London and my Mom

So... I'm just back from London, likely a bit jet-lagged, hence my late night propensity for blogging... First, today, I realized that I'm never going to be disciplined enough to be a regular blogger, but, I also realized that someday, I'd like to show my daughter these blogs, and that was reason to continue on, despite my inability to blog even close to "regularly".

On to London. I had a fantastic time while there. I was of course, there for work, and that part went great. I had my first corporate speaking engagement, which resulted in both a job offer from a competitor, and interest from potential clients, which my boss overheard, so career-wise, the trip was a complete success. On a personal level, this being my first trip to London, I absolutely loved it. The people were friendly, gracious, and helpful. The history and architecture were so astounding and overwhelming, there were honestly moments where I was speechless. However, the overarching theme of my trip was "wow, I really think my daughter needs to live here for a while." I have never doubted the love I feel for my daughter - in fact, I often find myself in shock just how much I've completely given my life over to hers. It's never "what's going to be the best for my future?" any longer, now my entire life honestly revolves around "what's going to be the best for my daughter?" Just as my parents felt for me. In fact, my year living in NYC is commonly refereed to as "Grad School" in my family, as my parents financed most of the year's adventures.

I had some "thinking time" on the flight from JFK (I had a connection, and I honestly slept the entire flight from LHR to JFK), and I again was drawn back to the reverence I feel about my mom these days. Here was a woman who quite literally got up every day at quarter to four, just so she could be off work in time to pick me up from school. My parents, who never missed a dace recital, or a piano recital, or a sporting event, but it was my mom who also made sure that I had a clean uniform (for both school and sports), the perfect costume, that our house was clean, that dinner was cooked and on the table, and all the while, the woman was busy building airplanes from 9-5. Really made me think about the fact that I can barely keep my house clean with the help of a housekeeper and a full time nanny (who, I believe I've mentioned before, is my mom). Don't get me wrong - my father was the big-shot executive who I've desperately attempted to model my career after, and who has received many a phone call when I've been faced with a business or corporate situation that requires far more experience than I possess, and it's my dad who's bailed me out of more "dad, I'm so sorry, I had no idea my Bloomingdale's card had gotten so high" situations, and I owe the man everything about my golf game. But, the fact is, when it comes to keeping our house in line, my dad and I would agree, we owe it all to mom.

Bottom line I guess (and honestly not where I thought this blog was going), is that I realized this week, more than ever, is I am a successful, motivated, working mom, my husband and my daughter love me, and frankly, couldn't live without me. But... that fact pales in comparison to the fact that I was raised by Super Woman. I have big shoes to fill, and while I'm trying to get closer every day, I know that if I'm lucky, I will get close, but I'll never surpass my mom.

2.5 years later?

So... the whole "blog" idea never really took off. Funny how a newborn, who becomes a baby, who becomes a toddler, can suck up so much of your free time. What's transpired in the last 30 months? Well, a lot, and then again, not much at all...

I have a beautiful, intelligent, funny, charming 2.5 year old best friend, I still work in corporate marketing, and my husband is still running a fairly successful business. We have 3 dogs (my angel Lilly passed away in February of this year, but that's a post for a different day...), Charlie, Bobo and Daisy Duke. 330 lbs of dog in our tiny little house, combine that with my husband and myself, and your have a lot of weight pushed around by a 35 lb toddler.

Speaking of my darling little girl - I have to say, the most amazing occurrence of my 29+ years, is my all-out love for this tiny little bundle of crazy. Don't get me wrong, I love my husband dearly, my family means the world to me, and I treat my girlfriends like sisters, but none of that compares to the tiny little person who has completely consumed my life. She's by far the funniest person I've ever met, as stubborn as people have always claimed I am, and just about the most beautiful human being on the planet. I know I sound like any other suburban housewife, but trust me, this kid is going places. Big places.

Tonight, I type this re-visit to my little blog from a hotel room in LA. I'm sure that there a several quite fabulous people staying under my same roof, but tonight, I was quite content to stay in my room, have a glass of wine, and catch up on the summer movie schedule I'd missed. And now, I sit typing at nearly midnight, because Suzy-Independent can't sleep without her little girl and zoo on location.

I still travel the world, I still get to feel like an important business-contributor from 9-5, but 2.5 years since my last little diatribe, I feel decades more grown-up, and ready to tell a story that may actually be worth hearing.

Sexism and a waste of a tree

My fiance read Men are from Mars Women are from Venus. He is not an exceptionally sensitive guy, so the fact that he went out completely on his own, bought and actually read a self help book about relationships absolutely blew me away. He called a couple of days ago from a business trip incredibly excited about the book and couldn't wait for me to read it. Never having been big into the whole self help thing, I was very interested to see what on earth had him so excited.

I read the book very quickly once I downloaded it to my computer (I'm one of those techy dorks who does things like that), not because I was engrossed in the wonder of what this man had to say, but because I had never before read so many pages of disgusting chauvinist, misogynist diatribe. By the time I closed the back cover I was disgusted! I could not believe that this book had become so popular with anyone who had lived in a first world country post 1950. What further outraged me was the fact that my fiance thought it was the greatest thing he'd ever read. Could it be that all this time I had never noticed that the guy on the left side of the bed was a sexist pig?

Now before you go thinking that I'm some Gloria Steinem wanna-be, trust me, I'm no feminist. Yes, I work in corporate America, yes, I believe that women can do anything men can do, but I also believe that the grocery shopping and the dinner-cooking are my responsibilities in the house, and when I blow a fuse, I send my fiance to the spider-web covered fuse box in the garage. So basically, for this book to offend me was no easy task.

I asked some of the women in my office if they were familiar, and everyone, yes every single one of them told me what utter crap they thought the book was. Then I went to his web page and found an article about how horrible it is for relationships if a woman starts making more money than her partner. The list goes on.

So, there's my first real blog, I'm not usually in such a bad mood, but that book was garbage, and I had to state my piece.

Blogging? Really?

So, I never thought I would have a blog. I also never thought that I would work with computers for a living, or be pregnant without a husband, or wind up settling down 5 miles from where I grew up.



I guess first I should tell you a little bit about me, don't get too excited here (not that there's any reason why you, a complete stranger, would be excited to learn about my life...), I'm way too concerned with members of my family/friends/coworkers finding this and figuring out that it's me to tell you anything too personal. Anyhow, here goes with the not-too-personal, yet still trying to keep you interested, story of me.



I live in a small town, I grew up in that same small town (no, John Mellencamp did not live there), I have a lot of the same friends I've had since high school, I'm pregnant (that's kind of a big one, I realize), as I said before, I'm not married (if that's a problem for you, don't sweat it, it's a problem for me sometimes too). I'm dating the boy who grew up down the street. We're happy (95% of the time anyhow), we (ok, maybe up until the pregnancy I have overwhelming fears that it was just me) plan on getting married as soon as the baby is born and we've figured out that we can go the rest of our lives and not develop any serious hatred toward one another.



I work for a great big media company, I have a really good job there. Funny thing is, before the boy next door and the baby thing came into play, I was the girl who got out of our little small town, moved all around the country, did big things, had big plans. Plans, needless to say, have changed.