Do you remember being able to call the the neighbor kid over to watch your kids for a couple of hours without it breaking the bank? It was no big deal, right? "Hi Sarah, listen I have to run a few errands is Nicole free?" "Sure, I'll send her over." You'd give her a few dollars - she was happy, the kids were happy and you got the errands done. No one went broke and it wasn't a line item on your budget. What happened?
My husband I moved out to the West Coast 10+ years ago with a 10 year old. He could manage himself just fine. Had lots of interests to keep him occupied and so when we went looking for a sitter, we looked no further than the neighbors we'd met then. They had a son not much older and the two boys did well with each other. Off we went to our movie or our dinner. It was nice.
Times changed and my daughter came along. Gratefully, my 10 year old had become a tweenager and was a built-in sitter. He dutifully ignored her for 3 hours at a time while we went off to a movie and everyone was happy....well sort of. She would complain but that was expected. Finally, he got very busy with a life of his own and friends that drove and so we went in search of our first sitter.
We had a string of sitters that were lovely but pricey. For $10/hour, you could get a wonderful well-bred high school student in athletic gear who would put your child to bed an hour and a half after you left then paint her toes and watch TV for the same price. No problem with the activites, I get it...I used to look after kids for pocket money but OUCH! We'd have to run past the ATM to get $40 to pay the sitter after dropping $45 on dinner and $40 on a movie. Clearly, we had to extend our search.
We tried a few different girls - all wonderful - all expensive. It's a problem isn't it? You have to go out as a couple from time to time or you become THAT couple in the restaurant. You know the one. They sit there staring at their placemats or worse - past their partner's right ear into the distance - for an hour....or more. There's nothing to say. So instead, you pony up and smile when you get back home.
There's another problem with their system too. They go away. I'm not always sure where but they stop becoming available. Sure there's college and all the studying, etc. But how many can you lose to a state with only 5 universities. Where are all the babysitters? Is that it then...the price is so high because they are in limited quantity and high demand? Like blue diamonds.
What does a teenager need $40 - 60 dollars for? After a few babysitting sessions, he or she could start purchasing major hardware - iPods and such - that could also render them unavailable as they watch TV on their new Plasma screen rather than take your lousy job watching little Johnny for 3 hours and they all know little Johnny is a screamer that doesn't go to bed.
Recently, I found out that there's a whole system set up by adults who look after each others' kids and there's someone who manages this human database. And it comes with rules. Like, if you're a part of this cooperative effort, you must donate X amount of time per month to looking after someone else's kiddos. That seems fair. And if you belong, and there doesn't seem to be a fee (other than the emotional one), you have to be clear with your kids on what's expected of them, etc. And so on. It seems like a terrific idea. A wonderful backlash to the sitter supply and demand that is essentially a system gone wrong. So how does one get into this group. It took 10 years for me to even find out about it - clearly I'm not hanging with the right people ;-)
Well, it turns out you have to be invited. I don't know for sure, but I imagine that as this community of unknown parents revolves around you or you revolve around it there is some process that is occurring. Some means by which you are being evaluated as to your abilities, your sensibilities, your value to the group. How safe are you? That would make sense but how does one ever know? Do you have guns in the home? You can't just drop that bomb in a casual conversation. People remember things like that; no it must be carefully crafted. Further, what are your views on...name your controversial topic. Are the couple being considered a little too eager with their views or perhaps too vague or even - do they have an opinion? Do they socialize outside of the workday? With whom? Are there dinners or brunches with friends? Who are their friends? Their children's friends? What can we learn of their children? Hhmmm...... Is $40 too much?
Monday, February 22, 2010
The Performance Review
Throughout my career as a clinical social worker I looked forward to my performance review. You see, when I started in my first clinical position, I had a terrific supervisor who was an extraordinary therapist. He believed in setting personal and professional goals and revisiting them throughout the year. It wasn't just an exercise leading to a miniscule raise in pay but a true growth opportunity. Learn about yourself. Delve. Ask the tough questions and be prepared to challenge your ideals. So I did. My goals might include how I related to specific disorders (i.e. borderline personality disorder), themes in psychiatry, or whole populations. For example, when I first started working, I had many patients who were in the end stages of AIDS. We weren't allowed to spend more than a couple of minutes in the room, touch them, and we had to wear an inordinate amount of gear: mask, cap, gloves, gown just to enter the room. These were folks that hurt, that were terrified and lonely, alone because no family or friends would come to the hospital. How did I feel about working with someone who had an illness who's origin was unknown that exhibited the scariest end of life stage one could imagine. Did I agree with putting red marks on their hospital doors? What if you were stuck with a needle? What do I do when someone wants to talk about death and grieving - I only had 2 minutes but my heart had all the time in the world.
Later, my reviews might include my desire to grow into more of a leadership role. A step by step guide to how I would achieve some of what was needed to arrive at that year's goal. It was wonderful to discuss these in depth with supervisors who were on the same page and had a wealth of experience "growing" their staff. My last supervisor had less experience although the desire to have a highly trained and highly motivated staff was there. Gone were the personal goals and everything else had become operational and functionalized. Make it simple, clear and operational. Accountability is key here - important but distinctly different discussions at the end of the year.
Now that I'm no longer with that organization and am running my own not-for-profit (my family) I realized it's time to go back to my earliest days and delve into what I want for myself. It's one thing to search eagerly for that elusive job as I go from day to day but it's important to know WHO I will be when I grow out of this? What sort of balance will be achieved? Will I be able to take all that I'm learning about myself and apply it to the next stage in my career/life? What will that look like? What is the budget of my life going to look like?
It seems time to set goals. My first goal has already been set for me...search for a job that fits my skills and is reasonable for my family. An incorporation of life, family and work. Some balance rather than putting my family continuously on the back burner as I had always done. I see the phrase: work-life balance in job descriptions fairly frequently now. In the end, it'll come down to what a company's definition of work-life balance is compared to mine. Developing this definition is part of Goal 1.
Secondly, I will learn what it takes to be a good parent without falling into the trap of becoming an overindulgent parent/friend person. Having been alone with my daughter every afternoon for 7 months, I can see how easily parents can fall into this chasm and how some become the opposite. This is a tough one because it involves recognizing that limits on yourself must be placed while you might very well be emotionally crying out for your child. I imagine it's like being bulimic while still needing to eat 3 squares a day. This will be fascinating to look at closely. It is this goal more than any other that will be my challenge while I'm not working and that I will have to remind myself of often. It's the time...there's so much of it without a job to eat up those moments that tick off on the clocks around you.
The final goal that I know must be a part of this process is that I will take time out for me - to take care of me. It's difficult. We all say we're going to do this and then we don't. It's always the first thing that gets blown out of the water once I'm working or volunteering heavily or both. But it's so important. When I don't take time everyday for me, I am different. I'm not the giving, caring, competent person that is me but instead an anxious, crabby version of that gal. My husband sees this and has the patience of a saint. 12 years he's been a rock to my unrested, overextended, version of the me he fell in love with. This is an important goal.
I went for a very long walk with a dear friend several weeks ago. We had her dog and off we walked at quite a clip in the drizzle of this Seattle suburb. It was great! The puffs of steam blowing from our mouths as we pushed forward towards our midpoint - Starbucks. Leg muscles pulsing, feet slamming against cement, pine fragrance everywhere, a vision of brand new skyscrapers in the distance. Finally, with coffees in hand, we sat outside on this wintry morning with droplets making their way down the umbrella covering our table. We shared our stories of the week, stories of trips to come, concerns about rapid changes in our suburban town and reminders of school functions coming up. After making our way back, I walked into my home feeling like a million bucks. Never have I felt like this at work. So close to the earth and to my own body. I CAN handle walking in the rain. I'm not a cold weeny. Each time I make my way out on one of these mornings, alone or with a friend, there is something new. I push myself in a new way. In that way that you do something you really don't want to do just because you wouldn't like who you are if you took the shortcut.
No other goals to be set today I'm afraid. But these three are so important that I'll review my performance periodically and if I do well, I'll give myself a raise at the end of the performance period. Hhmmm, what would be suitable....
Later, my reviews might include my desire to grow into more of a leadership role. A step by step guide to how I would achieve some of what was needed to arrive at that year's goal. It was wonderful to discuss these in depth with supervisors who were on the same page and had a wealth of experience "growing" their staff. My last supervisor had less experience although the desire to have a highly trained and highly motivated staff was there. Gone were the personal goals and everything else had become operational and functionalized. Make it simple, clear and operational. Accountability is key here - important but distinctly different discussions at the end of the year.
Now that I'm no longer with that organization and am running my own not-for-profit (my family) I realized it's time to go back to my earliest days and delve into what I want for myself. It's one thing to search eagerly for that elusive job as I go from day to day but it's important to know WHO I will be when I grow out of this? What sort of balance will be achieved? Will I be able to take all that I'm learning about myself and apply it to the next stage in my career/life? What will that look like? What is the budget of my life going to look like?
It seems time to set goals. My first goal has already been set for me...search for a job that fits my skills and is reasonable for my family. An incorporation of life, family and work. Some balance rather than putting my family continuously on the back burner as I had always done. I see the phrase: work-life balance in job descriptions fairly frequently now. In the end, it'll come down to what a company's definition of work-life balance is compared to mine. Developing this definition is part of Goal 1.
Secondly, I will learn what it takes to be a good parent without falling into the trap of becoming an overindulgent parent/friend person. Having been alone with my daughter every afternoon for 7 months, I can see how easily parents can fall into this chasm and how some become the opposite. This is a tough one because it involves recognizing that limits on yourself must be placed while you might very well be emotionally crying out for your child. I imagine it's like being bulimic while still needing to eat 3 squares a day. This will be fascinating to look at closely. It is this goal more than any other that will be my challenge while I'm not working and that I will have to remind myself of often. It's the time...there's so much of it without a job to eat up those moments that tick off on the clocks around you.
The final goal that I know must be a part of this process is that I will take time out for me - to take care of me. It's difficult. We all say we're going to do this and then we don't. It's always the first thing that gets blown out of the water once I'm working or volunteering heavily or both. But it's so important. When I don't take time everyday for me, I am different. I'm not the giving, caring, competent person that is me but instead an anxious, crabby version of that gal. My husband sees this and has the patience of a saint. 12 years he's been a rock to my unrested, overextended, version of the me he fell in love with. This is an important goal.
I went for a very long walk with a dear friend several weeks ago. We had her dog and off we walked at quite a clip in the drizzle of this Seattle suburb. It was great! The puffs of steam blowing from our mouths as we pushed forward towards our midpoint - Starbucks. Leg muscles pulsing, feet slamming against cement, pine fragrance everywhere, a vision of brand new skyscrapers in the distance. Finally, with coffees in hand, we sat outside on this wintry morning with droplets making their way down the umbrella covering our table. We shared our stories of the week, stories of trips to come, concerns about rapid changes in our suburban town and reminders of school functions coming up. After making our way back, I walked into my home feeling like a million bucks. Never have I felt like this at work. So close to the earth and to my own body. I CAN handle walking in the rain. I'm not a cold weeny. Each time I make my way out on one of these mornings, alone or with a friend, there is something new. I push myself in a new way. In that way that you do something you really don't want to do just because you wouldn't like who you are if you took the shortcut.
No other goals to be set today I'm afraid. But these three are so important that I'll review my performance periodically and if I do well, I'll give myself a raise at the end of the performance period. Hhmmm, what would be suitable....
Downtime...
Downtime can mean so many things. I loved having time to breathe and sip on a coffee as I sat waiting for a student to show up for a counseling session. Downtime was also that time on a Saturday afternoon when I locked myself into the bathroom to keep both of my kids out so I could just...be..... Needless to say, they have tractor beams that can locate a female parent in record time but somehow fail to identify the male parent - ever!
There is also that very special time when you choose to do something for yourself that doesn't involve hoarding time or avoiding someone you love. This is the downtime I get to experience now. It's that time after I walk my daughter to school and go for a 2 hour walk in the crisp air or even in the faint drizzle because I want to and I want the results. There is no one there to say, "It's raining" in that way that starts the conversation rolling in my head - perhaps I should wait until after lunch to walk or maybe just put it off til tomorrow. No one to stop me from wearing a pink fleece scarf with hearts all over it just because. There is no one to set a limit on this time I will spend freely on myself, on my health, on my spirit. Two hours later, the errands will still be there, the grocery list still demanding to be purchased, the bills to be paid and the toilets cleaned. For now, though, there is only Downtime in suburbia. With a pink heart covered scarf ... or not.
There is also that very special time when you choose to do something for yourself that doesn't involve hoarding time or avoiding someone you love. This is the downtime I get to experience now. It's that time after I walk my daughter to school and go for a 2 hour walk in the crisp air or even in the faint drizzle because I want to and I want the results. There is no one there to say, "It's raining" in that way that starts the conversation rolling in my head - perhaps I should wait until after lunch to walk or maybe just put it off til tomorrow. No one to stop me from wearing a pink fleece scarf with hearts all over it just because. There is no one to set a limit on this time I will spend freely on myself, on my health, on my spirit. Two hours later, the errands will still be there, the grocery list still demanding to be purchased, the bills to be paid and the toilets cleaned. For now, though, there is only Downtime in suburbia. With a pink heart covered scarf ... or not.
Friday, February 12, 2010
From guru to grocery store queen
Most of America has been touched by this recession. We know someone who's lost their job, we've lost our job or we're pinching pennies and smiling brightly so that we DON'T lose our job! Back in June, I found out that half of our non-profit was being cut and my little space in the company was deleted...just like that. A blip. A budget line. Surely a second thought went into it - these are great people after all. Both the cutters and the cut-tees. Money talks though. Without this grant, and that revenue source, there's no way to push forward. So I was tossed back to my home and a life I knew absolutely nothing about. Suburbia.........
After the feelings subside (that's 3 months, right there) and the summer passes, what do all those people DO that are home. When I was bolting out of the house at 6:45am, what did the other folks do that weren't bolting, that weren't screaming at their poor kids to get ready, that weren't chewing on toast and dribbling coffee down their coat? Surely, I'd imagined, they lived a serene friend-filled life that involved spas and brunches and manicures. While I was lucky to get mascara on my weary lashes, they must have had bronzers and blushes and curling irons ready to go. Physical trainers waiting for them at the upscale gym nearby. We're talking about some terrific looking chicks around here!
The inside of my sexy car had always been a wreck, a perfectly organized chaotic disaster. There were the recyclable grocery bags that never got used as they weren't Velcro'd to my wrist, the yoga mat still in its wrapping because I lived in fear of accidently signing up for hot yoga and melting away, and the tools scattered around the trunk should I ever break down - this is the danger of watching too much DIY network - MUST HAVE TOOLS! Friends I'd talk to as I stood next to their SUV, had lovely clean floors with just a hint of Pirate's Booty residue next to the booster seat. Oh, bliss! Those days must have been amazing. How I envied them their gyms and jaunts in the park. The dogs they had time to train, the food they had time to cook, and oh, the shopping trips. Their clothes looked so neat and well picked out for Parent's Night at school. Surely, there was a store I didn't know about. Me time? What was that?
September rolled around and my son went off to college and it was the first day of school for my daughter. She was thrilled to start 4th grade and I was so excited to be able to walk her to school. I'd packed a great lunch - ham and cheese sandwich with a banana, her favorite granola bar, a cheese stick and a juice box. Far superior to the PBJ's tossed in a sac from her past. We walked and talked; her excitement energized us both. A kiss at the door and she was off.
Then it hit me....what happens now? What's the next thing I'm supposed to do? Where's my meeting? My contact list is empty, there is no support staff, and no one is looking for my research or expertise. *&#$@!
After the feelings subside (that's 3 months, right there) and the summer passes, what do all those people DO that are home. When I was bolting out of the house at 6:45am, what did the other folks do that weren't bolting, that weren't screaming at their poor kids to get ready, that weren't chewing on toast and dribbling coffee down their coat? Surely, I'd imagined, they lived a serene friend-filled life that involved spas and brunches and manicures. While I was lucky to get mascara on my weary lashes, they must have had bronzers and blushes and curling irons ready to go. Physical trainers waiting for them at the upscale gym nearby. We're talking about some terrific looking chicks around here!
The inside of my sexy car had always been a wreck, a perfectly organized chaotic disaster. There were the recyclable grocery bags that never got used as they weren't Velcro'd to my wrist, the yoga mat still in its wrapping because I lived in fear of accidently signing up for hot yoga and melting away, and the tools scattered around the trunk should I ever break down - this is the danger of watching too much DIY network - MUST HAVE TOOLS! Friends I'd talk to as I stood next to their SUV, had lovely clean floors with just a hint of Pirate's Booty residue next to the booster seat. Oh, bliss! Those days must have been amazing. How I envied them their gyms and jaunts in the park. The dogs they had time to train, the food they had time to cook, and oh, the shopping trips. Their clothes looked so neat and well picked out for Parent's Night at school. Surely, there was a store I didn't know about. Me time? What was that?
September rolled around and my son went off to college and it was the first day of school for my daughter. She was thrilled to start 4th grade and I was so excited to be able to walk her to school. I'd packed a great lunch - ham and cheese sandwich with a banana, her favorite granola bar, a cheese stick and a juice box. Far superior to the PBJ's tossed in a sac from her past. We walked and talked; her excitement energized us both. A kiss at the door and she was off.
Then it hit me....what happens now? What's the next thing I'm supposed to do? Where's my meeting? My contact list is empty, there is no support staff, and no one is looking for my research or expertise. *&#$@!
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