The Working Mother Experience is a 250 page glossy coffee table book that contains nearly 100 essays written by EMC women (and one man) from around the world. The essayists share their candid perspectives on being working mothers in our fast-paced business environment.

Study finds that “Working Moms are fine for kids”

Aug 3rd, 2010
Natalie Corridan-Gregg
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A working mother that I follow on twitter linked to this NYT Blog (Motherlode) The title is “Working Moms are Fine for Kids”.

Spoiler alert:  Mother’s who return to work do not irrevocably damage their kids.

I remain steadfast in my belief that returning to work after having a baby is a personal decision.  In my opinion both options, returning to work or being a stay-at-home Mother, work just fine for children.  Happy families is best and whatever gets your family to that happy place is all that should matter.

For those of you who felt the research showed you were “harming your children” by choosing to return to work here is evidence to the contrary.

As someone who had to go through this decision personally I know it can be a tough one.  In the end, I decided to return to work and it was the right decision for me.

“Because you told me not to.”

Jul 18th, 2010
Natalie Corridan-Gregg
1 Comment »

Earlier tonight my son drank water from the kiddie pool in our backyard.  Let me repeat myself.  My son drank the water from the kiddie pool in my backyard tonight. Before I go any further, allow me to explain he was well cared for today.  He was not suffering from lack of attention, dehydration or malnutrition.  At the time of the incident he had drank plenty of clean water, eaten many healthy snacks and two of three meals for the day.

I have been told that many kids have had a drink of pool water, or worse, and survived.  That does not change a thing.  I am still beside myself.  It is not only upsetting because my son drank water that he had been playing all day, but due in part to the conversation we had shortly after the incident.  Allow me to share an excerpt as follows:

Mommy asks, “Why did you put water from the pool in your mouth?”

Child’s reply,  “Because you told me not to.”

Mommy, (complete with feeling of brain exploding), “Because I told you NOT you, you decided to drink pool water?”

The child replied with a tentative look.  “Yes.”

I was bewildered, sad, worried he would get sick and ANGRY all at the same time.  I am typing while my son eats his dinner.  My brain craves to have a discussion with an adult version of my preschooler right now.  “What on Earth were you thinking?”  The logical part of my brain understands that kids must test boundaries and experiment, but what is the right response when they do something wrong ON PURPOSE?  My son is no stranger to time out, but I usually understand his behavior.  This act seemed to be ludicrous and purposeless to me.

I realized standing next to the pool with the sun beating down and my last nerve in danger of frying that I was at a parenting inflection point.  Instincts were firing off commands to my brain as I desperately clutched for a clue.  I silently sorted through my thoughts one by one:

Of course, the first instinct was to scream.  Quickly passed over that one.  What good would it do?

The second instinct was to take a few seconds to mentally kick myself for all the nights I did not let him cry himself to sleep.  I did not want him to know an extra moment’s sadness.  Funny where your brain goes, isn’t it?

The third instinct was to punish.  Time out?  Send him  to his room without dinner? Cancel the next Disney trip?

Nothing felt right.  After a few silent moments, the oxygen made it’s way back to my brain.   I realized that although frustrating ( infuriating), this is behavior is mostly normal.  What is important is to calmly explain that we are done in the pool for today and that tomorrow I expect that he will keep the water where it belongs.  I think that was the right choice for me, my son, and his (inevitable) future therapist bills.

Life has moved on.  Routines have taken place.  Shoes in the drawer. Hat on the hook. Hands washed.  Dinner prepared and eaten.  My son seems to have forgotten the whole incident and I am left wondering if I made the right choice.  I am strangely comforted at this moment to be a working mother.  Not because I won’t miss my angel, tests and all, tomorrow.  I will.  That said,  tomorrow at work, even if someone does something I told them not to do, they likely won’t inform me they did it just because I told them not to!

An older, tired-looking dog.

Jul 13th, 2010
Natalie Corridan-Gregg
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I have no idea where this story originated, but it was sent to me by a dear friend this evening.  Working Mothers will especially get a chuckle.  Enjoy!

************************************************

An older, tired-looking dog wandered into my yard.
I could tell from his collar and  well-fed belly that he had a home and was well  taken care of.

He  calmly came over to me, I gave him a few pats on  his head;
he  then followed me into my house, slowly walked  down the
hall,  curled up in the corner and fell  asleep.

An  hour later, he went to the door, and I let him  out.
The next day he was back, greeted me in  my yard, walked inside and resumed his spot in  the hall and again slept for about an  hour.
This continued off and on for several  weeks.
Curious I pinned a note to his collar:  ’I would like to find out who the owner of this wonderful sweet dog is
and ask if you are  aware that almost every afternoon your dog comes  to my house for a nap.’
The next day he  arrived for his nap, with a different note pinned to his collar:
‘He lives in a home with 6 children, 2 under the age of 3 – he’s  trying to catch up on his sleep.
Can I come  with him  tomorrow?’

Father’s Day

Jun 20th, 2010
Natalie Corridan-Gregg
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Father’s Day Blog Post.

I was out and about with my family yesterday and I popped into the boutique next to my husband’s favorite coffee store.  The sign hung over the register.  “Shop today for you, celebrate Father’s day tomorrow in style… if Mommy’s not happy nobody is happy.”  I could not help but smirk.  A ladies specialty boutique that only has women’s jewelry and handbags had done their best to boost sales on a tough weekend for them.

It is Sunday afternoon and after a delightful day at a local beach, my son and husband sit watching the US OPEN golf tournament.  The other man in my life, my brother, is playing in a golf tournament in another part of the state.  Golf was my father’s game too.  Me?  I never understood the affection people have for the game.  I learned how to play at a very early age and played the requisite Mother/daughter, Father/daughter tournaments growing up.  I have only played in a handful of charity matches since.   With the right company on the right day is can be almost fun, but it is usually played in warm weather (hot and humid) around water (buggy) for hours.  Hmmm, no thanks.   Yet, I would not trade any of my experiences with my family at the golf course.   It is part of who I am.

No. I did not inherit my Father’s love for golf, but he did bequeath to me his tenacity and his work ethic.  Unfortunately, I inherited his lack of patience and his temper, too!  (That’s another post altogether).

Happy Father’s Day to all the great, yet perfectly imperfect Father’s out there!

Under Construction

Jun 9th, 2010
Natalie Corridan-Gregg
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As you may have noticed, the blog is undergoing some upgrades.

Please forgive any odd comments or mispellings as we finish the enhancements.

Thank you!

NOT Thursday

Apr 25th, 2010
Natalie Corridan-Gregg
1 Comment »

I think life with kids, at least the way I tilt the scales of my life, often feels like running an obstacle course.  There is a sense of feeling alive and having a purpose.   My life has meaning.

There are a lot of moving parts to being a parent.  We are responsible for everything from the clothes on their backs to (optionally) saving for their college tuition.  The responsibilities of now and tomorrow can sometimes be overwhelming.  Most days I feel I have it together.  This past Thursday was NOT one of those days.  Henceforth this day will be called, NOT Thursday.

Thursday started with a (way too early) trip to the gym.  Often my boy is still sleeping when I go to work with my personal trainer.  NOT Thursday.  The tot was awake and teary.  He was definitely out of sorts, but nothing specific seemed to be wrong.  By the time I left for work he had a slight temperature, but nothing startling.  Daddy was home for the morning so I went to work knowing he was in good hands.  By the time I came home from work my child still had a temp and was refusing to eat or drink anything.  However, he kept saying nothing was wrong.  He had no pain.  I saw that he kept swallowing and swallowing, but he seemed resolute in his complacency that nothing was bothering him. I took his temperature – 101.  I decided a call to the pediatrician was in order.   Typically an evening call to the on-call pediatrician is a routine affair.  NOT Thursday.  In a fluke, Murphy’s Law, sort of way the after hours number was stuck in a never-ending loop sending you back to the main menu.  Meanwhile, the boy’s temperature rose to 102 Degrees.

I try the local ReadyMed number I have kept on the refrigerator for just such an emergency.  Expecting them to gladly take my cash, I pat myself on the back for being prepared, and call them to find out what the procedure is for being seen.  I forgot, this was NOT Thursday.  They told me I needed a referral from my pediatrician (that I can’t reach). I explain to the receptionist that I can’t reach the pediatrician and they say, “No Problem”, and transfer me to someone who can help.  I explain the situation to the next Nurse Ratchet she sighs and HANGS UP ON ME!  NOT Thursday! The temperature on the thermometer that I keep torturing my child with rises to 102.5.  Now my pediatrician prefers to see us before the fever reducer medications are given, but since I can’t reach the office, I give my boy Motrin.  I try to reach my sister who is a critical care nurse.  She almost always answers her phone, NOT Thursday.  I call another sister who has 5 children, does she answer? NOT Thursday! The temperature climes to 103.5!!

My son wants me to hug him and walk around carrying him.  I am trying to IM with my husband (he is at work) and decide if I should take him to the hospital. Yes, I know about the tepid baths and playing with water in the sink.  I was nervous about the rising temperature, but also afraid to take him to the hospital and expose him to everything there, when his immune system was clearly compromised.

I did what anyone would do in my situation.  I called my MOTHER!  She told me not to worry.  Normally, I would listen, but this was NOT Thursday. Zigging when I should have been Zagging was the name of the game.

I realized it had been hours since I came home from work.  I had not changed my clothes, eaten a single bite of food or had one sip of water.  Hmmm.  I stood over the island in my kitchen and tried to catch my breath and relax.  I tell myself, “I am smart, I will figure this out.”  I was reflecting on how lucky I was this was happening on a Thursday night.  My Mother-in-Law who adores my son was there to keep him comforted while I tried to come up with a strategy (which mostly involved waiting for SOMEONE returning my phone call!!).  BTW, I never argue with my MIL, but this was NOT Thursday.  Suddenly, I am having a very unpleasant conversation with her. UGH!  After my MIL leaves, I discover my son has a rash.  I assume it is a heat rash given his temp, but this is NOT Thursday!

Normally, I don’t see my husband again in the same day after he goes to work.  I am usually asleep long before he comes home.  NOT Thursday. My son could not sleep, so neither could I.  I tried to provide as much comfort as I could.  The temperature came down with medication, but my son was still so uncomfortable.  Even while sobbing, my normally very articulate son, could not tell me what was wrong.  I hated NOT Thursday!  Friday, he saw the doctor at 11am.  Strep Throat.  Guess who else has Strep Throat now?  That is right, Mommy!

It has been three days of antibiotics and rest for both of us.  Life is much better now!  We are both feeling better and smiles and laughter have returned to the house.  For me, once I know the enemy (Strep Throat) I can deal.  My son is not suffering from some incurable fungus or Lime disease, it is common, painful but curable, STREP.  I am so glad it is no longer NOT Thursday!

P.S.  Thanks to all my friends who emailed me tips and tricks.  Yes, we have tossed the toothbrushes and the fruit popsicles are a hit!

Good Question…”We Need Women Leaders. How Do We Get Them?”

Apr 10th, 2010
Natalie Corridan-Gregg
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Stumbled onto a article in Forbes Women this morning. It was titled “We Need Women Leaders. How Do We Get Them?”

“Creating equal opportunities for women starts with a willingness to change the status quo….Today’s workforce already comprises more than 50% women. When will the composition of America’s business leadership reflect that reality? If we don’t fully harness the power of women in the workforce, our future growth could be at risk.”

There are some great points made in this article, worth a read.  Of course, it will be a challenge to find corporations with the willingness to change status quo and to invest in that change.

The World is FLAT

Mar 14th, 2010
Natalie Corridan-Gregg
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Scientifically, I admit that the Earth is round. This blog does not ascribe to conspiracy theories such as a flat Earth or that Americans have never landed on the moon.

When I say the world is flat, I mean the corporate world.   The traditional hierarchy of class systems has changed.  Inside corporations the world has become, if not flat, then at least flatter. Today, CEOs receive emails from individual contributors. Fans can twitter some of their favorite music stars, actors, or celebutantes.  At EMC, we see this play out over and over again.  People who are willing to ask, and have the credibility to see things through are given amazing opportunities.

We see examples of extraordinary things happening to people who are willing to ASK in the world as well:

No idea if the event (below) was truly spontaneous or planned.  It could have been a publicity stunt, but I want to believe it was someone who took a chance.  As women many of us feel that we should not risk it unless we are 100% certain of the outcome.  I say, ask yourself what is the worst that could happen?  Careful what you wish for it might come true!

As a mother I was happy for Austin.  I was even more proud of his Mom.  She taught her son to Believe that with hard work and preparation ANYTHING is possible.  Rock on, Austin!

John Mayer & young fan Austin – Belief

The loss of Joyce Hynds

Mar 2nd, 2010
Natalie Corridan-Gregg
7 Comments »

Heroes come in many forms.  The most famous save us from bad guys, pull us out of burning buildings, and throw winning touchdown passes.  But the heroes that most profoundly touch and shape us are the ones that exist in our everyday lives–those who inspire us, challenge us, motivate us, and put a smile on our face just by being in the same room.  Joyce Hynds was such a person.  She was a dear friend, a mentor, a role model, and a confidant to me.  She was also my hero.

Joyce lost her battle with cancer early yesterday morning.  For those of you who knew Joyce, you understand my profound sadness (celebrating her through these words is all I can do right now to keep the tears somewhat at bay).  For those that didn’t have the privilege of knowing her as I did, I hope that reading this will do her memory justice and give you some kind of idea of what a truly amazing person she was and why she will be missed so.

And so, with that being said . . .

Joyce liked to wear high heels and give warm hugs.  She probably never thought much about the hugs she would give me in the hallway at EMC but it made my day.  And looking back, I think that those famous heels and hugs together create the perfect metaphor for who Joyce was: a sharp, stylish, witty, no-nonsense gal with a passion for life and a heart with room and love for everyone; someone who could giggle like a school girl one moment and stand toe to toe with any head of state the next.

When Joyce spoke it was always an occasion to listen.  Her animated and vibrant persona would command and light up a room even when talking about what she ate for breakfast.  She entertained everyone in a casual and unassuming way that neither drew undue attention to herself or came at anyone else’s expense.

This easy and affable nature, though, often hid the fact that an incredibly tough and stoic woman lied just beneath the surface–a side of her I might never have known had I not returned to her desk unexpectedly one day to return the gym badge she had left behind.  I knew something was off when, well before I reached Joyce’s desk, I heard a man barking and bleating like a bully about some papers that he claimed to desperately need.  As I got closer to her desk, I realized that the unpleasantness was being directed at Joyce.  Myself feeling a bit taken aback from the man’s domineering tone, I was blown away by how cool and unyielding Joyce was.  In that moment, my normally warm friend was firm and unflappable.  She dispassionately yet firmly explained to the brute that he wasn’t going to get those papers and why.  A reaction that made his antics look all the more pedestrian and childish.  It may not sound like that riveting a story but I have channeled and emulated the Joyce I saw on that day on several occasions when I needed similar strength and resolve.

Did I mention that Joyce liked to wear high heels?  And not just any high heels, mind you, but insanely high heels.  All the time.  And yet she pulled it off.  Her fashion sense was vivacious and colorful and completely in tune and distinct to who she was.  Her personal style achieved the perfect balance of professional and fun, whimsical and polished, and served as a model for all of us still searching for that elusive “career look”.   Instead of the groundhog, we all looked to Joyce every year and waited for her festive silk skirts and peep-toed heels as a sure sign of Spring.

As you can obviously surmise from what I’ve already shared about her, Joyce had a work hard, play hard attitude towards everything in life.  I’ve never known anyone, especially at Joyce’s age, so dedicated to physical fitness and yet also so ready to tear into a cheesecake or big box of white chocolates.  Joyce had a body that made women half her age jealous and she was walking proof that when you attack exercise as passionately as you attack food, you can have your cake and eat it too.   I’m going to be lost without my spin, step-aerobic, and Turkey-Trot buddy.  Even though she spun, stepped, and ran circles around me, she was my inspiration and my guide.  However, I do have a sneaky suspicion that she stayed in such tremendous shape throughout the years not for the sake of vanity or athletic accomplishment but because of her undying crush on Tom Selleck!

Of all the things Joyce was, though, it was her role as Grandmother that meant the most to so many.  Her love and dedication to her own family was at the center of her strength and beauty and she extended that love well beyond her own offspring.  Joyce was particularly famous for her “baby wall” which was a side of her cubicle entirely dedicated to pictures of her EMC families’ children.  Every new child had a place on her wall and she maintained it and boasted about it as if every baby on there was her own grandchild.  I’ll never forget her reaction when I told her I was pregnant (I still have blood in my head from the strength of her hug) and how she constantly checked in on me and saw me not only through the pregnancy but through my new life as a working mom–perhaps the greatest of all the many gifts she gave me.  Taking my baby son to meet Joyce was one of the proudest and most special moments of my life.

Like any true leader or role model, I don’t think Joyce ever thought of herself as one.  And I doubt she knew that she was my hero.  The great thing about people like Joyce is that none of that matters to them.  They don’t do what they do for accolades or recognition.   With the poise of a statesman and an angel’s heart, Joyce served as a flesh-and-blood example of what we all can aspire to be.  I urge all of us look at the positive and tangible impact she had on everything and everyone around her and consider that as we now go about life without her.

Some of the people who are near us are queens wearing invisible tiaras.  Joyce Hynds was one of those queens masquerading as common folk.

I will miss you, girlfriend.

Updated to add ceremony information as well as link to tributes on the Funeral Home Site: http://www.lehmanreen.com/obituaries/tributes.php?id=12437  (Thanks, Doug!)

 

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Women and Self-Promotion

Jan 24th, 2010
Natalie Corridan-Gregg
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Many women are uncomfortable with the concept of self-promotion.  In fact, one of the most packed seminars I ever attended was called the “impostor syndrome”. If you are unfamiliar with the definition – here it is from Wikipedia:

The Impostor Syndrome, sometimes called Impostor Phenomenon or Fraud Syndrome, is a psychological phenomenon in which people are unable to internalize their accomplishments. It is not an officially recognized psychological disorder but has been the subject of numerous books and articles by psychologists and educators.

Regardless of what level of success they may have achieved in their chosen field of work or study or what external proof they may have of their competence, those with the syndrome remain convinced internally they do not deserve the success they have achieved and are actually frauds. Proof of success is dismissed as luck, timing, or as a result of deceiving others into thinking they were more intelligent and competent than they believe themselves to be.

This syndrome was thought to be particularly common among women who are successful in their given careers, but has since been shown to occur for an equal number of men. It is typically associated with academics and is widely found amongst graduate students.

Many working mothers suffer from self-doubt and it is a constant struggle to find balance.  Maybe because we fear that others have more time to dedicate to one area of their lives, for example, the office.  The truth is that people with a great deal on their plates tend to be more productive.  They don’t have to be working mothers, but they are people with discipline and priorities.  In other words, people who don’t have time to procrastinate.

Women in general need to be a little better at talking themselves up.  Consider this blog post from Clay Shirky (Warning:  foul language in the Shirky blog post) called Rant About Women I stumbled onto via Twitter.  I know nothing at all about the author of this well written article and can not vouch for its authenticity.  However, I found his seemingly first-hand account of the career achievement differences between men and women in his own corner of the world a worthwhile read.  It may open up readers to new possibilities, enjoy.

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