Skip to main content

My Work Space

I figured it out! I always wondered why am I so incredibly neurotic about my kitchen being clean? When my entire (albeit cute and cozy) house is a disaster I am okay as long as my kitchen is clean. If my kitchen is a mess watch out. Crazy mama up in here.

Ok let me back up a little bit. I have always had a special way to have a space where I spend the most time. As a 3 year old little girl my mother found me lining up my toys in my room and organizing. I always had a clean messenger bag in high school with neatly labeled binders. Wherever I studied in college or graduate school had to start out neat....Fast forward to my first major career. When I got my desk - you could find me purging the old dusty files, getting out the Lysol wipes and making sure the highlighters and pens were put in the right place. Then I got to work. Before I wrote this post I tidied up my desk. So cleaning just may influence my "zen." So what?

I am raising children. All of this work, self control, teaching and patience does not have the same satisfying result at the end of a day as looking at a clean space which was once dirty. Now that's tangible.

I can feel my departed past feminist self cringe as I prepare to type the next sentence. I really do spend a majority of my time in the kitchen. It is my new work space. It is my desk. It is my three year old self's room. When you have a 3 year old boy and 1 year old girl and they are absolutely starving every 2-3 hours the kitchen is unavoidable. Especially since nutrition and budget are important to me. I am in that space either making a meal, cleaning from a meal or somewhere where they have uncontrollably overlapped and I am desperately depending on my dog to help me clutch to whatever sanity remains while I dramatically lower my standards of work space order.

I came to this revelation tonight as I started to feel better when I saw the clean counters and actually cleaned my range. (Hey, I had a rough day). This is my work space. It is important to me to get it prepared for the next work day. I need to start with a clean slate to start my morning off right. When my 1 year old has her first breakfast at 5:30 am it's in a clean kitchen. It might not be so sparkling by their third meal of the day at 10 am but that's ok.

Somehow looking at it like this makes it seem more important to do. As if I am justifying spending time in my kitchen at 8 pm while the kids are sleeping. I'm not drudging doing chores no one else will do. (It is true no one else will do them) But I am cleaning up my desk. My work space. It's all set for my 5:30 am meeting.

I wonder why I feel so embarrassed about this post. Probably because a kitchen feels a much humbler place of work then a desk which could have been. Or maybe it is a place of work where I will make the biggest impact on the smallest of people.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Why I'm not moving to Canada and I hope you don't either

Dear fellow Americans,

Yesterday I woke up singing "sister suffragette" with misty eyes.

 "Cast off the shackles of yesterday
 shoulder to shoulder -
into the fray!"

Not because I love Hillary Clinton. Because of the historical significance that she was even on the ballot. That the idea a woman could run for president won't be a fairy tale to my children. As I sat on the brown corduroy couch in my predictably blue state I watched state after state shock the news as it came up bright red.

Friends, history is alive right now. We are the American people and the generation experiencing this shift in paradigm today. How are we going to respond?

Susan B. Anthony's grave was covered with women's "I voted" stickers yesterday.
 I don't think Susan B. Anthony would leave the country if she was alive today.
Did she leave the country or threaten to when she was arrested for illegal voting?

Did Rosa Parks try to leave the country after she faced Jim Cr…

The Mom Grinch

The other day I was feeling especially grinchy. Standing in the kitchen unloading the dishwasher for the tenth time that day, it dawned on me Christmas is only for children...and men. A feeling of bitterness, exhaustion and pressure crept over me as I crammed another sippy cup into the cupboard. It's up to me - the mom - to pull off Christmas. And since my kids are 2 and 4 - well it had better be magical. I wasn't exactly feeling magical. You know, the whole family, just yesterday were in the throws of the stomach flu and I'm pretty sure our elf, Sandy, brought it from the north pole and infected us all with his obnoxious Christmas germs.

So here I am mad at Christmas, because I've discovered December is a month of the year where moms need to put it in overdrive. The normal day to day doesn't go away. Now, I've got to decorate, move that elf, shop, bake cookies, design, address and mail Christmas cards, see Santa... I began to feel even more rotten. Then I utte…

Dear tired and hurting mamas...

Dear Mamas,


For me this is the Monday morning of spring break. For you it may just be another Monday and you may be completely not affected by school schedules yet. What if this week we had a choice?  A choice to let love be the loudest voice. Ultimately, we are really the ones who decide whether or not we are going to thrive in motherhood rather than merely surviving. It may not seem like that when love is not the loudest voice. When all the other crap weighs us down. When are not only desperately physically and emotionally needed constantly by our children but at the same time are attacked by the negativity of our mind. When we are so physically tired but then are not being kind to ourselves. Comparing ourselves to other moms in a negative way. Thinking other moms are better than us or that we are in adequate. We must try harder. Or how about worrying that something terrible will happen to our children unless we are completely aware and prepared for any situation? Or some of us may …