Mickie McNamara: The Medalist!

Friday was awesome! I was awarded the Achievement Medal from the Department of the Army. When I arrived here four years ago I saw many of my colleagues had medals and plaques on their "I love me" walls. Often when visitors came to my office they said they expected to see framed degrees and medals on my wall. I am not the type to frame and hang degrees. In fact the only framed item I have hanging in a place of prominence is Hunter's first artwork from daycare. He painted the sun with his little fingers.

Hunter's first artwork (Excuse my polka dots in the refection!)

Secretly I longed for a medal of my own. After a few months I was given a certificate of appreciation. I came home pleased with myself. Ryan looked at me and then at the certificate. He said what you want is a certificate of achievement. That's something you can put on your resume. Ryan ends many of his sentences with: "Put that on your resume". I kept those words in mind. Taking on developmental assignments that would get me ready for that achievement certificate.

Earlier this year President Obama announced the Army was going into Liberia to assist with the Ebola crisis. The rest as they say is history. I ended up with the Achievement Medal for my efforts. It did not come with a certificate. I get that later, but my medal sure is pretty.

Now That's What I Call a Perk

My new boss is awesome. Ok she's not that new. She has been here for about six months now, but I think it takes about that look to get an authentic feel for someone's management style, and most importantly their vision. All that comes into clearer focus everyday. What makes working for her exciting is that I learn something new from her almost every single day.

A few weeks ago she shared a few copies of Outside magazine with me. Well share is probably not the most accurate way to describe what happened. I saw a magazine on her desk. It had titles of articles such as "The New Dream Jobs: Get Paid to Do What You Love" and "The Science of Fear: How to Thrive When Things Get Scary." If you know me then you know I was immediately interested in Outside magazine. She handed over a few copies that I stuffed somewhere in my cubicle because Liberia happened and was swamped.

She just got back from a trip toTanzania on Monday. It was a brief trip but, she was very interested in the places she saw and the people she met. She mentioned her new found interest in climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro. I have tons of goals and dreams, but climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro was not with one of them. It made think about the magazines stuffed in my cubicle. I opened and turned to a page that listed one of the perks at Fullcontact based in Denver is a $7, 500-per-year stipend to fund a vacation during which you must refrain from sending e-mail, making phone calls, and doing any work at all.

I pride myself on knowing my friends pretty well, and as far as I know none of you work at Fullcontact. Otherwise you would have told me about this amazing perk at your new job. Suffice it to say my new boss has already inspired me to new and exciting goals. Now that's a great boss!

The New Agent Orange

I have made lots of new and different types of friends since my arrival in Vicenza four years ago. The majority of them have the military in common. Many of them have stories to tell about the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan but don't, at least not to me. There are the one liners that remind me of the heavy toll a very small portion of the American population has endured over that last thirteen years. It is a fairly common experience during lunch to hear colleagues say things such as, "You know how it is spending hours in bunker after a mortar attack." Obviously not talking to me, but to each other.

Last week at a networking event, an Officer who was briefly my boss before I went on maternity leave, and I were chatting at a networking event. He is a tall, slender guy with features reminiscent of the comedian Jim Carey. We worked together for a very brief time, but in those few weeks we built an easy rapport. I was eyeing the attractive mini pizzas at the buffet while he subtlety averted his eyes. I gestured to the pimento olives, "The olives are terrific. You can have as many of those as you would like." He said yes, but looked less than excited at the prospect. I reminded him that I had suffered through my third trimester with gestational diabetes, and had some understanding of what he was going through as a diabetic. I asked if he was diagnosed with diabetes early in life, and whether or not it was hereditary. He answered no to both. Then added that he was diagnosed after his tours in  Iraq. "Perhaps it was the stress of combat," I said empathetically. That is when he said it: "Probably has something to do with being blown up up a few times." He continued, "or the food, or the burning oil fields, not sure. Diabetes is becoming very common among veterans of Iraq. It's the new agent orange. " He went on speaking, but I was so unnerved by the thought of him being blown up few times that I have no idea what else he said. I was standing there with someone who had been blown up and lived to tell about it. I'm still processing the reality of that.

He was talking about the cauliflower pizza he made that was not too bad. He used cauliflower as a substitute for flour which is mostly a no go for diabetics. By then I was thinking of ways to stop myself from asking the forbidden questions: How many times were you blown up? And when? And how? And where and are you ok? None of those questions are "allowed" because..well because it is impolite or unknowable or too heavy for a networking event with mini pizzas. I'm not quite sure I even want to know.

The presentation part of the event began with him as the emcee. I had a hard time looking at him because he has paid a high price to serve his country, and lives a reality far removed from mine. That knowledge widens the distance between us, and is a stark reminder of what it means to soldier on.

The Lean in Project

Midway through my pregnancy last year I listened to Sheryl Sandberg's book "Lean In. " It was both inspiring and motivational. In the book Sheryl suggests that given the opportunity women should always sit at the table and lean into the  discussion. Before my pregnancy I had no problem adhering to her advice, but as my pregnancy progressed I was not so quick to head to the table. I was trying to make room in my life for the baby and thought work needed to take a backseat in order to make that happen. The problem was I love my job and I have a solid reputation at work so, even when I didn't grab my seat at the table, my peers and mentors beckoned me to join.

There was a pivotal moment when a when a colleague spoke to me about an upcoming opportunity. There was a job opening up in another division and he told me I should consider applying. We were in my office, and I was guzzling ice water from a thermos. I constantly craved ice water when I was pregnant. As I considered the prospect of a new job,  I wondered how realistic it was for me to make a career move when my baby was due in a few weeks.

Then I thought of Sheryl Sanberg's advice and leaned in. I was not sure I would get the job, or even more daunting, start a new job with a brand new baby, but I knew I would try. I continued to sit at the table and raise my hand during meetings. I stayed actively engaged in my career throughout my pregnancy. When the baby came I took two and half months off work. While I on maternity leave, most of it unpaid, I received a job offer for what can best be described as an incredible stepping stone. It's not my dream job. I want to be careful not to characterize it as that, but it is an important resume builder for the dream job that I know is just around the corner.

With a new job on the horizon I focused on breast feeding which just did not go as well as I hoped. When I got tired of crying over both spilled and unspilled milk. I bought t the best powdered milk I ccould find.

Soon after starting the new job, an opportunity to go to Namibia arose. Namibia is one the places in Africa I am most curious about. I did not lean in on that one.  The baby was still too young to have a mother off in Southern Africa trying to save the world. Other opportunities will present themselves, and if it's right for my family, I'll be there.

When One Door Closes A Window Somewhere Opens

A few months ago a wise friend told me childcare would be an on going issue for years to come. She only said it a few months ago, but this issue has come up many times since she uttered those words. As you all know I had a baby in January. What most of you didn't know is that I have been on the waiting list for day care on post since NOVEMBER. Yes, I was on the waiting list since last year, before the baby was born. Childcare is that serious around here.

With very little hope around I came up with contingency plans. First just the three of us getting to know each other. Then my aunt came for three months during which time Ryan had to go to a class in the States for three weeks. My aunt was leaving in the middle of the three week stretch so Ryan's mom came to help out. We crossed our fingers, went to church, prayed and pleaded with the folks who run the daycare not to forget about us. Approximately halfway through Ryan's mother's visit another dear friend recommended her housekeeper as a nanny. I gave a her try for a few weeks while Ryan's mother was still here. She is great with Hunter, available and willing to be our nanny full time when Ryan's mother left.

Ryan's mother left on Wednesday and on Thursday the day care center called to say that after sitting on top of the waiting list for months a spot opened up. I had 24 hours to make a decision. We maintained our course. We forfeited our spot in favor of the nanny we carefully vetted for two months. Problem solved. I felt pretty good about myself until this morning.

This morning the nanny told me she had bad news. The factory job she had ten years ago wants her to come back to work for them, and she she's sorry but, she loved that job and is leaving. Yes after less than a week she's leaving. She offered her mom and friend as alternatives, but I was so mad I couldn't see straight.

I blurted out the whole sordid tale to my male companions at work, who to their credit listen attentively and offer solid advice most of the time. They strongly encouraged me to run over to the CDC and ask for  my spot back. Full of anxiety and tension, I ran into the director on the way inside. She asked what she could do to help. I was in obvious distress. They checked the roster and they have a spot for my baby. Not one for public displays of affection, I threw my arms around the director's shoulders and exhaled. Then squeezed her tight and sobbed for a few minutes. Yep, all this happened in the lobby. Quite the scene in my six-inch heels and mini dress! This mommy thing is often more than I bargained for in so many ways, but I love how much more expressive I have become. Who knew I could be even more dramatic...

Constant Craving

It feels like I have more decisions to make now that I have a baby to think about. Of course I made decisions before the baby but, now there are so many more. The ones I have to make about Hunter are often challenging. After four months of struggling with breastfeeding I decided to begin the weaning process. He's just not that into to it anymore, and breastfeeding is not one of those things you can force a kid to do. I tried pumping but, the reality is the less time you spend with baby the less milk mom will produce. It's one of those laws of nature.

Other big decisions are on the way. Up next the decision that I will make again and again for the next several years: CHILDCARE. Ryan's mother has been here since April, and my aunt was here before that so Ryan and I have had help almost everyday since we came  home from the hospital. With Gena's scheduled departure quickly approaching we have a few childcare options on the table. Unfortunately Ryan and I do not agree on the same option yet, but I am trying to get him there.

As for the working mom experience, there is a constant craving to quit and stay home with baby. I imagine this feeling will be my constant companion for years to come. Just this Sunday faced with the decision to entrust my child to a stranger, I vividly fantasized about telling my boss I had to quit because I couldn't leave my baby with a babysitter. No matter how I arranged the words in my mouth, they sounded ridiculous coming out. The fact is there are hundreds of thousands of mothers working outside the home and perhaps many more at home raising their childeren. I am not advocating for one or the other. Simply trying to find a way to give my son the best I have to offer through the example I live.

My family can provide more for my son with two incomes, and I want him to grow up with mom that has a career. The jury is still out on which childcare option we will choose, but I know we will make the best decision we can.

My first Mother's Day

The weather has been unpredictable. To sidestep a potential Mother's Day washout, we celebrated Mother's Day yesterday, Saturday May 10. I volunteered to plan the day, and Ryan was so grateful. Planning something special for the two most important women in his life, his mother and I, had him worried.

The three of us went to our favorite restaurant in Venice, La Patatina and then to one of my favorite museums, The Peggy Guggenheim Museum. I went there for the first time in 2009. It is a wonderful little museum in her former home. This was Hunter's first of many visits to a museum.

This morning I took him to church for the first time. He was very calm and interested in all the new sights and sounds. I hope he will continue to find deep comfort in going to church.