Lessons in ego, humility and simplification...

Recently I had to change offices, as did my associate director. We moved from the first floor of our building, which is a house converted to office space, to the second floor.

I had been in the old office for 10 years. It was quite spacious, and had recently been painted a lovely color of blue that I picked out. Nantucket Fog to be precise, by Benjamin Moore. It had once been a porch and possibly sunroom of the house. It had pretty high ceilings, lovely windows and a back door that allowed both for easy access as well great cross breezes on a spring or fall day.

The two offices that we moved into are significantly different in size from each other. One was probably the master bedroom of the home back when it was used as a personal home. It is VAST. The second room is connected to it by a door, with a closet in between. The second room is smaller by more than half of the other office, and probably was used as a nursery or other kind of bedroom. There is a bathroom right outside this office.

When considering the needs of our office, and the fact that we were losing an outside space where we kept four large filing cabinets, it made sense that the filing cabinets go into the large office. That meant that whomever had that office would a) be looking at those cabinets all the time and b) would have to tolerate other people coming and going from the office as files were needed and then re-filed. Note: We are moving toward document imaging, SLOWLY, as a campus and someday may not need these cabinets, but for now we hold all 1500 awarded financial aid recipient's files in them.

As the director I got to decide, with my boss's approval of course, where to put whom. I decided that I could not be in the office with the file cabinets. I had spent the last 10 years in a space that was lovely, but I was constantly being interrupted because I was too close to the files, too accessible to the work study students, and the first stop most people made on the first floor when looking for our offices. Plus the small fridge for our office was in my office.

So I decided to take the smaller office, and put the associate director in the big office. I did offer him the option of swapping offices with our other staff member, who has an even smaller office, so he would be more secluded, but he made the choice to be in the big office.

My desk and the accompanying credenza/bookshelf thing was WAY too big to go into what was going to be my new office, so I decided to give it to my associate director. Anyone who is friends with me on FB or follows me on Twitter knows the drama I went through getting my new desk last week. But we are all moved in and settled. And the process of coming to terms with the move was interesting.

I don't like change much. Never have. I found I was sad to leave my old office, and was kind of grieving the loss of it. Add to that the fact that when you walk into my associate director's office, with the grand space and the big furniture, well, he looks like the director.

I will admit my ego struggled with this. My head said this set up is the right one for the use of the space and the needs of the office. I am more secluded, which will afford me more uninterrupted time to get my work done. But there is this weird thing that our society does to us, this thing that says we should have the biggest, best, shiniest, whatever thing it is we are talking about. And my brain went there at first. I found myself thinking "I should be in the big office, with the big furniture, looking important."

Then I slapped myself across the face, figuratively speaking, and said stop being an idiot. It makes sense for us to be set up this way. And you don't NEED the big desk, the big office. You ARE the director. The big office doesn't make you the director. You like the small office and it's cozy space. The big office has better window space for your plants, but you will work it out.

That is the one thing I have had to really come to terms with, the light in the new space. I really loved the light in the old office, and even in the big office. The light in my new space is like what you would expect in a smallish bedroom. But there ARE windows, which is more than some people can say about their offices, and I can open them, which is key.

But all in all I really had to have a talk with myself about what is important, check my ego at the door and be grateful for what I do have, which is a lovely, quiet, green space to spend 8+ hours a day in. It is better than a cubicle, that is FOR SURE. And if people think that my associate director is actually the director, maybe they will stop asking to speak to the director and take his answer as the final answer. I need to be grateful for what I do have, and not worry about status symbols and appearances. Because in the end, none of it really makes a difference.

Just call me Miss Marvel...

In case you missed it the 12000 times I have mentioned it here, I have a 5 year old son. Honestly, most days it STILL takes me by surprise. I wake up, pull on some work out clothes and then BAM remember I am someone's mom. And despite my complete lack of training in this area (OK, I did my share of babysitting, but really, my own mom was only a block away most of the time, so I always had back up) the boy seems to be growing. The Bob has more experience in this area than I, since he managed to grow two other boys to almost adult hood. The funny thing about that is if I ask him something like "What age does XYZ happen?" he will be all "Uuuummmm, dude, I have no idea. Can't remember when that happened."

I added the dude. He never calls me that.

Anyway, I have been reminded recently, because I have this kid in my life, that other kids are mean and I already did all of this growing up myself I don't want to go through it all again but I really DO have to have a discussion about best friends, not leaving other kids out, and why sometimes Charlie doesn't want to do exactly what you are doing. Sigh.

There are times when being this mom person is so AWESOME. Like when I go in to wake him up in the morning and he is all cuddly and warm and I get to kiss his head and snuggle with him for a few minutes before the rocket ship we call life takes off for the next 12 hours. Or when I look in the rear view mirror and he catches my eye, and gives me the ol' wink and says "I LOVE YOU MOMMY."

There are times when it is challenging but in a fun or interesting way. We had to spend time at Children's Hospital recently finding out that Cooper MIGHT have some sort of miniscus blahbittyblahblah thing that makes his knee pop and sometimes dislocates slightly, causing it to lock and cause pain. The short version of the visit is that we wouldn't know for sure if that is the problem without an MRI and well, that involves sedation for a 5 year old. Really? I said to the beautiful Benton Hayworth, sports orthopedic specialist with skin so perfect I questioned if he even has pores or grows a beard, as Cooper walked back and forth in the room discussing super heroes. Sedation to get that kid to lay still for an MRI you say. Shocking. No, we will not be doing that right now. It is not interfering with his life or otherwise causing problems. If it does in the future, we will make a different decision.

But that is not what was challenging. Cooper likes for me to make up stories about super heroes. We had time to kill and the power was running low on my phone, so I made up two stories about the Avengers for him. I was particularly proud of the one, which involved a bad guy I called The Weeper. His power was that he cried, and when he cried he made everyone around him so sad and depressed that all they could do was sit down right where they were and cry. While they were incapacitated by the crying, The Weeper's henchmen would rob them. When the Avengers showed up they all started crying too, which interfered with the whole defeating the bad guys thing. The Hulk cried so much he was creating puddles, Thor had no idea what was happening because he is a god, gods don't cry. Iron Man solved the problem by turning off the sound to his armor so he couldn't hear The Weeper, and then sprayed him with laughing gas, which is the only way to defeat The Weeper.

Cooper was so enamored of this story he immediately began telling the story to Dr. Handsome and the nurse when they came in. And as much fun as it is to create these stories, I find it also a little exhausting. Being creative like that on the spot is HARD man. But maybe if this college administrator gig doesn't pan out I can find a new career writing story lines for Marvel.

Year of the Dragon

Happy 2012, the Year of the Dragon, or as I like to call it, The Year of MidLyfeMama. I am a Wood Dragon in the Chinese horoscope world. There are 12 zodiac signs, and rather than assign one to a month, they assign one to the year of your birth.

Characteristics of a person born in the year of the Dragon include being passionate, opinionated, caring, don't mind taking risks, and while others are drawn to the colorful personality of the Dragon, Dragons tend to like to be alone.

All of which could apply to a lot of people, but I like to pretend that they apply to me ever so specifically. Because I AM SPECIAL.

They break the signs down further into four of the elemental signs, Water, Wood, Metal and Fire. I happen to be a Wood Dragon, which makes me less prickly than other Dragons. We will actually entertain the opinions of others (although if you ask The Bob those opinions are not necessarily USED in any actual manner) and we get along with others really well, but still like to be in charge. Really. I hadn't noticed.

My mother, the great and wise Dee, is also a Dragon, a Metal Dragon to be exact. My poor father and brother just stood no chance whatsoever in our household.

I don't do resolutions. I find that just sets me up for failure. Instead I would like to put hopes out there for the year.

I hope this is a year of financial recovery for The Bob and I.

I hope this is a successful year for the Coop at school - he finishes pre school and begins kindergarten in the fall.

I hope for continued health for all of my family.

I hope for continued emotional well being for all of my family.

I hope to get back to spending quality time with my friends, who I have neglected during the last few years of being a mom among other things.

I hope to lose at least 20lbs. On that point, The Bob got us a Wii for Christmas, and Wii Fit for MLM. The first time you step onto Lady Wii, she evaluates you, mocks you, tells you how out of shape you are and asks you for your fitness goals. She also tells you your "Wii Age" which is based on you having performed some of the evaluation exercises. The first day I used it, my Wii age was 40, which is 7 years younger than I am. Excellent. I have great balance (thank you yoga classes) but I definitely need to lose weight.

The second day I got on it, roughly at the same time of day as the day before, and it told me I had GAINED 5lbs. What the WHAT. I hadn't even gone NEAR the Christmas cookies. But! After performing the body evaluation again, after working out on it for 40 minutes, Lady Wii told me I was in great condition and my Wii age was 31. YAZTEE! I gained weight but lost years. At this rate I will be the youngest, fittest fat person you ever met.

I will not be deterred. I will get back on that Wii, and I will continue to work out on the treadmill and work toward my goal of losing 20lbs. I will also roll the shaggy rug back before using it, because I think it confounds Lady Wii's ability to register my movements and possibly contributed to my 5lb "weight gain."

Finally, I hope for all of you a happy, healthy, and successful however you measure that 2012.

Grab 'em, hold 'em and tell them you love them...

Yesterday our little college community found out we had suffered another loss. A student, close to graduation has died. His parents will now move through this holiday season without their child.

Several people I know are recently separated or divorced after decades of being married. The families are moving through this holiday season trying to figure out a new definition of "family" and looking for peace and blessings to fill the spaces left by these changes.

On Facebook I heard of a friend of a friend whose 5 year old son is dying from an incurable disease. The family is hoping to have one more Christmas with their precious boy.

And just like that my week long cold/coughing spell seems utterly inconsequential. A minor inconvenience. If ever there were a time of year to remember our blessings, to grab those we hold dear, who are the joy and heart of our lives, and tell them we love them, it is RIGHT.NOW.

To my mother, father, brother and his family, to Bob, Cooper and all my friends, thank you for being in my life and I love you all.

The One in Which I Defend "Lying" to My Kid...

It has come to my attention recently, on places like Babble Voices and some other blogs, or on Facebook, that some people think it is a bad thing, a scarring and horrible crime against humanity to encourage your child to believe in Santa.

What horrible, terrible, very bad, no good thing happened to these people in their childhood? Childhoods? Whatever...what exactly went wrong one day for them that the joy, the mystery, the HAPPINESS that is embodied by that jolly man in a red suit with his eight tiny reindeer lost it's jingle jangle jazz?

I have a newly minted 5 year old son. We did not go to visit the mall Santa his first Christmas on this earth as he was one month old and a preemie. I was sure he would contract ebola if we went near the mall that first month. I might have been functioning under the irrational influence of mommy hormones and the drugs they gave me during the delivery to keep me from dying. But every year since, we have been to see our Santa. It has been the same Santa every year. And he is a good Santa. He is not scary, he does not smell. (I would know too. I have the nose of a blood hound.) He is kind and gentle and has a soft Kentucky accent. There was only one year, when Cooper was 3, that Cooper screamed bloody murder, and that was not because of Santa. It was bad timing on our part and a long line. When it came time to get Cooper to sit with him, I said "I don't know how this is going to go" and Santa said "Bring it."

Cooper loves the whole concept of Santa. The kid is a born consumer. But he GETS it. He understands the magic around the holiday, the suspense, the spirit of both giving and receiving. We watch almost every holiday special there is, so he has seen many differing messages about how Santa gets around, how the whole sleigh and sack of toys thing might work. He is savvy enough to question the logic behind it all, but still believes it is all possible. Because it is MAGIC.

We have had the chance to talk about the Santa legend what his backstory is, how Santa came to be the dude we know today. This year I purposefully included Cooper in the process of selecting things to buy to give to a charity, and in what to buy through Heifer Internationalso he understands that there are people in this world who don't have much, if anything, and don't get presents like he does. That it is important to give.

I don't consider it LYING when we celebrate the holiday and encourage him to believe in Santa. Because it isn't about whether Santa really exists. It is about embracing, reveling in, the magic of the season. To believe in joy, wonder and at least this year, use the Advent calendar as a way to reinforce learning our numbers and counting to 25. So hands off the mystery all you Scrooges. This gal believes in Santa and her kid will too for as long as he is willing.

I don't like change...

I am not generally a fan of change. Even good change. It is, well, CHANGE. Ask my parents. Moving from one home to another was always devastating for me as a kid. Even though the new house was sometimes bigger, newer, in a better school system (like I noticed that kind of thing THEN).

You see, I nest. I like my THINGS. My bits and bobs and doodads. When I was pregnant, (which, in case you are not aware, is like the MOTHERLOAD of change, no pun intended,) in a fit of prenatal nesting/cleaning I "decluttered" the house, thinking I needed to protect this little bit of a person who would not be crawling much less walking for 9 months, from the more dangerous breakable, chokable items. I put some of the "precious" mementos away, and 5 years later still live without them. Some have been sold at the annual yard sale, some are still just put away in the attic.

But the point of this is about change. I have been in my current office for almost 10 years. When I first started at this job my office was on the second floor of this house which is an office building. About a year later I and my assistant director relocated to the first floor. I got a newly constructed office space that had previously been a room with pink carpet and two large copiers in it. It has LOTS of light and a back door through which I come and go and is also useful for getting a great cross breeze on lovely days.

This is the door, and one huge window.

As you can see from these pictures, there is great light, and I have a lot of plants. I can't help it. Wherever I go, I grow plants. My dining room is like a botantical garden right now because I have moved some plants inside for the winter which live out on our deck during the summer and fall.

Anyway, I love this office. And in a few weeks I have to move to a different office, back on the second floor. It is a nice enough office, the one upstairs. It is not a lovely shade of blue, Nantucket Fog by Benjamin Moore to be precise, but it is a nice shade of pale green. But I will miss this office and all its lovely light. And cross breezes. The one upstairs has windows, but the ceiling is not as high as in this one, so they are not as big, and the cross breeze won't be there.

There are positives to being in the new office. Where I am now is very accessible to everyone coming into the building whether they are here to see me or not. So I get to be the building receptionist a lot. The copier/printer for the building is right outside of my office. This means I have become the go to person for any paper jam or other technical malfunction of said machine. I won't miss being a very well paid administrative assistant, is what I am saying. Also my current office is always 10 degrees colder than the rest of the building. Since this was once a house, I am in what was probably a pantry with a porch. Half of my office sits over open space, on stilts. It is not very well insulated. In February I have the space heater running all the time and there is a distinct breeze blowing in from the back wall. The new office will not have the heat problem, and is in a location that will not be the first stop for people seeking the financial aid office, or any office for that matter. So I will be able to get more done without as many interruptions.

The one creature that may have the hardest time adjusting to this change is Caper, my boss's dog. She comes to work every day, and every day upon entering the building she comes bounding into my office, looking for love and treat. Mostly a treat. After the move she will be bounding into the office of our director for institutional research. She will have to be reprogrammed to come upstairs. I hope she does, or else I will have to leave a supply of treats with the new office resident. She also hangs out with me when her mother leaves the building, which means she will have to come upstairs in the future. If there was a creature whose habits were more ingrained than mine, it would be Caper. This is going to be hard on us all.

Caper under my desk today...

My life in instagram moments...

Life has been CA-RAZY and busy and while I noodle around reading other people's posts and facebook and twitter, I spend most of my time recording my life in pictures with my iPhone, then posting them on Instagram. Here is my life recently...

Cooper has a best friend at school, who came over for a play date today. Poptarts, Rudolph on TV, best friend, what more can you ask for.

At the park...

Cooper helping put up the tree.

Me, getting a much needed refresh on the highlights.

Cooper as Ironman, relaxing before bed.

I spent some time recently taking pictures in a local graveyard. I find them beautiful and fascinating in the fall and winter. I hope to get more once it snows around here.

Things are going to slow down around here, I hope for the next few weeks, and we are not traveling for the holidays, so I hope to catch up on some things. I am also turning over in my head a plan, something that I have wanted to do for a long time, that would not replace what I do full time professionally, but could add some fun and joy to it if I can make it work. So I hope to spend some time trying to work out a concrete plan. I may ask the internets for advice in the near future too. Stay tooned!