Leading Mama

My Year in Review

Another year is coming to an end, and the Washington Post Magazine headline reads "The Year in Review." In the article, Dave Barry laughs at 2008 -- from gas prices (which are only funny because the economy was in better shape when we couldn't afford gas), to OJ Simpson and Joe the Plumber. For me, this means it’s time to take stock of what I did (and didn't do) this year. Perhaps my list of experiences will bring to mind your own fond memories. I hope so!

 

* Took my toddler on 16 airplane flights – and only spilled one airline cup of apple juice

* Witnessed my son’s first steps, first word, first birthday and first haircut

* Reunited with my husband after his 15-month "work-related trip" to Afghanistan – whew!

* Lived (with my husband, toddler, and decrepit collie) like squatters in my mother’s upstairs bedroom for a period of nearly 3 months – and no one came to blows

* Took a two-week no-work-allowed vacation to Zihuatanejo, Mexico – longest vacation of my life and worth every penny

* Endured hideous stomach flu and frequent projectile vomiting in an Orange County hotel room – after 3 days cooped up with a puking toddler, I got the bug myself (ugh)

* Trekked across country with carload of household items, three people and the family dog to our current home in Alexandria, VA

* Lived in a very small hotel room for two weeks while cat pee abatement took place in home-to-be – rented sight unseen through the wonders of Craigslist (Note to self: you can’t smell cat pee through the Internet)

* Became a freelance writer, thanks to the inspiration of Christina Katz’ book The Writer Mama, her blog, an online class, and my own hard work (and tears)

* Launched the LeadingMama Blog, and kept at it even when laundry piled up and the vacuum needed running

* Published articles in 17 regional parenting magazines

* Sold articles for publication in 2009 to 15 additional publications, including two national consumer magazines and four magazines abroad (Malaysia, Singapore, United Kingdom, and Canada)

* Signed contracts for two additional articles with a national trade publication

* Joined a new group of moms for camaraderie and learned (again) that we all want the best for our kids and we could all use a little boost now and then

* Enjoyed countless library sing-alongs, play groups, park days, zoos and aquariums, and Smithsonian museums

* Cleaned the sand out of my son’s diaper after his first fantastic swim in the Pacific

* Cleaned the sand out of his mouth after his first sandbox adventure in the back yard

* Voted for a presidential candidate who WON (damn, it feels like it's been a long time since THAT happened for me!)

* Cooked Afghan food for an Afghan dinner guest (gutsy but successful attempt)

* Learned to make tortillas (both corn and flour) from scratch

* Checked out so many library books I reached the 40-books-at-a-time limit on several occasions!

* Baked Christmas cookies with my son, who suggested we roll the dough into snakes (Hisssssssssss) because that’s what we do with his Playdoh

 

 

It's been a busy year, and 2009 will be busier still. In the last precious days of 2008, I’ll dream and plan the adventures that lie ahead. Oooh, what fun!

The Care and Feeding of Stress Puppies

Last week I put aside what I had planned in order to write an article that was commissioned 6 days before deadline by a magazine I queried in early November. Six days is not enough days, mind you – especially when the article requires interviews with famously busy experts on the topic and it’s find-a-$10-gift-for-the-holiday-office-party week. 

 

Perhaps Santa likes irony. The article whose words and phrases chased my dreams away and left me stressed out and crazy was titled “How to Turn Off Your Brain and Get the Sleep You Need.” I spent the week reading about relaxation, interviewing experts on stress, and obsessing over things I didn’t know and couldn’t control. And those obsessions took root, sprouted, and grew as the week went on. 

 

Stress is the gift that keeps on taking. It steals your concentration, ruins your sleep, poisons your attitude. I found myself mentally writing and re-writing inane sentences at 3 a.m. when all I wanted was some rest. The churning, roiling lump of anxiety inside spun off little stresslets all week long. Stresslet is my pet name for the what-ifs that get you in their grasp and won’t let go no matter how small or how irrational. With a little care and feeding, those little stresslets grow in to big, hairy monsters, you know. 

 

Four days since the deadline, I think I’m finally wrestling free. What brought me back to some semblance of sanity? Christmas letters from good friends, time with my family, and a big dose of gratitude for all the good things in my life. If the stresslets in your life are growing like Saint Bernard puppies, get some perspective. Call a friend and take time to catch up. Order your café mocha in a ceramic mug, and dunk a biscotti. Buy and give a gift through the charity organization you admire (Salvation Army, Toys for Tots, etc.). When you step away, you’ll see that stresslets are kind of cute when they’re small. Really.

I'm More Than My One-Sentence Bio

Each time I write a query or send an article to print, I have to write a bio to accompany my work. Typically brief, they never seem to really capture all the ground I feel I've covered in 39 years.

 

People evolve. As we grow, we collect social identities. Over time they become personal. My becoming unfolded like this.

 

As an infant, my parents called me the cross-eyed wonder. I’ve known this since childhood and it made me believe they loved even my imperfections. Of course, crossed eyes don’t last forever. When I didn’t cut a single tooth by my first birthday, they renamed me the toothless wonder.

 

My first word was cookie. I was (and am) a lover baked goods, and I’m an award-winning baker. In 4^th grade, I won a school cake decorating contest. Last year, my 6-layer chocolate hazelnut cake brought $110 in the Little League dessert auction. I’ve also made birthday cakes for my niece (swimming pool, complete with teddy bear sunbathers) and nephew (skateboard with chocolate donut wheels). Any occasion is a reason for baking.

 

I earned my B.A. and M.A. in Psychology at Fresno State where I was an undergraduate workaholic, completing my B.A. in only 3 years. The only “B” I earned was in Women’s Studies, and I slept through a lot of it. When I went to the University of Illinois to get my doctorate in 1992, I became the deserter.

My family (well, my mother at least) thought I’d earn my degree and come home. What they (and I) hadn’t realized is advanced education makes you a specialist in a niche so tiny only a handful of people understand your work and want to hire you. I’m a personality psychologist. That means I study traits and beliefs that make each person unique (and interesting).

 

Dr. Smith – yep, that’s me – taught college from 1997 to 2007 at several schools from Hobart and William Smith Colleges in Geneva, NY to Weber State University in Ogden, Utah. I met my husband in the midst of the US Air Force Academy’s sexual assault scandal. We were both on the faculty and in the eye of the political storm. I became Dr. Mrs. Luedtke when we married. Hubby has deployed three times in four years and currently works at the 5-sided military headquarters here in DC. 

 

My son was born in March, 2007 and so was I (again). Becoming a mom is intense, sweet and exhausting. Each time I think I have mothering figured out, a new challenge rises up to meet me. I know you know what I mean.

These days, I work mostly as a mom. I'm also a freelance writer (at naptime or whenever else I get the opportunity!) I write about personality and people skills for parents and business managers. I blog about parenting and leadership. I look for opportunities to learn new things and share them with others. I am, and always will be, a teacher at heart. 

 

Somehow these things never make it into my one-sentence bio.

Oh, Say Can't You See?

I was driving home from the commissary yesterday when a radio commercial sponsored by the American Automobile Association came on. In the ad, a spokesperson for AAA informed listeners that the use of hands-free cell phone devices while driving is no safer than using hand-held cell phones. The reason, he said, is people are likely to get so deeply engaged in their phone conversation that they literally do not see what it right in front of their eyes. Perception researchers call this “seeing without seeing” inattention blindness. 

 

I got to thinking that inattention blindness doesn’t just happen behind the wheel, and it doesn’t just happen when we’re gabbing on our cell phones. Much of the imbalance in modern living is the result of inattention blindness on a much bigger scale.

 

Each of us performs a number of roles on a daily basis. I, for example, am a wife, a mother, a pet owner and caretaker, a freelance writer, a business owner, a friend and confidant, a mom’s club member and book group coordinator, an athlete, a thinker, a housekeeper, a sister, a daughter, a military spouse, a chef, a chauffeur, a hostess, Santa’s helper…I’m sure there are more, but you get the idea. Some of our roles are defined by our personal interests, some by our relationships with others, some by our professional work or the tasks we do. 

 

Inattention blindness and a sense of unhealthy imbalance happen because some roles are more absorbing than others. When a cranky toddler with a stinky diaper and a runny nose holds my attention, I miss the gotta-go-outside signals and end up with dog pee on the floor. When a looming deadline or muddled story idea absorbs my energies, I forget to ask my husband about his day and don’t notice or acknowledge the kind things he does to support me. He feels neglected and underappreciated even if he doesn’t pee on the floor to get my attention. (Thank goodness!) 

 

If you’re feeling out of control and off balance, stop and look for the blind spots in your life. Your intense focus on the most pressing issues has likely blinded you to other important joys and concerns. Take it all in. You may be surprised when you see what you’re missing. I was.