Holly Cuts to the Chase

First, Happy Mother’s Day!  This is written in the celebration of motherhood and recognition of the incredible challenge that motherhood combined with work outside the home. or even inside the home, presents. 

I get asked so often “how do you do it?” Be a mom, a surgeon, exercise, cook… holy sh*#, sounds terrible.  I hate to answer this way, because I see the look of desperation in your eyes, the deep set-in fatigue, the sense of overwhelm, the look of “I am only hanging on by the thinnest of threads so please tell me it will be ok”, but the real answer is because there is no other good choice.  Choice is the answer. And it is choice that I hope will convince you that you’ve got this, you can do it, and you can do it well. It’s worth it and you’re going to have fun along the way. I promise. 

Me & Number Three❤

There are 4 things that I have found are the true paths to sanity in the life of a working mother. Trust me when I tell you that I have not always had these and it took a bit of pain, suffering, self introspection, and, well, quite honestly, divorce, for me to get to the point where I could look at myself in the mirror and my reflection would tell me “you’ve got this!” versus me pleading with my reflection to believe in me.

1. Get rid of the resentment. 

Realign your expectations with the reality around you and be clear what others can expect of you. If you can’t meet the expectations of others, your are going to be weighed down by mother loads of guilt. Make it clear if you are on the edge. I use a line, that my husband teases me about, but it is effective. “Kids, I’m overstimulated”. Everyone knows that means that I’ve brought something home with me.. some worry, problem, sadness or fatigue and I just am not willing to handle 50 million new minor problems right this second. Write it down for me, send me a text so I remember to order the gazillion things than you need for class or Sally’s Birthday or your field trip permission slip… but give me a little mental space. They learn to respect your needs and they also learn coping strategies for when they are adults. 

The home destroyers have been working overtime ?

Realign your expectations of them. Bigly. If you think that amazing good looking man you married is going to handle baby duty during the night, split the household chores and not complain then I really hope you’re right and if you are you are the WINNER of the game of life!!!! But so often, we expect that and they fall short. It happens at home, it happens at work… people very often fall short of our expectations. But let’s face it. Who gave me the right to have expectations of what you are to do? Exactly. No one. Discuss what is reasonable, possible, achievable by their standards. It’s not enough? Hire someone to do the rest, or do it yourself.  Make a choice. What works? What doesn’t.  It’s that simple.

Do not simmer in resentful anger while your husband sits on the couch while you fold his clothing, cook his dinner, clean the dishes and then have to go back to the hospital because you’re on call. Did he tell you to do those things? Did he expect it? Did he ever, for a moment expect to do those things himself? Did you ever even ask him to help? If the answer is no, then those things were your choice to do. Don’t resent, realign. Resentment will burn you alive. It takes a lot of emotional energy to resent… and last I checked, we working moms don’t have enough emotional energy in the bank to be wasting it. 

2. Lose the scheduled obligations

Nothing stresses me out more than a scheduled obligation when deep down I know my schedule isn’t truly in my control! Pick ups from school or swim practice. Drop offs for a party or event. Omg… the horrid stress. That had to go. If I had to ask a colleague for coverage, I felt weak and lazy. If I was late for the pickup, I felt horrible mom guilt. The babysitter who has to leave by 6? The babysitter who tells you she needs next week off for a family emergency! OMG! Forget it. This is for your sanity Moms. Get someone to help. I switched to an Au Pair about 5 years ago and haven’t looked back. She’s off when I’m off, she’s off when the kids are in school. She’s on and making all those scheduled necessities until I’m home. No one can concentrate on their work properly when they are worried if their child will be the last one in the late pickup office.

When you do have a scheduled obligation, like a graduation, something important to both you and your child, take the day off. Less vacation at the end of the year? Sure… but less need for vacation… you won’t have aged 15 years running from the hospital to your car, driving likely a possessed maniac through the horrid Miami traffic, bursting in to your child’s classroom party with salad still in the store bought container with no serving utensils with a face that screams “did anyone bring wine!!!” while the rest of the moms are chillin with their kids and their perfectly made Christmas tree cut out watermelons.  Really… cut yourself some slack. Sign up for the forks and napkins or take the day off and get a pedicure and then show up relaxed and refreshed and ready to be present for yourself and your child. 

3. Find you. 

Helllooooo… where are YOU? 20-30 minutes can be dedicated guilt free to yourself everyday. Do not fall into the “you just got home and now you want to…” No, you need to. Twenty to thirty minutes  of exercise with a minute or 2 of mindful awareness can be fit it to your horrible, stressful, packed schedule and it will make a huge difference in your energy level, self esteem and health. Dear Mom, your health is the most important thing you have, please do not neglect it. A better you is a better mom, wife, doctor, nurse, banker.. you get the idea. 

Strategies that work? Wake up 15 mins earlier, while still confused and disoriented leave house with work clothes packed. Go to gym near or at work, exercise, rapid shower and go to work… since you missed traffic that 15 min sleep sacrifice just bought you at least a 30 min workout. The first 1-2 times are rough because of the pack &go… but works great if you are not the morning driver. 

Evening- family walk … I always hated this.. half of the kids wouldn’t want to go… by the time the shoes were tied and the mandatory leave-the-house supplies were packed… you know.. snacks, water, juice, toy, book, special elephant, sunglasses, hat, bin, diapers, changing pad, wipes… my heart rate has already been up for 30 mins and I would decide a glass of wine was better.  Some people this really works for and can give some extra family time. 

Shake it while you bake it! This is my GO-To! Whip up oven baked meal and then…. 40 mins.. GO!  Come home, run through house desperately attempting to restore order in the face of what seems to be constant assault from such sweet beautiful innocent appearing house destroyers. Run to kitchen and quickly prepare something that must be baked… quiche (5 mins prep on a slow day), baked ziti (10 mins), roasted veggies… watch the knife people…, you get the idea. Throw in oven and GO! Tread water in your pool, go for a run, dance party on the Wii, yoga on wii fit, break out the treadmill, bike or elliptical if you can find it under your laundry.  When the food is  done, you’re done. While food cools you can set the table (because obviously no one else has (refer to section 1), take a quick shower or not and eat with your family! Note… I strongly recommend a sign over the table that reminds the children of manners and maternal appreciation, and a rule… and statement of “dis is dissgosting” from the mouths of those lovely little angels your produced needs consequences… and no, the consequence is not you getting up and making that demanding little prima donnas a meal they like better! Again, set expectations. They expect dinner and you expect them to eat it… sans complaint. 

Don’t forget the mindful awareness. Take a minute to breath. Take a minute to smile. Tell yourself you’re awesome. 

4. Choice.

 I cannot underestimate the power of choice. Choose it, believe it, remind yourself daily, and make it happen. I choose happy. Maybe you choose success or peace or whatever makes you the person you want to be. The mom you want to be. Momma, you’re the CEO. No one can do it like you do. CHOOSE to be happy. CHOOSE to share your talents and your enthusiasm for life and career with those adorable little people you chose to have. Love those little house destroyers. They grow up fast.

Expectations

What do you do
When the expectation of you
The one we believe to be true
Just hasn’t happened

The real me
Not the one you or I wants me to be 
Begs to be free but is
Trapped in a manufactured frame

Made from your expectations and mine
Like strings or a vine 
From here to way up high they wind
Unattainable

Sadly the converse is true
I have expectations of you
An image, a vision, I’ve made up from the blue
Yet, you disappoint 

The best thing I know
Is to give up the show
Let our image form true to how the wind may blow
But it won’t work out.. 
I have expectations.

Miami is an odd place. We have manatees, salt water crocodiles (the only place in North America), pythons (imports), wild blue macaw parrot populations (escapees from Hurricane Andrew), and people from just about everywhere.  Between 70-80% of our population speak english as a second language, if at all. 

This is a melting pot of America… and it’s really just a small, small town. 

That’s the strangest thing. Everyone here knows each other, or can (and must) somehow connect you to their network… they just have to place you. It starts with “what’s your high school?” If that doesn’t work then a series of short questions will serve to find someone you know, who they know, through their brothers sister-in -law whose friend knows your son’s friend that he swims with. Done. You’ve been placed.

Miami is a place of money… and no money.. but it’s hard to tell who has and who doesn’t. Everyone drives ridiculously nice cars… someone drives a metallic gold mazerati! Money matters here. Women “invest” in their futures with plastic surgery from top to bottom and men? The men walk around with big bellies and drive fancy cars, like Porches, that ares dubbed “panty droppers”. Men work, women work even harder. It’s a tough crowd. You have to look great and stay in shape or just never visit South Beach. Drinks are expensive, housing is absurd. I understand that after a couple months of dating people will actually ask for help paying their rent. There are 2 ways to make money here. Real estate and import export. I have no idea what that means. 

Driving in Miami is insane. So insane that I have switched over to using the metro as much as is possible. There is a combination of a lot of old people coming to Miami to escape the cold. I think they headed for Bal Harbor, but overshot. There are the University of Miami undergrads… with a tuition at or near the top of the national average, these kids, for the most part are not poor. So basically you have teenagers, just granted independence, tearing through town at all hours of the day and night in cars that I still can’t afford! Then you have the facts that no one else actually learned to drive in the US, that stop signs are optional, that when you hit a traffic jam on the highway it’s a good idea to put it in reverse and floor it to get to the last exit, that turning right from the left lane is fine as long as you honk and wave angrily at everyone like they are the ones doing something insane.   Accidents are usually comprised of 2-5 imported cars.. the sum value of which is often more than my house. For some strange reason, that makes me happy.   Truly happy. And crosswalks… what’s a crosswalk? It should be a crossrun. 

Everyone here has a boat, or wants a boat,  or wants a friend with a boat – Why? To go sit at the sandbar. The sandbar is an area in the bay where about a million boats anchor on any day with sunlight and a pop up party ensues. Girls dance in bikinis on the upper decks, Pitbull is played loudly from nearly every arrival, people float, lounge and drink. The whole place smells of Hawaiian tropic, money, and beer. Some people, I think, go fishing… but I really think it’s just so they have stories to tell at the sandbar.

Language

Mira! Nadie here speaks pure English or pure Spanish. Quieres un cafecito is not Spanish in Miami.. it’s just polite, and say yes. This city runs on cafecito… hence the driving skills. Women here are called Mami or Mamacita or Mamita depending on your age and what they want from you. Little girls are called Mami from the get go. Mamacita is always said with a glance at your butt… I don’t know why, but it’s true. Here, it’s perfectly fine to call your son Gordo (fat) as a name and your wife or girlfriend “Gorda”. While I would never speak to you again, here it’s fine, and oddly a term of affection. Abuela is grandma and you can call any older woman Señora or Abuela without offending her.  

Men are called Papi. This word however can be said in different ways with different meanings.. it’s all in the “a”. A short quick Papi is just like calling them by their name, a soft Papi is more affectionate and a long Paaapi or an “ay Paaaapi” means come over here and take your clothes off. So be careful. Gringas should use this term with caution. 

Greetings

People in miami don’t shake hands. If they do, it involves a pull in with sideways hug. This makes leaving miami socially awkward because people elsewhere don’t want to be hugged and or kissed by someone they don’t know, and certainly not at professional events. When I go to meetings in Boston or New York, people pull away.. shocked by the physical contact. But here, it’s good manners. My kid’s friends all greet me with a polite hello and hug with light kiss .. usually in the air. My patient’s  parents hug me. There are different Miami hugs. The socialite hug is done in high heels and a short skirt with a slight lean forward and barely a touch and no kiss contact, but kiss noise. You should not know if those are implants or not. They usually are. The Abuela or Mami hug is a full surrender hug. This has taken some getting used to. 10 years here and I’m sure hugging me is still like hugging a bag of raised- by-northeastern-parent bones, but I’m getting more accustomed.. at least to the women. I still find the hugs of men to be uncomfortable.

Finally, shoes. Miami is what the high heel industry lives for. High heels (and when possible Manolo’s) are worn everywhere and with everything. You simply cannot land your foot on the pavement getting out from your Land Rover in your leggings and hoodie without 3″ heels. It would be unsightly. The fashion industry has responded and fortunately now 3 inch gold lame high tops are available. I saw 3 pairs at my 8 year old daughter’s swim meet yesterday. This starts young. For the 4th grade dance the school sent out a memo that specifically stated no high heels. Pero, 2 ” really isn’t “high”… right? The day of the dance I saw at least 60% of the girls striding in comfortably in their heels.. they’ve done this before. I’m 46 and can’t walk like that in high heels…  I think podiatrists must do well here. Boots in miami are a must. You absolutely must have Uggs and a pair of leather stiletto boots – and be prepared to pull them out the very second the thermostat falls below 65. These must be coupled with your shortest skirt and a trendy shoulderless sweater.. after all.. it’s cold but not that cold. You have very few opportunities so you must be prepared. The uggs are required for morning school drop off, coupled with your workout attire that is used only for this purpose. 

Miami is beautiful. From the orchids to the Spanish style mansions to the beaches with the clear blue ocean, the place is completely addictive. Year round weather perfect for outdoor activities, complete professional team apathy, not to miss things like “Robert is Here” smoothies, Misha’s cupcakes, crab legs at Joe’s  and cafe con leche at every corner make this an ideal place to vacation or live like you’re on vacation. 

Ay Papi… meet me in miami. 

I’m swimming in the ocean. The beautiful warm water surrounds me, comforts me, supports my weight as I glide through the water.  Suddenly, I feel a strong current.  The current is pulling me out,  tugging me downward, pushing my head to the bottom. A single drop of water is nothing, yet the millions together that make up the ocean have a force to be reckoned with. The drops of water together can support your weight allowing you to effortlessly float, or it can tug and pull and wash you to your death.     The ocean cannot be fought by just one person. To fight the rip current would lead to exhaustion and certain death… To surrender? The same. And yet, a steady onward progression peacefully protesting the horrible tugs and pulls of the mighty ocean leads to safety.

Ladies, it is our responsibility, our duty and perhaps our mission to look forward – keep our heads and eyes up and peacefully progress. I’m not talking about the presidency- that is only a symptom of the underlying disease. I’m talking about sexism. I’m talking about bias. We see it every damn day.  It surfaces in our jobs, in our homes and in our kid’s schools. We pretend that it doesn’t exist. I do. I go to work and I work. I ignore the comments, the looks, the men that speak over me or for me. We don’t want to make a fuss or fight or “be that girl/lady”. But that is getting us nowhere. That attitude is known as Stereotype threat. Basically, we are expecting the stereotype and for reasons unknown, we feed into it. We are paid less, respected less and promoted less, and I for one am not going to leave this battle to my daughters to fight.

When I decided to become a surgeon I was completely unaware that women didn’t do this.. didn’t become surgeons. It always strikes me as a strange thing when smart, bright talented women medical students question their ability to be a woman and a surgeon. After all, we operate with our hands. 

What happens between the time we are strong beautiful open minded girls to when we become cautious, defensive, submissive women? WHAT HAPPENS?When I belt out Beyoncé “who rules the world” my 8 year old daughter choruses “GIRLS!!!”. She has no idea that it’s a lie. And hell if you think I’m going to tell her.  But it doesn’t need to be. In a way we do, and in every way we could. We just have to stand up, look up and keep moving forward. 

I listened to the most amazing interview this week on NPR. The interview was a Cuban American immigrant, now American, who voted in the election for a tough stance on immigration. He stated that yes, he related to the refugees, to their plight. He said for the first years in the US he supported immigration, he wanted the same for others that he had achieved, but then, he realized that the immigrants he supported had become his competitors for jobs, for opportunity and he didn’t want that. Regardless of whether I agree or not, I understand the mentality. Ladies.. it is just that.. we were welcomed into the workplace, into the military, into the workforce.. and guess what? We’re good! Maybe even equal… maybe even better and that is a problem. We ARE the competition. So don’t think this is going to be easy. Don’t think for a second the glass ceiling is going to shatter it’s self.. or the men will hand you a hammer. Some will.. those with the intelligence to recognize the world will be its best when those who are most able, most willing, best equipped do the jobs they are best at.. man or woman. But others will build a rip current.. slowly joining and pulling and tugging to stop our forward progress to bring us down. 

Just as the ocean builds its power by the millions of drops of water, we too can join together, an ocean of women, a tide of change, a wave of success. Heads up, ladies. You don’t need to fight you only need to acknowledge the pull, the tug to push you down, pull up, join together. Don’t look away. It’s time.