If I’m too quiet at home, my son will check in and ask “Mummy, are you ok?”  (Peppa Pig is big in our house). I’ll answer with a short “Yep, I’m good.” followed by a big squeeze. I’ve become quite spoiled by my little man making sure I’m happy.

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This scene turns a bit sour however, if my mom is visiting. She’ll usually answer with:  ”No, she’s not ok. Your mom is definitely not normal!“. 

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Our tap dance then begins where she’ll lecture me on the life I lead. The one where I take on projects that have me travel to our Boston and Toronto offices. She’ll remind me of the weekend in Paris I took for a girlfriend getaway or how I drive too fast (maybe a half truth). I won’t mention London or my plans to hop the pond permanently one day.

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Generally, I  don’t really swallow judgement calls. But I will say this:

Our moms get credit for all they juggled as homemakers, but when it comes to our working mama lives, they haven’t a clue.

I’m a product of a Sicilian family raised in Brooklyn, New York. Mama spent her life devoted to one thing – the famiglia.  I get that raising my brothers was no easy feat – one a musician, the other a dabbler in all life had to offer. They were good bad boys. Yet today, I’ve somehow been branded the oddity. My family is  a supportive bunch but generally speaking, they don’t really get me. A typical welcome from my brothers will be: “So what are we blogging about today sis?” followed by snickers. (I believe they secretly await the call to corrupt me one day.)  .

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The deal is, if you’ve signed yourself up as a working mother, you either coast until you expire in this fragile economy or you step up and really make a go of it. I’ve spent almost two decades doing the work that I do. Travel and yes a satisfying social life come along for the ride. Everyone loves perks. If one tapped into the underground network of mommy guilt, you will find the break away from the home truly keeps us sane and hence makes for better mothers. It’s not just about the money.  One day my son will learn that in fact I’m very much the norm in this century and that (per big brother teasers) I’m quite a gem really.

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I leave you with a snippet from a book just scribed by UK writer Gaby Hinsliff. “..about the future of work and the massive changes in family life that are coming together now in one big bang.”

“Half a Wife: The Working Family’s Guide to Getting a Life Back”.

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“The impact of the so-called “second shift” done by women on top of work is a marital risk factor most couples go to the altar knowing little about. Young women prone to swooning that their boyfriend will be “a really great father” because he likes small children should learn to check instead how often he stacks the dishwasher, perhaps a better indicator of a man ready to share the routine daily work involved in family life.”

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Well said Gabs. Wish you’d released nine years ago, before I myself headed to the altar. You may very well lower the divorce rate around here. Wishing you much success with its release!

Next up: The “elevator pitch” and “your 2 minute commercial”. More to come….

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Definition: [sis · ter] – noun

 

1. a female friend or protector with whom you share kinship
2. a best friend for a lifetime
3. she whom you are in most competition with
4. the beloved groundbreaker who paves the way for younger females
5. the pseudo mom
6. the evil twin
7. the good twin
8. begotten by marriage and hence a “step” apart from you
9. the other half

 

Do any of these fit the bill or do you have your own definition in mind which makes for a more precise representation of sister spirit? This is a relationship with too much history to not make the time to scribe on.  

 

My older sister, who has survived many life spin cycles which should have hollowed her soul by now, has somehow always managed to sketch a roadmap for me when I’ve lost my way; this I might add should be raised as a marvel feat. I, who have always been the grounded and anally driven one who leaps two hops ahead of any task in order to calculate the entire commitment time before taking on the next mission on her to-do achievement list. Yet, when dealing with some of life’s curveballs, I have found myself sinking in situations which my intellect finds no formula on how to handle.

 

Then, in strolls my sister after the sibling antennas have been magically signaled, laying down the law of the land with some straight forward advice that leaves me scratching my head as to why I didn’t think of it first.

 

 

 

When I discovered I had hypoglycemia I imbibed every book on how to lower my glycemic index and maintain a healthy diet, yet for some reason I would still feel light headed at times. After finally passing out on a NYC subway platform, Sista Salvation slaps a pack of glucose tablets in my hand and asks: “Did ya wisdom books ever mention that you should keep a stash of sugar in your purse to treat episodes of dizziness?”

 

I can’t say why I spin my wheels to solve problems which scream of simple solutions and yet am able to inspire others to take on life with authentic direction sans any barriers.

 
We don’t always need to understand why we do the things we do, we just need to know it and recognize when we’re out of out character. They say half of any battle is identifying whatever is troubling us.

 

If you’re lucky to have a sister, don’t resent her judgement calls, she’ll keep you honest by holding up the mirror.