Well, Duh . . .

Eureka. Apparently scientific study has confirmed something that seems relatively obvious to me: the secret to happy marriage is for husbands to listen to their wives.

This article, discussing a study published in The Journal of Marriage and the Family, explains that the study revealed that "successful marriages have far more to do with husbands yielding to the influences of their wives" than the sorts of active listening techniques that marriage counselors normally advocate. (You know the type: "Yes, sweetie, I understand. You're unhappy that I didn't pick up my dirty socks before bed. Can we discuss this and talk it through?")

What's your secret to happy marriage?

Truly an Urban Mommy Now

I've returned to work. Not full time, and not in the office, but I'm officially working. I've really been working since I got home, as I've been responding to work emails all along, but as of last Friday, it was official. A messenger came to my house to deliver a box of work for me to do, and the same day a package arrived in the mail with a different set of stuff to complete.

So now the guilt starts. Despite the fact that I am working from home so I can be home with him longer, I feel guilty for doing work while I'm home with my kid. Despite the fact that my husband goes off to work every day and loves being with his child, I feel guilty handing my son to my husband so I can get some work done. And worst of all, despite the fact that I have always like my job, and that I believe that Baby Banana will be much better off having a Mommy with outside interests, I fell horribly guilty that I am so happy to be working again.

It's really nice to be doing something with my brain again - it was starting to atrophy from simply nursing, changing diapers and watching TV. Of course, the work has started just as Baby Banana is starting to be more interactive. I only work when he's sleeping or with Mr. Banana, but still...I know none of this guilt is rational, but it's there. I was never cut out to be a stay-at-home mom - much as I admire them, it's not how I was built - but I never thought I'd feel this guilty about even this small amount of work. Going back to work full time should be interesting.

In more upbeat news I visited Baby Banana's future day care center today. Mr. Banana and I chose it without visiting because (a) they're really the only game in town for full-day non-in-home daycare for kids under age 2, (b) we have several friends whose kids have been through or are in there and have nothing but good things to say, (c) they're the only real Jewish daycare option near us, and (d) they get rave reviews from every source of day care reviews (the fact that we were 41st on the waitlist for a program with 12 spots tells you something). I had to go drop off a check today and took a quick peek into the room he'll be in and loved it. The caregivers all came over to say hi and oohed and aahed over Baby Banana, all the kids looked happy, and the room was bright and cheerful. I'm quite pleased we managed to get him in.

My kid is now six weeks old. That isn't very old - when I say it, I laugh at how short a period of time ix weeks is. And yet I can't remember very well what life was like without him. Very odd.

Reunited and It Feels So . . . TBD

My high school reunion is coming up in a few months. Ordinarily, this would not be a topic worthy of much discussion: I'd go, have some laughs, and come home -- end of story for another five years. But this one is a little different. You see, the organizers have put together a website with a message board, which has proven to be extremely popular. So essentially, we're having an online reunion for several months before we all actually congregate at the alcohol-infused venue of the organizers' choosing.

This chat board is basically a petri dish of human relationships. A guy who was a mostly unknown dork in high school -- but very bright and witty among the people who bothered to pay any attention to him -- has been the big hit of the last few weeks. He's been blowing everyone away with his humor and his trenchant observations -- to the extent that more than a few of the women who were the ditzy and hyperpopular girls in high school are falling all over themselves with enthusiasm for meeting him at the reunion. (I always thought he was a bit of a misunderstood diamond-in-the-rough, so I'm all in favor of his getting a little love from the ladies.)

As for me: I like to think of myself as a pretty well-rounded and socially ept person, and I think my friends think of me the same way (Friends, feel free to confirm or deny). It's clear to me from reading people's posts on the reunion board that I'm remembered primarily as that really smart girl who was voted most likely to succeed. I haven't thought of myself that way in a really long time -- ever since high school, I've been surrounded by other really smart people and thus my baseline has shifted. But to the folks who knew me when we were all students at a big suburban public high school, I'm that girl who went to the college where only really smart people go. Nothing wrong with intelligence, and it's certainly better to be remembered as smart rather than idiotic, but I do get the sense that a lot of people are expecting me to show up and report that I have accomplished great things with this large brain of mine.

Which leads to the existential question of the night: have I accomplished great things? Maybe, maybe not, but certainly not in a way that would lead the members of my high school class to say "Wow, yeah, she's done what we thought she would." The thing that niggles a bit is this: reading over other people's descriptions of what they're doing makes it clear that a lot of people figured out what they wanted to do, did it, and are now solidly ensconced at senior levels of whatever that thing might be. Law firm partners, experienced social workers, surgeons at research hospitals, stay-at-home-mothers of four, partners at private equity firms . . . so far I haven't seen so many of the career changers. Not so many of the people who have just started new jobs in an attempt to get their careers and home lives balanced in an acceptable manner. And that bothers me a bit.

Not being one to slam myself for any extended period of time, I will note that I've had a series of impressive jobs, each one a highly sought-after position with a widely respected organization. And while I'm pretty darned sure that if I'd remained a lawyer, I'd be a partner right now, you can bet that I'd be sitting here reading the reunion chat board (from work, no doubt, instead of from my living room) feeling wistful about the people who'd had the guts to take a flyer on something new and interesting. Other people's grass being greener and all that.

I will undoubtedly have more thoughts on this whole reunion thing as the day draws nigh. But for now I will just add one other thought. Mentally running through my list of classmates, I can't think of anyone else who I'd categorize as an Urban Mommy. And that is an accomplishment worthy of note, as we are a rare and honorable breed!

Getting Acclimated

I know I've been a little MIA lately, but I recently started my new job and thus have been a little distracted. It's been a number of years since I was the new kid on the block -- I'd kind of forgotten what it feels like!

My various intrafirm moves at my Prior Employer were a lot different than this move: none of the groups I worked in were anywhere near as closeknit and team-oriented as the group I've just joined. It's a small organization, and everyone knows each other very well, so I'm working on getting used to everything -- not just the job itself, but also the vibe of the place.

Perfect example: a few days ago, a bunch of us went to go grab lunch. We ended up at a food-court-type-place, and everyone split up to get whatever they wanted. After I got my food, I didn't see anyone else, so I walked back to the office, sat down at my desk, and opened up my lunch. A few minutes later, everyone else came back to the office and said "Oh, Felicity, we were waiting for you!" "Oh, you were? Sorry, I didn't know." I turned back to my customary lunchtime blogsurfing and lunch-munching. The next thing I know, everyone has piled into a conference room to eat lunch together. I didn't even notice until someone called my name to come join them. After several years of eating at my desk, it never crossed my mind that everyone would actually eat together!

I'm going into the office earlier than I did at Prior Employer, so haven't seen the Metropolitoddler as much as I'd like, but this will ultimately be solved by waking her up ten or fifteen minutes before I leave so that we can hang out a bit before I head out the door. I feel a little guilty about waking her up, but better that she take a longer nap when there's no parents around than miss out on seeing Mommy in the morning, right?

All in all: so far so good.

My Incredible Shrinking World

Yup, I'm a Mommy!

I have to start this post by saying that my son is amazing - despite the fact that he doesn't know who I am, doesn't react to me as an individual at all, doesn't provide any positive reinforcement whatsover, I love him immensely already. I can't believe we have a kid, and that we get to keep him.

But I'm coming to terms with the fact that I've been right about myself all along. I am NOT stay-at-home-Mom material. It's been three weeks, and I'm already going a little nuts. It's winter, I had a C-section, and those two things make it difficult to leave the house on my own. I'm breastfeeding Baby Banana every two hours during the day, tripling the difficulty of leaving. My world these days has shrunk down to my living room couch, where I sit most of the day holding, nursing, and talking to Baby Banana, and watching old TV shows on DVD. Most days, it's just the two of us - Mr. Banana is back at work, so unless a friend comes over, it's just us.

There's a part of this that's nice. I love having him sleep on my chest in the afternoons (even when my butt falls asleep from being in the same position for hours), I love that I can make him stop crying, and I love that Mr. Banana is so excited to see both of us at the end of the day. And Mr. Banana has been an incredible partner in all of this - he calls me at home during the day to check in, he takes Baby B in the evenings and overnight so I can get some rest, and he's an incredible Daddy.

But I'm tired, and I'm sort of bored, and I'm lonely. This is much, much harder than anyone ever told me, and so far, the rewards are pretty amorphous. I don't feel as though I'm building a relationship with my kid (even though I know I am). No smiles yet, no giggles, no playtime, nothing that makes parenting fun. I read and sing to him every day, but he certainly doesn't react yet. Mostly, to him, I'm just a source of food.

My friends tell me that this all gets better, and that by the time my maternity leave is over, I'll be miserable leaving him. In my heart of hearts, I know it's true. But I find myself very jealous of Mr. Banana going off to work every day, and I look forward to starting to do some work from home in a little while just to keep my brain active. In the meantime, I'm just waiting for my son to smile at me.