But, this news article on “Womenomics” has been an open tab in my Firefox browser for nearly a month now, as my own blending of work and life has prevented me from writing about it.

What made that article really jump out at me was that it mentions “a legendary ad sold working women on the idea they could have it all” and I have to believe the writer was thinking of this one that had so much influence on me growing up:

I grew up with images like that, and terms like “supermom” being thrown around, and I know it shaped me. I watched my own mother work part-time, then go back to college and begin working full-time - all the while doing the bulk of raising three kids and pretty much all of the the housework. And that shaped me, too. Reality looked a lot harder than the media messages I saw, and I became convinced that marriage and kids were not in my future.

My how things change as we grow older, huh? Toward the end of college I started to wonder what all that career success I anticipated would be like if I didn’t have someone with which to share it. And later, after several years of happy marriage, I saw another reality where someone I worked with really did seem to be living that supermom-career-woman life of perfume commercials.

So, I ventured into parenthood - and was reminded of my mother’s reality again. And, a few years later I watched that supermom-career-woman mentor leave a successful corporate career path for something this book now says we shouldn’t have it leave it to have - flexibility.

The Wall Street Journal’s Juggle blog says the message of “Womenomics,” by ABC News correspondent Claire Shipman and BBC World News America newswoman Katty Kay, is that skilled female workers have earned far more leverage at work than they’re using, by virtue of their educational credentials, experience and proven value in management.

I know I’m extremly lucky to have a job that affords me much flexibility without my need to push for it. I work online with teams around the globe, so much gets done over e-mail, IM and conference calls - all of which can be done from anywhere. And, I work for a manager that understands that and doesn’t require “face time” in the office as long as what needs to be done gets done. That sort of work schedule is not just something that women want, however.

When Shipman and Kay spent 90 minutes with Families and Work Institute (FWI) staff and Corporate Leadership Council members, they heard of FWI’s latest research that shows men are also making work/family choices. Men are making changes to take family responsibilities. The FWI National Study of the Changing Workforce shows that men and women are both less likely now to embrace traditional gender roles. Only 41 percent of employees in 2008 believe it is better “if the man earns the money and the woman takes care of the home and children,” down from 64 percent in 1977.

You can see it online in the DadLabs motto of “taking back paternity,” in the posts from the fathers that have joined us here on This Mommy Gig, and many of the other fathers who blog at places like Dad-o-Matic.

We’re experiencing it ourselves as my husband has recently made the decision to leave the workforce to stay home with our daughter over the summer. And whenever he re-enters the workforce, he plans to make flexibility a main priority, so he can continue to spend time actively parenting.

I think it is great, and it certainly makes it that much easier for me to not have to worry about the logistics of summer camps. But, that doesn’t mean there aren’t some adjustments we’re having to make as traditional gender roles get a little blurry.

Sure I want to bring home the bacon, but what happens when someone else frys it up in the pan?  I wonder if anything like that is covered in the “Womenomics” book? If you’ve read it, let me know. And, if you’ve got any tips for transitioning from two working parents to one, please share those, too!

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It’s time to plan a family vacation.  My kids have always found the front hall closet a fun and rewarding ‘adventure’ for a week or two.  Give them a flashlight and some Twinkies and they’re good to go.  To make it a ‘Wild Kingdom’ type of getaway, I just throw in the pet hamster and snake and watch nature take its course.

My husband thought the kids might enjoy a change of scenery this time around, however, and brought home several brochures of cave spelunking, helicopter skiing, bungee jumping and other “extreme” type of vacations.

“Haven’t you ever wanted to jump off a bridge?” he asked me.

“Every day,” I answered.

“Seriously, sweetheart, extreme vacations are a great way to bond the family and release stress at the same time,” my husband said.

I thought back to my husband’s Grammy playing naked water polo in the Marriott Courtyard pool last summer and wondered just how much more ‘extreme’ a vacation I could take.

“And extreme vacations don’t have to mean rustic.  Many are very upscale.  Look, here’s a trip to Antarctica complete with gourmet meals,” he said.

I interpreted ‘gourmet meal’ as being carried away by a polar bear that has sadly mistaken me for an oversized seal in my Louis Vuitton leather parka.

“And this one incorporates a social cause,” my husband continued pointing to a glossy picture of a family preparing fully equipped backpacks for the Emperor Penguins prior to their now famous march over hundreds of treacherous miles (couldn’t the family have given the birds a ride in their luxury all-terrain tour bus instead?).

“Or, if you can’t decide, just choose from this handy chart,” he persevered.

“I’ll take ‘Solitary Confinement’ for 100, Alec.”

“C’mon.  The kids will love it,” my determined husband said.

I looked into the backyard where the sun danced across the climbing rocks and the tall sugar maple held up the tire swing and tree house. Then I turned to the living room where our kids were staring mindlessly at the TV.

“Kids, would you like to go on an extreme vacation instead of the front hall closet this spring?” I asked.

No response.

“I can’t say they’re enthused by this, honey,” I said to my husband.

He walked over and shut off the TV (apparently embracing the extreme vacation tenet to risk life and limb).

“DAD! What are you doing?  We were watching THAT!” they cried.

“Tell me what show you were watching and I’ll give you fifty bucks,” he challenged.

“The Simpsons,” said one.

“American Idol,” said another.

“60 Minutes,” said the last, glaring at the others for forgetting their agreed-upon pat answer.

Their father calmed them down and asked them to select a family vacation destination – front hall closet (exotic pet animals and junk food included) or Parachuting in Paraguay, perhaps.

“Can’t we just watch “Fear Factor” while washing dishes for mom?” they asked, recalling a particularly favorite moment when the brothers challenged each other to eat dinner remnants out of the garbage disposal.

Their discouraged father turned the TV back on and left the room, his shoulders hunched, his chin down.  My heart ached for the good and dedicated man.  It was at this moment I decided to help him achieve what he so desired.  I vowed to push him off a bridge the first chance I got.

Obvious Gratitude

It’s easy to be grateful about the obvious things like a casserole someone has brought you or someone watching your baby for an hour so you can nap or take a bath by yourself. I’m pretty good about expressing that gratitude, and even though it’s a little fuzzy, I think I even wrote thank-you notes to people for different kindnesses after Mark died. Even if those notes were in the form of e-mail.

Now the things that I should be obviously grateful for are things like a colleague who makes a couple of calls for me when they see I’m swamped, or my husband making sure that I have an hour to myself to write a post. I’m usually pretty good at both expressing my gratitude for those things and reciprocating when the chance comes.

Obscure Gratitude

I think most of the not-so-obvious moments come when you aren’t aware of them. Or you are vaguely aware of them, and they hit you in hindsight. For example, I am immensely grateful to my former boss, Christie, for the work she had to do to pick up my slack while I was either physically or mentally gone from the office. And the part I am most grateful to Christie for is that she was never anything but worried for us as friends, and I never heard a word from her about where something was or when I might be coming back or why I was sitting at my desk crying.

I’m working to be more aware of the things people do for me so that I can thank them, or at least do the same for someone else some day. I’m also working on awareness of things around me that are going well so that I can be grateful for them (the weather, my car works well, air conditioning, air conditioning, and also air conditioning).

Struggling for Gratitude

The one place I always have to struggle for gratitude is my own health and my body. If I were truly grateful for it, I would take better care of it, it’s as simple as that. I can use all the excuses I can think of (I’m going to start exercising tomorrow, I’m not that overweight, I need this 837th can of diet soda to help me stay awake) but it all boils down to my lack of gratitude for my body. Right after Mark died, I hit panic mode, and tried to get healthy so that nothing would “happen” to me and Nicholas wouldn’t be a total orphan. That lasted a few months until the complacency kicked in again.

I thought I was a grateful person, but now I know how far I’ve got to go. I’ve got a few people I really love who are fighting cancer right now. Awesome, incredible, smart, tough, I-want-to-be-them-when-I-grow-up women. They are moms and wives and daughters and they are fighting harder than anyone I’ve ever known to live good lives and enjoy every minute of their lives while fighting the disease. I’m proud to know them and I’m trying to take their attitudes and apply it to my life.

I’m trying to be grateful that I can get up in the morning without being sick, that I can feel an ache in my hip and know it’s because I need to get fit and not because there may be a tumor in my bone, that I can pull my hair back in a clip. I’m also trying to be grateful for movies, music, books, blogs, art, friends, ripe nectarines, naps and time. And I’m trying to do it in the matter-of-fact way that those people I really respect do it. There is no show of “look how grateful and evolved I am!” They are just aware of all of their blessings (and yes, the crap they are going through too), and are happy to have them.

Forever Grateful

I hope I can say with some truthfulness that I don’t take the most important things for granted. I am aware of how spectacular my child, my husband, my family, my colleagues, my country are. I am also aware of and grateful for the time I had with Mark. I hope that I can use my own example and always be grateful for those people and things while trying my hardest to become more aware and grateful of all of the other spectacular things I am and I have.

This is a cross-post from Type-A Mom and Paper, Scissors, Keyboard

I have held a lot of other “really cool” jobs throughout my lifetime - starting as young as age 12 or so: newspaper delivery gal, babysitter, newspaper stringer, grocery store clerk, video store clerk - even a nanny. When I was in college I held three jobs and a full class load. So I know the value of hard work.

The question for me now is, how do I teach my children about hard work without necessarily having them get jobs when they’re teenagers? I’m not sure that I want them to have that responsibility along with all the other pressures and commitments that kids seem to have these days. But even at their young age, we talk about working a lot - they have two Type-A parents so it’s impossible for them not to ask about “why do you have to work,” and “why do you work so much” - you know those heart-wrenching questions that come at the most opportune times!

We (my husband and I) definitely want them to understand the rewards that come with working hard. Like most parents, we have things like homework to focus on, but we also wanted to give them the opportunity to earn something besides good grades and pats on the back. Yes, allowances are good - but at their ages, money is still not something that they are eager to earn. They do have piggy banks and understand that’s where birthday money and allowances go for now - but they don’t really care about or yet understand money. We wanted to encourage them to begin to understand responsibility and earning with something that mattered to them now.

So my husband had the great idea of creating a chart that has age-appropriate goals on it for each of them. He cut and painted gold stars with velcro on the back that they can earn - when they reach a certain amount of gold stars under one category, they are then eligible for a “prize” of their choice. We printed and cut out photos of “prizes” for them to choose from and velcro onto the chart once they reach the end in a category - these include everything from a variety of new toys (small things like Hot Wheels cars, for example), to family movie night (their choice of movie) to lobster dinner (yes, our seven-year-old loves lobster).

When we told our friends about the chart at a BBQ the other day, they looked at us like we were crazy. But teaching the value of hard work and the rewards that come with trying are something we definitely wanted the boys to begin learning at a young age. As long as you keep age-appropriate chores/responsibilities and rewards in mind, children can begin to learn this valuable lesson that will serve them well throughout life.

How do you teach children the value of hard work in your home?

None of us do. I can’t think about it. Literally. This is going to be the world’s shortest post because I can’t stand the topic.

But, here we are literally pummeled with news of Michael Jackson’s death and the news that he left his kids to his mother, with Diana Ross as the backup. And I got reminded that we (not the world, but my wife and I) still haven’t dealt with this issue at all.

I don’t want to leave my kids ‘to’ anyone. They aren’t antique dishes. I can’t think of anyone that could do it right like we could. It kills me. Every time we try to talk about it, I end up in tears. And I’m not a crier.

Thinking about Madonna helps, and Rosie O’Donnell - because they’re okay (says someone who has NO earthly idea, but they seem to be doing well).

I always thought it would be my mom - and it still probably is, but she’s here with us for the summer and she’s 66 and she’s vocalized her overwhelment more than once. It’s their energy and the whining and the nakedness and the peeing outside (um, lady, you’re the one that bought them that cute little french book about a little boy that pees in the grass) and the food allergies and the laundry and the…

I can think of some friends who fit the bill - but they have busloads of their own kids. My brothers? Nah. My in-laws? No thanks.

I hate this. Just thought I’d say that out loud.

So? I just won’t die - until they’re old enough not to need their mother anymore - which is about 35 as far as I can tell. I’ll be 68. Seems reasonable. Okay universe???

If anyone wants to leaves me a comment saying that I have to just choose and be responsible, please don’t. I know. I really, really do. I just don’t wanna leave my kids, like I said before, period. They’re cute, they smell good and they say things like, “Please bring me a book and close the door, I need to poop in my own privacy.”

And I love them more than the world.

Update: The first friend that read this reamed me out so hard on Skype that I thought my computer would burst. We’re picking a guardian, the lawyer is drawing up the papers. As this ‘friend’ said - ‘just hold your nose and pick someone.’ Well, if you put it that way…

Tonight, my husband is out of town, and my daughter refused to go to sleep. I decided to make things fun for her and to let her snuggle in “mommy and daddy’s bed” for a while, maybe even sleep there with me. I even let her watch a little movie in bed after her regular bedtime to make it extra special. I thought that would be a cool mommy thing to do.

The whole thing backfired on me. When I said it was time to go to sleep, instead of a compliant child, I had a toddler meltdown on my hands. What was I thinking? Of course she’d be overtired if I let her stay up past her bedtime. Why hadn’t I anticipated the errors of my ways? And why did I think my idea of cool mommy was even remotely suitable for a three year old? But what the hell do I know?

I don’t know, and there’s the rub. I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing, a devastating realization for an overachiever who has been good at just about everything I’ve put my mind to do. But not motherhood. I throw my heart, soul and brainpower into being a good mom, but it always seems to backfire on me.

For some reason, I’m not getting the memos on what to do when she refuses to go potty, refuses to eat her dinner, refuses to go to bed. Intellectually, I know she is testing the waters, testing her power as a little individual. I don’t know how much is too much discipline or how little is too little. I don’t want to crush her feisty little spirit, but I can see how this could happen all too easily.

Tonight, after carrying her kicking and screaming into her bedroom when she utterly refused to go to sleep in my bed, I listened to her screeching and howling. Then she came out of her bedroom and back into mine.

“Go…to…bed,” I said in measured tones.

“I don’t want to go to bed,” she sobbed.

“Go…to…bed…now…or I’ll carry you back in your room and shut the door.”

“I don’t want to go to bed in my bed. I don’t want to go to bed in your bed. I want to go to bed in the living room. On the sofa,” she told me.

The living room? Was that okay to do? Was I giving in too easily, I wondered, as I followed her to the living room and tucked her blanket around her as she curled up on the sofa. She wanted to go to sleep in the living room. I returned to my bedroom exhausted, overwhelmed, feeling like I didn’t know what just happened or why. Certain that I just committed Mommy Sin #1285 and creating some new problem by not making her sleep in her own bed tonight.

Then I had to laugh through my own tears tonight as I read Steve Woodruff’s post about Father’s Day, and how men can feel inadequate about being fathers. Who are the parents who don’t feel inadequate most of the time? Or what I really want to know is who are the ones who do, and what denial pill or happy sauce are they slugging down? I want some.

Am I the only one who feels at any moment I might get fired from this mommy gig?

So, how can you make your man feel special - not only on Father’s Day, but throughout the year?

Tell him something he’s doing right.

If I’m like most men - and I suspect I am - we feel pretty often that we’re the biggest frauds that ever walked the planet. These kids are supposed to look up to ME, and model themselves after ME? Sure, you know you’re a jerk when you’re in college, but you REALLY come to understand what a bozo you are when you have kids. It’s downright intimidating.

Maybe your guy doesn’t articulate it quite so plainly, but most of us are haunted by a deep sense of inadequacy for This Daddy Gig. And as the kids get older, guess what - the perplexity increases, not diminishes.

I guarantee that the father of your children has plenty of flaws, and certainly you could list them off in double-time if you were so inclined. But, don’t. Make his day by telling him something you appreciate - something he does really well. Let him know about a character trait that he has that you fervently hope your children will share. Understand that underneath whatever layers of bravado he chooses to wear, there’s a fellow in there who really wants to hear, “Attaboy!” Because bringing up kids in these treacherous times is really hard, quite frankly.

Then do it again the next day. Lord knows we need it.

If your kids watch the same TV channels mine does, then you’ve probably seen the commercials for a new virtual world called Free Realms. My girl certainly saw them and wanted to go check it out, so our series of kid-focused virtual world reviews continues.

Free Realms
Free Realms bills itself as “a fun, whimsical virtual world filled with dynamic gameplay and compelling content for everyone, especially families.” It’s really more of a pure MMOG than any of the other worlds we’ve toured as part of this series. As soon as my girl set up her account (all by herself, except for my need to give her an e-mail to attach to the account) and entered the world, she was met by a character asking her to embark on her first quest. This prevents the “what do I do now” issue that plagues some virtual worlds, but also aligns more firmly with games such as the non-kid-focused World of Warcraft (WoW).

With more than a million people signing up for it in the first week and that number doubled already, it’s on target to be just as popular as WoW, too. In addition to quests, kids can work at a variety of jobs from pet trainer to ninja to miner and others mentioned below. Like most other kid virtual worlds, you can enter and play for free; but, for $4.99/month you can upgrade to get more things like additional job options, and you’ll also pay to purchase items.

The Good
Free Realms automatically limits kids under 13 to “quick chat” - my preferred choice for my youngster because it restricts them to a preprogramed set of words and phrases to communicate. That way you don’t have to worry about them giving out any personal information (but, don’t let that get you off the hook for still having that discussion about what you don’t share online).
Free Realms’ parent controls area also mentions that they intend to implement a feature which will permit you to customize a calendar to set times of day and/or days of the week that your kid will have access to the account online, as well as days and times during which they may play.

The Bad
I’m willing to bet that most of us teach our kids that fighting is wrong, so it’s a little unsettling to see that quests in Free Realms can involve combat and one of the jobs kids can get is called a Brawler. Brawlers are described as being “up for fight anytime with anyone” and they “use hammers, clubs, and powerful kicks to defeat enemies.”
We didn’t run into any Brawlers in our first few visits to Free Realms, but then again, we didn’t run into anyone other than the in-world characters who play parts in the quests. This may or may not be a bad thing, but struck me as odd considering there are supposed to be more than 2 million people in-world now.

The Lessons Learned
I only heard the “rated E for everyone” part of the commercials, but when you really look, you’ll see it is “everyone 10+” and I would reccomend following that age recommendation from the Entertainment Software Rating Board. Even more specifically the rating warns of “crude humor” and “fantasy violence.” We haven’t encountered the humor yet, but as noted above, the violence is definitely there.

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• The free price is working out nice for Sony’s Free Realms as registrants top 2 million (venturebeat.com)
• Video Game Review | Free Realms: Pick a Role, Any Role, Then Live Nine Lives (nytimes.com)

Dear Naomi Wolf,

I’m really a fan of your work. So I’m quite confused by the article you wrote about Angelina Jolie in Harper’s Bazaar where you declared her the new feminist icon.

One of your reasons? Because she had escaped the Madonna/Whore debacle. Interesting? Did she really? Was she ever a shoe-in for the Madonna? There isn’t enough ‘orphan’ in China to cover those tattoos. Sorry. (I have three tattoos myself, I love tattoos, but the Madonna - last time I checked - had none.)

Escape the image of the Whore? Um. Last time I checked she had an affair with a married man and then told everyone about it in a magazine. You wrote, ’she managed the almost unheard-of task of turning the home-wrecker label into a wholesome, family-friendly triumph.’ …………….. Sorry for the pause. I was busy. Throwing up.

Is this a joke? Who decided that she triumphed and who the hell called it wholesome? I think what she did was horrid and unforgivable. I’ve never caught her face on the front of the tabloids and thought anything but, ‘Ew.’ She did something wrong. She hurt at least one person, badly. And because the media decided to spin it one particular way, she triumphed? Naomi, you say it yourself: Maddox was photographed playing squeaky clean football with Brad Pitt, the father figure, and by Annie Liebovitz loving his mother. This was not a triumph - but a well-played, well-moneyed PR stunt.

I don’t care how much good she does in the world, you can’t really erase that, can you??? Maybe you can note her change or congratulate her for doing good things - but call a spade a spade. I beg you.

Then, you claim that because Santa Angelina (as Perez likes to call her) got her pilot’s license, she’s chosen “the classic metaphor for choosing your own direction.” Oh? What about a race car driver like Danica Patrick? What about Secretary of State like Hilary Clinton (I mean, she travels all over the world!)? What about an artist? What about a writer? I can think of dozens of professions that involve choosing your own direction. Boldly, even.

You also declare that ’she took for her own pleasure the male seen as the most desired of the tribe, Brad Pitt.’ Not to me. I’m a George Clooney kind of a girl. And there’s something so barbaric in your word choice…but I get that you meant to do that. You want us to see her as the cavewoman clubbing the man and dragging him back to her cave. You succeeded, I just don’t find that alluring, praise-worthy or as a desirable behavior.

Maybe this is my favorite part of your article:

“Yes, she is conventionally beautiful: Bosomy and wasp-waisted, with that curtain of hair and those crazy pillowy lips, she is an obvious male sex fantasy.”

Hello? Naomi? Are you even in there??? You, yes YOU, the one that wrote The Beauty Myth. On what planet is Angelina Jolie ‘conventionally beautiful’??? Her boobs are huge. She looks anorexic - whether she is or isn’t, her bones poke out and there is no meat on her. She’s 34 years old, has carried three children in her womb and her stomach is non-existent and those boobs stand up without stretch marks so far as we can see. Her lips are, as you say, pillows - meaning overstuffed (and I’m sure they’re natural, they do seem to exist in her childhood photos). BUT MOST WOMEN DON’T LOOK LIKE THAT.

If I remember correctly, you wanted to liberate us from thinking we needed to idolize that male, sexualized, impossible to attain ideal! Just because some women, or the majority according to your poll, think she’s hot doesn’t make it okay. Why do you think they find her attractive? Doesn’t this beauty myth play a role. Wasn’t your theory that women are pressured into taking on this idealized concept of the female body? By men?

I read your book a long time ago, when it came out in 1991. And it meant so much to me. So much - as a woman who was struggling with an eating disorder, who had just found herself plopped in an Abercrombie & Fitch catalog masquerading as a private, New England college, who went on to struggle and survive, who was proudly among the first small group of women to graduate with a Women’s Studies major.

So, my feminst icon? Well, she used to look a little bit like Gloria Steinem, Alice Walker, Billie Jean King, Sylvia Boorstein and my fourth grade teacher, Holly Tetlow, all rolled into one. But the more I read your article, the more I realized that my icon is so much more. She’s new women I meet doing amazing things, female authors that are writing their hearts out, mothers that survive the loss of a child, girls finding their voices, she’s my friends, she’s my family. And she’s me - on my good days and on my bad ones.

We are more universal. We’re a grab bag, really. As diverse as our needs and wants on any given day. But, bottomline, my icon is real. She’s here.

Live and let live. I don’t know Angelina Jolie and I don’t pretend to just becuase I can read about her life in People magazine. But, I do know my icons, idols, role models and fantasies…and they look, act and exist nothing like Angelina Jolie.

What’s your parenting style?

T-Mobile says I’m a hard-ass. Well, actually they called me “Sgt. Strict.” But same diff. In either case, it surprised me, because while I’m not exactly a pushover, I’m sure not a drill sergeant, either.

For example: Your teenage son is dating a girl he met on summer vacation, who lives four hours away. You…

…think, “A girlfriend he never actually has to go out with? Perfect!”

…quickly up his cell phone minutes.

…have him figure out how much it will cost him in gas to visit her twice a month.

…keep him busy with extracurricular activities. He can see her over winter break.

Or:

…tell him if they pick a movie theater halfway between their two houses, you’ll drive him there.

What would you do? Discover your parenting style in this fun (and yes, a little silly!) quiz from T-Mobile:

Take the Mom to Mom Quiz here.