3:30 AM is not a reasonable wake-up time …

I seemed to have birthed a morning person. Which is generally fine with me, because I am a fellow morning person, up between 5:30 and 6:30 AM, without the aid of an alarm clock — and my most productive hours are typically in the morning. But 3:30 AM is ridiculous. This morning Gracie was ready to party at 3:30 AM. Should I just leave her screaming in her crib? Much more difficult to do now, that (1) she yells specific requests — "mommy" and "up" — instead of unspecific crying, and (2) I’m afraid it will finally occur to her that she could climb out of her crib (and I want her to stay there for a bit longer). Now that she can talk, I don’t feel like I am letting a blob-like baby cry it out — I feel like I am cruelly denying a human being what they need. I tried taking her to bed with us, which works if her need is mommy-cuddling. But, no, that just egged her on. Because this morning, what Gracie wanted was mommy-playing. She climbed over me, played with the covers, and tried her new trick of attempting to merge our faces together by pushing (not sure if that works in this space-time continuum). So I gave it up and turned on an Elmo DVD. Now, I’m not that upset about her being a moody toddler today, because that’s the nanny’s problem (she’s with Gracie from 8-2 today). But, I am working this morning, drafting a chapter for a book (due this Thursday), editing bylaws for a volunteer organization, and meeting with two new clients. I could have used a few more hours of sleep — but that is the side effect of having a toddler — the wonderful joys of having an unpredictable life. Perhaps Gracie is in training to start a new donut or coffee franchise. Fine, as long as I get a good cut of the IPO.

Am I doing it for her … or am I doing it for me?

Many working moms, in or out of the home, say the are "doing it for their kids." Even with mompreneurs — women claim starting a business is for their kids, to be a role model, earn an income, and, eventually, pass on their business. I make no such claim. I am doing this for me. Yes, I am also a role model for Gracie — an example that a woman can love her work, be passionate about helping others, and achieve financial success. Yes, I also am physically there for Gracie, around most of the time — the "quantity" theory of spending time with your kids — and I consciously spend concentrated "quality" time with her each day. Yes, I am earning an income for the family, and the expansion of my business in upcoming months will bring in even more income and success. But I am doing it for me. I love running my own business — being in charge, able to switch directions in a moment, able to explore the success of any new idea or product, as soon as I make a choice. I love owning my time, able to spend time on my business, or myself, or with my family — completely up to me. I love working with human beings as clients, helping them with real problems that plague their lives, and make their lives significantly better. I love that whatever success I achieve (and whatever failure happens), is totally and completely mine. I also am completely in love with my daughter. I love that she spends more waking hours with me than anyone else. I love her whispy hair, her smiling eyes, the way she runs with her arms wide open when I enter the room. I love when she surprises me by figuring something out the "books say" she should not be able to do for another six months. Or when she suddenly is able to walk down stairs by herself, or call someone by their name. I don’t want to miss any of it. But I also know that if I was there for every second, I would burn out. I would not appreciate it, because my damanding, high-energy toddler would drain every ounce of energy out of me, if I did not have something completely for myself, to recharge my batteries. Yes, being a Mompreneur also benefits my family. But I am doing it for me.

Leaving Baby at Home with Daddy

I writing from the Hilton Los Angeles Airport, and my baby is back home in San Jose with daddy. I miss her. During the flight, and in the hotel, I keep seeing things I want to share with her, describe to her — and I am resisting the urge to babyproof the room. But life is incredibly more simple sans baby. For example — going through airport security. Instead of removing my shoes while chasing a toddler through the line (hoping she does not take off through the metal detector — what would they do, shut down the airport?) — going through security is calm and easy. Instead of entertaining a a baby on the floor of the terminal, I was part of regular civilization, sitting in a chair (!) and worked on a project while waiting for my flight. BTW — the project would have taken 60-90 minutes with Gracie around — at the airport, I got it done in 20 minutes. Everyone is so much simpler, not just because Gracie is a handful, but also because she requires so much Stuff — diaper bag, toys, car seat, stroller, milk (and getting that through security!). But I miss her. I woke up at 5 am because I thought I heard her crying. Instead of opening my eyes, I waited for the second cry — and realized I heard a plane taking off outside. Oh yeah, I’m in a hotel. The best benefit of traveling? Daddy, alone home with Gracie, learns to fully appreciate Mommy.