Working mama: mojo, mojo where are thou?

When I decided that this year would be the one I would go back to the work world, I was ecstatic. Of course, it only lasted the time of drinking my morning cafe au lait and looking at my tired eyes in the mirror of my wardrobe . Truth to be told, with L’s snort all over my black top, my dirty hair and my broken nails, I did not look the part. Worse, with my brain programmed to deal with diaper rash, stew cooking or bingeing on diapers.com, I simply did not fit the part. Something became clear. The first step of Operation Working Mama had to be: get my mojo back.

In my old job, a lot of what I was doing had to do with reading, analyzing, interviewing and writing. Jumping back straight into where I left things off has been hard. I mean, I used to write about the social economy or various frameworks of power analysis for social change. A tad intense, isn’t it? I thus decided that I should probably rehearse my skills in a fun way. DH suggested that I volunteer for the NYPD to patrol projects in Harlem and could use the experience to write juicy pieces on ‘Old Harlem, New Harlem’. I am not kidding. He got a leaflet and really pumped me up for it:’What is awesome about it is that you get to learn self-defense techniques‘. I was appalled. Me+NYPD+guns ? How did he think this would end? Seriously…

Instead I opted for a more peaceful approach: writing profiles for my blog. Since my self-confidence is pretty low at the moment, I did what a girl should always do in this situation: call a friend, bribe them with a champagne lunch and get them to be the guinea pig. After a lot of Facebook hassling and hustling, my first victim is Brandon Aldridge, Betsey Johnson’s senior designer and right hand man. For the occasion, I dressed young and free. We met at Betsey Johnson’s offices, quintessentially girly and quirky (see the little teaser in the pictures montage). Hours later as I was jumping into a cab after downing a glass of bubbly to meet my sick kids at their pediatrician, I felt good. I had been able to carry out an adult conversation for two hours! It was a baby step but as my kids kind of taught me, these can be the hardest to make.

workingmama1

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