Melanie Griffith, I ain't.

  Right, so ya'll remember the closing scene of "Working Girl" when Jack Trainer hands Tess her cute little "I sit on iron crossbeams fity stories in the air during lunch-hour" lunchbox? Yeah. I remember it too. I believe she had PB&J, but I could be wrong... it's been a while.

Painful though it is to admit, even the most 80s of 80s movies can't help but invoke in us (is it just me?) the desire to have that small little bit of attention paid when we hit "Working Girl" mode. No longer am I just the Mom on the Couch in Yoga Pants and Flannel Shirts; now I'm that mom who has to drag her lazy, coddled ass out of bed before the sun rises; that mom who has to scan closet contents with a close eye; that mom who has to shun her husband's side of the closet (with all its fuzzy, warm, oversized shirts) and instead dwell on all that shit that's been wrapped in dry cleaner bags for 6 motnhs; that mom who actually has to plug in her damned flat iron and/or hot rollers in the feeble hope that these styling products will imbue her with an air of panache, flair, and professionalism.

Once the makeup is applied, the appropriate attire has been donned, and the hair styling tools have been utilized in less-than-professional methods, it's time to either take something out of the freezer or throw something in the crock pot, feed the animals, double-check doors and windows are closed and locked (or at the very least, left slightly ajar so that there are no surprises at the end of the work day), kids have all the money they require as well as signed paperwork, gas, and any nurturing/fashion advice/encouragement they may need/ THEN it's time for the first cup of coffee that is slugged down while jockeying for position on one of the many interstates leading into Kansas that have been closed down in an horrific methodology that defies logic in even Third World Countries (run on sentences, I believe, aid in illustrating the bullshit that is my daily drive).

And then there's 9 hours of a work day. For me, it's fantastic. I really do feel blessed in this new position I've attained; this is an office full of fun, smart, fantastic people who make the days go by quickly and who are eager to share their knowledge in order to help me help them. Really, I love it.

But then the work day ends. Throw the traffic jockeying in reverse (with a major shit show occurring at the bridge into Missouri... which I avoid with an insight that seems to be astonishingly simple), and commence Re-Entry. Normally Re-Entry entails racing into the house and rushing to the nearest bathroom, followed by a jog upstairs to relieve myself of the confines of office clothing so that I can wiggle in to flannel, yoga pants, camis, and warm fuzzy socks. Personal comfort achieved, it's time to start dinner, start laundry, start analyzing school days, share tragedies and triumphs of the work day, feed the animals, clean the kitchen, sweep the floors, sort through the mail, shower, pack breakfast and lunch for tomorrow, and then, at some point, indulge in a few minutes of idle reading.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not bitching... Merely providing details. Were I to bitch, I might say something like, "When I got home today, there was a kid sacked on the couch and my husband was cleaning his guns on the family room floor so he could go shooting on Sunday." OR I could say, "I anticipated the smell of Chicken Tikka Masala to greet me at the door today, but instead I smelled gun oil, overdue litter box, and teenager." OR I could say, "Once showered and enrobed in yoga pants and flannel, I emerged from the steamy, herbal-scented bathroom and was greeted by the scent of gun oil and teenager." Now THAT would be bitching.

But who likes bitching? Let's instead focus on the scent of clean laundry that now mingles vaguely with the scent of Chicken Tikka Masala/Gun Oil/ Overdue Litter Box. Let's instead focus on how fantastic I feel in knowing that tomorrow we will all have clean undies and full bellies. Let's focus on how straight those guns are gonna shoot on Sunday. Let's ignore the litter box for another day and instead rejoice in knowing that I've assembled a breakfast and lunch for my work day that will provide energy and power to my body and my brain.

Did I mention the scent of gun oil?

Oh Yes, It's Senior Night, and the Feeling's Right

Or, then again, maybe it's not. Right, I mean. The feeling.

As I prepare for Senior Night at the swim meet this afternoon, I feel there are a few things I should be doing:

Contemplating the fact that 3 years of hard work, devotion, and abstinence from carbonated beverages during swim season have culminated in a swimming career of which my son should be proud.

Relishing the anticipation of the revealing of his Favorite High School Swimming Memory.

Wondering if he'll take the comedic or serious route in response to the question: What do you plan to study in college, and why?

Giving myself rousing little pep talks in the hopes that they will keep me from bawling like a baby pig when he brings me my flowers on the pool bulkhead.

Engaging in premature giggle fits over the thought of him clad in a Speedo and necktie. Yes, I'm serious. It's what these boys do on Senior Night. And it's freaking Hysterical.

Instead, and I'm really opening myself up for public humiliation, scorn, and scrutiny by these revelations, here's how I've spent the last moments before Senior Night (bear in mind that there will be photographic evidence of tonight's ceremony. Photographic evidence that will forever immortalize me. Er, um, HIM... HIM HIM HIM. It's HIS night. Not mine. Yeah, tell that to my vanity.)

In the past two hours I have:

Tried on 4 pairs of jeans until finding the ones that minimize my tummy without looking like Mom Jeans or Pajama Jeans.

Googled and READ 4 (ok, maybe 6) articles on "How to Look Thin in Pictures."

Considered Spanx.

Avoided solid foods, especially bread.

Spent more time applying makeup and hair products than I ever did when I went out catting in college.

Honestly asked myself the question, "Kitten heels? Too much?"

Given serious consideration to the height of the photographer and his distance from me during the 4.5 second photo shoot in order to ascertain if I was going to have to use the "Look Away" technique or the "Tongue Pressed Against Roof of Mouth" approach.

After that consideration, I also spent a few moments wishing I'd paid more attention in Calculus so that I could actually compute the exact angle at which I must hold my chin(s) in order to avoid a rehashing of certain passport pictures that shall remain sealed forever.

Avoided even one second of engaging in any of the behaviors I SHOULD have and, thereby, channeled my vanity into a whole new level of narcissistic indulgence.

There. There it all is. Laid out for the world.

And I feel better for having shared. Now, gotta go touch up my lipstick, smooth my hair, suck in my gut, and thank God for waterproof mascara!

It's Duck Season, No, It's Wabbit Season...

 

BLAM! Duck Season. 

That's how it ends, folks. At least for Bugs and Daffy. Here at the Huffman Homestead, it's still Job Hunting Season. I've actually had some clear shots at good prey (meaning that I've had a couple of really good offers) but I'm still resolute in my desire to obtain the right job for me rather than just taking a job for the sake of having one. Fortunately, there are no tag limits, no day-glo clothing requirements, and the only scent I need to spray on myself before hitting an interview has mild floral undertones rather than a musky, doe-in-heat-urine aroma.

Let's face it, job hunting can really suck. Although a job hunter need not leave a warm bed on a cold, wet November morning nor slog through muddy-fields of waist-high prairie grasses nor dash wildly like a  German Shorthair  who's just scented a covey of quail feeding in the distance, there are actually things to be learned from Elmer Fudd and other great hunters in history:

• Know Your Prey: there's no easier way to derail your job search than by losing focus on what exactly it is you're after: failure to focus on a career path is like hunting mule deer in a duck pond. If you spend your time targeting positions that don't meet your specific career goals, or  companies whose cultures and values don't jive with yours, you're not going to get a clear kill shot. Many interviewers will ask you what other companies you've considered or what other jobs you've interviewed for; if you're interviewing for a position as a technical recruiter, don't you think it would be nice to let them know that you've visited with other recruiting firms and not Toys 'R' Us? Wouldn't you enjoy that smug satisfaction that comes with sharing an insight you gleaned while researching trends in your desired field? Trust me, it comes across better  than admitting you saw the job on Career Builder and thought it sounded like something you might be able to do. A clear, focused understanding of what you are hunting is a direct reflection on your ability and experience and assures your interviewer that you are serious about this job in particular. Hunger for specific prey keeps you sharp, desperation leads to mistakes.
• Familiarize yourself with the terrain: like hunting grounds, companies change with time. It's good to know the past lay of the land and its trends, but focus more on the present and the future. These days, the corporate terrain is in a state of flux so it's important to discover if there has been a change in leadership, ownership, or even just a refocusing of energies and priorities. Alterations in structure can significantly change the landscape of a company you may already think you know. Take time to study the company's information on their website and on social networking sites like LinkedIn and Facebook; read press releases and articles in industry publications or the local news. Go to Glassdoor.com  and read the employee reviews, the information on interviews and hiring practices, you can even check out the salary ranges. Once you've established that this company is a worthy target and you've landed the interview, it's time to narrow those crosshairs even more. Get to know this job like it IS your job. Study the company. Study the job description. Are there tasks or skills about which you need more information? Is there industry-specific jargon you need to brush up on? Are there new trends or developments in best practices that have come up?  If you walk in feeling educated and confident, you're not going to waste time asking questions that could have been answered with a few minutes of preparation, thus proving to your interviewer that their company was a priority before they even offered you a job. Speaking of interviewers, find out who that person is and do a little research on them. I'm not talking about stalking them in a cheetah-wildebeest type scenario... That's creepy. Instead, use those social networking sites to find out how this person fits into the company,  and their relationship to your desired position. This research not only allows you to specifically tailor your questions, it also gives you the opportunity to get a more personal glimpse into the company. Has your interviewer been at this company for 20 years, or are they relatively new to the company? In either case, go ahead and ask why they've stayed or why they joined.  I have consistently gained valuable insights into companies by asking these questions and have been armed with a better understanding of the terrain I'm hunting. Knowing the specific landscape equips you with confidence. Hell, even if you don't get this job, you've spent time improving upon your existing skill set, broadened your knowledge base and have increased your chances of success in the next hunt. Forewarned is forearmed, right?
   
• Outfit yourself for the elements: good hunters wear gear that provides comfort, safety, and camouflage. If your suit has been hanging in your closet since Aunt Edna's funeral in 1985, don't wait until the day of the interview to put it on. Take it out immediately and find out if it fits physically as well as chronologically. There's a chance you were never told to invest in a classic, so your suit may well make you look like you just stepped off the set of Falcon Crest or Knot's Landing. Don't let your interviewer be distracted by the shoulder pads, the epaulettes, or the skinny tie. Let's relegate that suit to the Kids' Halloween Costume bin and go invest in a classic. Wait, you already own a timeless wardrobe piece? Fabulous! Now, be honest here: can you slide it up over your hips and does it zip, button, or hook easily? No? Can it be altered? If yes, find a tailor. If no, donate it to an organization that can give it to someone in need and go shopping. You don't need to spend a fortune on a suit, but do be choosy and do spend a few bucks getting it altered. Even if it looks and feels great, a little nip here and a little tuck there will make you look and feel like the mighty hunter you are. Don't underestimate the emotional camouflage a good suit provides. Hunters wear camo to blend with their surroundings and to provide them with confident coverage. A great, smooth-fitting interview outfit is going to make you FEEL confident thereby helping you project confidence. (other gear-based tidbits: put your jacket/blazer on right after you get out of the car at the interview-- no wrinkles; carry a lint removal device with you-- get those fuzzies off in the parking lot or in the restroom before you meet your interviewer- cat or dog hair is NOT an appropriate accessory)
•  Blend with the habitat: hunters use scented sprays and duck calls to convince prey that they are part of the habitat. Same thing goes for job hunters. It's incredibly off-putting when someone walks into a room smelling like a love-struck 8th grade boy who just discovered Drakkar. You're not trying to find a date at this interview, so don't smell like you are. Limit or omit cologne or perfume entirely. If you're a smoker, keep that suit jacket in a garment bag (dry cleaning bag, etc) so it doesn't smell like an old ashtray. If you absolutely must smoke before your interview: roll down the car windows; put as much time between your cigarette and your interview as you can; have some Febreeze in the car and spritz yourself sparingly before you go in the building; take a moment to go into the bathroom and wash your hands to remove any lingering tobacco scent. Pay some attention to your grooming before the interview: get a haircut; shave; pluck wayward hairs from your chin, your eyebrows, or your knuckles; clip your fingernails; don't channel your inner- Tammy Faye Bakker by smearing on pounds of cheap, garishly-colored makeup; remove that chipped nail polish and either get a manicure or give yourself one. Ladies (and gents), long, sparkly fingernails just make you look tacky and cheap. Like a well-built deer blind, your personal grooming habits should neither be a distraction nor a topic of conversation in the break room (or around the watering hole) after you leave the interview.
• Drink lots of water: every hunter knows that dehydration can cause exhaustion, loss of focus, and feelings of desperation. With this metaphor, I'm not just talking about guzzling H2O (although, truth be told, it is important even if you're not physically exerting yourself; I do recommend staying off the hard stuff while you're hunting. Nobody is going to be impressed by a bleary-eyed candidate who radiates the scent of cheap scotch.. see BLENDING above); these days I mentally hydrate by taking a break from the rigors of the hunt (which include but are not limited to: job board perusal, resume improvement, webinars on self-branding, and post-interview second guessing). Even full-time salaried employees get a break. When hunting mammoth, I'm sure that cavemen stopped occasionally and talked about new fire-building techniques, shared experiences they'd had with their newfangled wheel, or joked about Urga and her sloppy cave-sweeping techniques. You need to do the same. Step away from the computer. Go take a walk, play a round of golf, sit on your back deck and marvel at all the yard work you should be doing, call a friend and meet for lunch and talk about everything BUT job hunting. Like sipping from a cool stream, mental and emotional hydration will provide you with energy, focus, and a rejuvenated outlook on yourself and your search.
  
• Only kill what you're going to eat and, if possible, enjoy: you need a job like cavemen needed protein? I get it, but if you end up doing something you hate or posit yourself in an environment that isn't conducive to your happiness, then chances are you're going to negate the expenditure of all this time and energy by ending up right back where you are now. Unfortunately, on this next hunting expedition you won't have the time or the energy to hunt as effectively because you've got to work the search around your current job, the demands of home, time spent with family, and myriad social obligations. Great, you're being fed, but the meat is gamy, overcooked, and can't be salvaged by wrapping bacon around it. If you are going to be spending 40+ hours a week doing something, then you better make damn sure it's something you want to do and in a place you want to do it. (Note: I can say this because I have a spouse who is employed full-time so there's no wolf at my door. I'm blessed in this, but I realize that for many hunters, stringy, gamy meat is better than no meat. If this is the case for you, latch on to the savory, delicious, bacon-y aspects of the job you take and wrap it around yourself. It's experience, it's new knowledge, and hey,  it's BACON!!)
  

Ways to Combat the Fear of Empty Nest Syndrome

One child is heavily engaged in the college athletic recruiting process in anticipation of a 2013 departure; one is just getting started in high school but already contemplating fall 2016.

And what of their mama? Living in denial is not an option when evenings are spent sitting quietly while listening to Liam dazzle coaches with his insightful questions, heady goals, and surprisingly mature level of introspection. It is not an option when free time that was spent in such aimless tasks as laundry sorting, bathroom scrubbing, and kitchen mopping is now spent making sure that the dining options at interesting colleges are varied, the swim coach is committed to promoting a family environment, and the nearest airport has direct flights from KC. Let's also not forget the need for my little high school freshman to start considering her options: will she pursue collegiate membership in a Q-Tip Head marching band or the more fun, Stanford-esque scatter band? Party school or convent? Is a women's college an option? It should be.

Q-Tip Head Gear

Bee's kind of marching band

The option of denial is also negated by the 45 pounds of college literature we receive in the mail each day, the constant studying of FAFSA info, scholarship options, and continued awareness that every dime we spend today is one less that can be put into the on-campus charge plan. 

So how am I combating the anxiety and sadness? How am I channeling the excitement and nervousness? Funny you should ask....

1. More dinner table time, less dinner on the fly. I used to be religious about sitting down at the table with the family for dinner, but schedules have made that difficult. Ya know what? Eating dinner at 8 is OK when it means we all get to see each other at the table. Plus, table manners can make or break you socially in the college caf.... Elbows on table? No prob. Food flying out of your mouth during deep, philosophical discussions? Deal breaker. They will NOT be The Kids Who Eat Alone.

2. Job hunting. Yes, I'll have to be employed before they leave the house and it will drastically change the way we schedule our lives, but having a focus for myself that also provides more financial stability for my family means that I can stop worrying about the bank balance and spend more time focusing on what a great time they can have while away. Besides, networking and research takes my mind off What is to Come for a little while each day.

3. Maximizing the one-on-one time. I never miss an opportunity to drag just one of the kids out of the house with me. Whether it's going to the car wash or the grocery store, or just popping out for a couple of quick errands, I prefer to have one of them with me. It's funny how much you learn in the car when your kids don't have the pressure of looking you right in the eye when talking about the day. You think they're honest on Facebook and in text messages? Imagine what they're like when they think your attention is more focused on driving.... If they only knew.

4. Writing a college cookbook. That's right. Remember how often you joked about writing a cookbook entitled "101 Ways to Cook Ramen?" Well, that cookbook now exists (although I didn't write it), but I'm working on recipes for the up and coming collegians that is budget-friendly, reminds them of home,  allows for frequent use of microwaves and electric kettles, and uses only the utensils that may be successfully stolen from the cafeteria. On the up-side, most of the schools Liam is looking at have kitchens in the dorms OR the dorm rooms after Freshman year are set up more like apartments and have full kitchens.

5. Mentally redecorating the house. That's right, once Liam is gone we'll move Brianna into his room. That project alone is fodder for hours of daydreaming and online perusal of decorating ideas. Meanwhile, her move will necessitate a redecoration of her current room (library, weight room, study?) as well as the current guest room because Liam's gonna need a comfy place to call his own when he comes home for visits. And then when Brianna leaves? Well, then we truly have a guest suite with a private bath and it will need to be set up for appropriate accommodation. And what if one of them ends up living in our basement in their 30s? Hmmm, we'll need to work on that, too. Let's also not forget that once they leave the nest, the re-feathering of common areas will need to commence. At last, we CAN have nice things. Well, once the cats die....

6. Developing hobbies. I honestly think my kids believe my favorite hobbies include: playing chauffeur, cooking for a horde, shopping for school clothes, and sitting at swim meets/band practices/orchestra concerts/band concerts/ and parent-teacher conferences. It's hard to remember what I used to like doing when I had uninterrupted free time. My God, what if I'm a latch hook rug master? What if I'm a frustrated ornithologist with untapped potential to sit quietly in the woods in search of the elusive Blue-Footed Booby? OK, ornithology is a stretch, but you get my point.

Latch Hook Ornithology

Blue-Footed Booby

7. Refurbishing my wardrobe. For most parents this may not be something that would come to mind, but when your t-shirt drawer is 99.9% comprised of Gildan Crew Necks emblazoned with meet logos, school logos, and your kids' names, it's time to start thinking of what you'll wear when those shirts only have to appear when you're cleaning the house.... Wait... colleges have spirit gear too? OK, so wardrobe planning may still be a distant dream...

8. Living in the moment. Ugh, cliché I know, but it's a true necessity right now. Even when I'm mentally redecorating, wardrobe planning, or cookbook composing, enjoying the moments I have with my kids has taken on a new level of urgency and importance. I don't want to spend the time I have with them now lost in memories of when they were learning to walk, smearing their rooms with the contents of their diapers, or taking those first steps across the threshold of their classrooms. I have lots of time for that in the years to come. Right now I am enjoying every snippet of time their busy schedules allow. Do I want to bitch about going to another swim meet or band performance and killing my back on metal bleachers? Of course I do. And I will. However, every time my son finishes a race or Bee successfully executes some bizarre side-stepping, flute-tootling dance move, I appreciate the opportunity I've had to cheer, gasp, gape, or toe-tap, and remind myself that my mother was right, these moments are indeed precious.

9. Annoying my children with heavy sighs, dreamy gazes, and unexpected affection. Heavy sighs don't have to be a sign of exasperation (although they sometimes still are), instead they can be manifestations of an inner "awwwwwwww;" dreamy gazes while Bee shovels Chunky Monkey in her face while wearing a formal only serve to cement that moment in my mind for the time when she's doing that same thing in a city far far away; a kiss on the cheek or a hug out of nowhere creates a sensory memory for me as well as my babies. We can each draw on those memories when the craving for the touch of family simply can't be fulfilled with the real thing.

10. Being thankful. Thankful for bleacher-butt, empty pantries, stolen moments, battles of will, unflattering Gildan t-shirts, no hot water on a Saturday morning, the discovery of 12-piece place settings under someone's bed, recruiting calls during dinner, Sponge Bob marathons, Scary Movie Sundays, rambling dissertations on teenage social and cultural norms, poor choices, good choices, great choices, late nights, early mornings, poor fashion decisions, awesome fashion decisions, wheedling, bargaining, and the need for more gas money.

Opinions differ on poor v awesome fashion...

...but not always.

 Most importantly, I will spend the coming months and years being thankful that these two people that I made have turned out to be more awesome than I ever anticipated and knowing that I have done all I can do to set them up for success. 

And I think it's safe to say that neither ornithology nor latch-hook will become part of my repertoire.