, there was no way to get a job for just three months so I was pretty much forced to do the stay-at-home mom thing.
Being a new mom and staying at home with an infant was more challenging than I ever dreamed it could be. Showers are a luxury, you’re constantly with another human being but, because the baby can’t talk, you struggle with loneliness. However it is one of the most rewarding experiences I’ve ever had. Every new word or gesture that he did that I taught him made me stare in awe as I realized that my predictable daily routine had a purpose. I was a stay-at-home mom for 17 months of my little boy’s life. Then I got a job.
It couldn’t have come at a more inopportune time. It was Thanksgiving week. It was also moving week for us. Fiancée and I were staying with my mother and had finally found our own place we could afford. I don’t know if this is common knowledge, but let me tell you, babies don’t like change. So to go from a by the minute daily routine with mommy to mommy leaving him at grandma’s house all day, then coming home to a completely new and unfamiliar environment, oh and then lets spend an entire day being carted off to one place after another and getting stuffed with mash potatoes in large noisy crowded rooms, then the next day being abandoned at grandma’s again, and because that’s not enough lets sprout four teeth at one time and add a cold into the mix. It was the week from hell. The next week wasn’t much better, but slowly he turned back from the little screaming monster filled with resentment and an abundance of snot, back to the sweet smiling well adjusted little angel he used to be. That was when the guilt set in.
When Luke was busy being a monster, as horrible as it is to say, I didn’t have much of a problem leaving him. Driving to work was quiet time. I hadn’t had quiet time in a very long time, and I missed it so I welcomed it back like an old friend and forgot about all those guilty feelings I was supposed to be feeling about not being home with my baby. But when Luke went back to normal and I started noticing the new things that he can do, like say “Thank You” and develop a favorite movie. (It's Cars by the way, except he calls it “beep beep.”) I realized all the things I am liable to miss by being away at work. The downward spiral of self loathing and guilt had begun and was only amplified when I realized I actually kind of liked my job. That seemed like the ultimate betrayal. I was the worst mother on the face of the planet.
Because I felt like I was the worst mother in the world for abandoning my child to be a responsible adult and work full time, I tried to make up for it by spoiling the heck out of my kid when I was home. “Sure Luke! You can have 3 cookies before noon, pull out every single DVD out of the cabinet and spread your cheerios out all over the floor, as long as you know mommy loves you!” Yeah, that didn’t go over too well with Fiancée and I knew I wasn’t really doing the little guy any favors by letting him do whatever he wanted.
My saving grace from the spiral of guilt came in two parts. My absolutely amazing future mother-in-law watches my son when both fiancée and I work. All the grandkids call her “B” short for “Grandma B.” I love this because its easy for an 18 month old to say and she gets so excited because he can say her name. Anyway, I was taking him to her house and bracing myself for the huge meltdown that was sure to come to show me he was not okay with my abandonment and reiterate that I am indeed the worst mother in the world. Instead, as soon as we got out of the car he pointed at the house and said “B” enthusiastically over and over until we got to the front door. When we went inside he found her right away and greeted her with a big smile and a “B!” and motioned her to pick him up. I thought that was cute but I was still bracing myself for the tear fest when I went to leave. So I gave him a hug and a kiss and said “ Ok baby, mommy has to go to work, I’ll see you when I get home. Love you!” then I waited for the tears… nothing… instead he looked at me, waved, and in his little toddler language said “ aye ma! Ove oo!” (for those not fluent in toddler, it means “bye ma, love you!”) I left the house and pulled out the drive way while the little guy stood at the window smiling and waving.
The tear free goodbye got me through the first 5 hours of work. “He’s really okay, he doesn’t think I’m a bad mom for leaving him, he’s having fun with his grandma, I have the greatest , most well adjusted kid in the world!” At the 5 hour mark however, a sneaky mind ninja attacked and suddenly I was filled with doubt and anxiety. “What if he’s not really okay, what if he just decided he doesn’t need me because he has grandma? He’s fine with me leaving because he has replaced me with “B” and he likes her better.” Beware those sneaky mind ninja’s they will mess you up. If I had any artistic ability I would draw you a picture so you know what to watch out for, but I don’t, so just imagine a tiny ninja clad in black practicing devastating ninja tactics on your brain. Scary huh?
I drove home to pick up Luke wondering after working eight hours if he would even remember that he had a mother when I got there. I’m not exactly sure what I was expecting when I got to the front door of “B’s” house but its definitely not what I received. As soon as Lucas saw me he did his little shaky excited dance and waved “hi.” He then gave me the biggest hug I have ever received. This knocked the mind ninja out cold. My son hadn’t forgotten who I was and just because he loved his grandmother didn’t mean he loved me less.
The self loathing guilt spiral has been beaten. Not to say I don’t feel guilty sometimes when I leave him but it definitely is not as bad as it used to be. I just remember that he’s with family that loves him and takes really good care of him and just because he doesn’t see me every second of the day anymore doesn’t mean he’s going to forget about me. He gets to spend time with his grandparents and work on socialization skills and I get to have conversations that aren’t one sided and start with “ did you make a poopy diaper?” It took me a while to realize that being a working mom could really be a win-win situation for everyone.
Being a new mom and staying at home with an infant was more challenging than I ever dreamed it could be. Showers are a luxury, you’re constantly with another human being but, because the baby can’t talk, you struggle with loneliness. However it is one of the most rewarding experiences I’ve ever had. Every new word or gesture that he did that I taught him made me stare in awe as I realized that my predictable daily routine had a purpose. I was a stay-at-home mom for 17 months of my little boy’s life. Then I got a job.
It couldn’t have come at a more inopportune time. It was Thanksgiving week. It was also moving week for us. Fiancée and I were staying with my mother and had finally found our own place we could afford. I don’t know if this is common knowledge, but let me tell you, babies don’t like change. So to go from a by the minute daily routine with mommy to mommy leaving him at grandma’s house all day, then coming home to a completely new and unfamiliar environment, oh and then lets spend an entire day being carted off to one place after another and getting stuffed with mash potatoes in large noisy crowded rooms, then the next day being abandoned at grandma’s again, and because that’s not enough lets sprout four teeth at one time and add a cold into the mix. It was the week from hell. The next week wasn’t much better, but slowly he turned back from the little screaming monster filled with resentment and an abundance of snot, back to the sweet smiling well adjusted little angel he used to be. That was when the guilt set in.
When Luke was busy being a monster, as horrible as it is to say, I didn’t have much of a problem leaving him. Driving to work was quiet time. I hadn’t had quiet time in a very long time, and I missed it so I welcomed it back like an old friend and forgot about all those guilty feelings I was supposed to be feeling about not being home with my baby. But when Luke went back to normal and I started noticing the new things that he can do, like say “Thank You” and develop a favorite movie. (It's Cars by the way, except he calls it “beep beep.”) I realized all the things I am liable to miss by being away at work. The downward spiral of self loathing and guilt had begun and was only amplified when I realized I actually kind of liked my job. That seemed like the ultimate betrayal. I was the worst mother on the face of the planet.
Because I felt like I was the worst mother in the world for abandoning my child to be a responsible adult and work full time, I tried to make up for it by spoiling the heck out of my kid when I was home. “Sure Luke! You can have 3 cookies before noon, pull out every single DVD out of the cabinet and spread your cheerios out all over the floor, as long as you know mommy loves you!” Yeah, that didn’t go over too well with Fiancée and I knew I wasn’t really doing the little guy any favors by letting him do whatever he wanted.
My saving grace from the spiral of guilt came in two parts. My absolutely amazing future mother-in-law watches my son when both fiancée and I work. All the grandkids call her “B” short for “Grandma B.” I love this because its easy for an 18 month old to say and she gets so excited because he can say her name. Anyway, I was taking him to her house and bracing myself for the huge meltdown that was sure to come to show me he was not okay with my abandonment and reiterate that I am indeed the worst mother in the world. Instead, as soon as we got out of the car he pointed at the house and said “B” enthusiastically over and over until we got to the front door. When we went inside he found her right away and greeted her with a big smile and a “B!” and motioned her to pick him up. I thought that was cute but I was still bracing myself for the tear fest when I went to leave. So I gave him a hug and a kiss and said “ Ok baby, mommy has to go to work, I’ll see you when I get home. Love you!” then I waited for the tears… nothing… instead he looked at me, waved, and in his little toddler language said “ aye ma! Ove oo!” (for those not fluent in toddler, it means “bye ma, love you!”) I left the house and pulled out the drive way while the little guy stood at the window smiling and waving.
The tear free goodbye got me through the first 5 hours of work. “He’s really okay, he doesn’t think I’m a bad mom for leaving him, he’s having fun with his grandma, I have the greatest , most well adjusted kid in the world!” At the 5 hour mark however, a sneaky mind ninja attacked and suddenly I was filled with doubt and anxiety. “What if he’s not really okay, what if he just decided he doesn’t need me because he has grandma? He’s fine with me leaving because he has replaced me with “B” and he likes her better.” Beware those sneaky mind ninja’s they will mess you up. If I had any artistic ability I would draw you a picture so you know what to watch out for, but I don’t, so just imagine a tiny ninja clad in black practicing devastating ninja tactics on your brain. Scary huh?
I drove home to pick up Luke wondering after working eight hours if he would even remember that he had a mother when I got there. I’m not exactly sure what I was expecting when I got to the front door of “B’s” house but its definitely not what I received. As soon as Lucas saw me he did his little shaky excited dance and waved “hi.” He then gave me the biggest hug I have ever received. This knocked the mind ninja out cold. My son hadn’t forgotten who I was and just because he loved his grandmother didn’t mean he loved me less.
The self loathing guilt spiral has been beaten. Not to say I don’t feel guilty sometimes when I leave him but it definitely is not as bad as it used to be. I just remember that he’s with family that loves him and takes really good care of him and just because he doesn’t see me every second of the day anymore doesn’t mean he’s going to forget about me. He gets to spend time with his grandparents and work on socialization skills and I get to have conversations that aren’t one sided and start with “ did you make a poopy diaper?” It took me a while to realize that being a working mom could really be a win-win situation for everyone.
Hi! I'm Michelle, Nice to meet you.
Some people learn to walk before they crawl. I seem to live my life that way. I get the hard stuff out of the way first which is why my parents have always said that I'm living life in reverse.
I have an incredible family that has come about by this very concept. My fiancee was first a friend, then came the sex, then the love, then the committed relationship, then the pregnancy, then the proposal and finally in June, the wedding.
This blog will be mainly a stress relieving tool for me as I deal with my new life as a mom, a fiancée and a new job as a barrista at a coffee and desserts shop 30 minutes away from my home. Expect lots of diaper and wedding planning talk and the occasional rave about the incredible cupcakes I sell at the shop. I am not a professional journalist and I'll never try to be. So expect grammatical errors and roughly edited posts.
I have an incredible family that has come about by this very concept. My fiancee was first a friend, then came the sex, then the love, then the committed relationship, then the pregnancy, then the proposal and finally in June, the wedding.
This blog will be mainly a stress relieving tool for me as I deal with my new life as a mom, a fiancée and a new job as a barrista at a coffee and desserts shop 30 minutes away from my home. Expect lots of diaper and wedding planning talk and the occasional rave about the incredible cupcakes I sell at the shop. I am not a professional journalist and I'll never try to be. So expect grammatical errors and roughly edited posts.
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