What makes a good manager

A friend of mine told me that he was tired of reading about what makes a bad manager, he wanted to know what made a good manager. Fair enough, it is easy to criticize but not as easy to reflect on the positives. I've experienced my fair share of bad managers, but of course that is subjective, isn't it? My bad manager is someone else's good manager. I did some research and decided that I would make a list (of course!) and allow others to add to it in the comments.

A good manager...

1. creates rules to govern how activities are to be conducted and those rules are uniformly enforced but not so rigid as to be draconian,
2. does not have favorites who are above the rules nor sets him/herself above those rules,
3. allows open dialogue with employees that is respectful even if what is being suggested can not happen,
4. provides regular praise to employees who consistently complete assigned tasks and encourages others to reach toward their goals,
5. celebrates employee's milestones, helping to create a positive environment,
6. prevents assistant managers from conducting business in such a way that would undermine productivity,
7. assesses employee's contributions according to a clear criteria that is obtainable and not subjective,
8. listens to complaints from employees and objectively deals with them,
9. realizes that employees have lives outside of the office and does not make constant requests of that time unless it was a condition of employment,
10. follows the Golden Rule, because really, isn't that what we all want?

So I now invite you to add to the list.

When life hands you lemons...

                                                 
The winter of 2015 will go down in my personal history as the winter that my life changed. During the last gasping days of the never-ending winter, I slipped and fell on the ice at my school. Since that day, I have been stuck in a recliner when I am not going to my millionth doctor's appointment. I have had two epidural steroid shots that have been minimally helpful and will begin physical therapy tomorrow. Having a herniated disc in the L5/S1 region is quite painful and disruptive to life's day to day responsibilities.

So, how can this be made bearable? By simply looking at what I can now do that I was unable to do before when I was on the go. Here is my top ten list (in no particular order):

1. I have discovered that there is very little on daytime TV worth my time. The exception is The Steve Harvey Show. When Andy is home, he will watch this with me too! This injury has allowed me quiet time with my husband, even if it is watching daytime TV.
2. When my daughter was sent home for having a temperature today, I didn't need to take a sick day or make elaborate lesson plans so I could get her, and when she has to stay home tomorrow, I can do that too.
3. I have been able to go up three levels on Hay Day, the only "video game" I can handle.
4. I have written more on my blog!
5. I have discovered that I am a worse cook than I previously believed; or maybe I am just lazier than before.
6. My children have gotten more story time out of me. The day to day busyness of life before the injury meant I was exhausted at the end of the day, now I am able to read to them.
7. I can see my spring flowers in bloom, in the daylight. I can't remember when I have enjoyed the flowers
8. I have taken naps with the children. It sounds crazy, but it is something I look forward to doing. Snuggling in with my children has been a joy.
9. I have seen the cobwebs. I never saw the cobwebs in the house before because it was always late. To sit still long enough to see the cobwebs meant that I had truly sat still for more than five seconds. Once I am able to move a little better, the cobwebs will come down.
10. Speaking of cobwebs, I have been able to clear the cobwebs from my brain and I have begun to write again. Not just on my blog, but in general. I have noticed things that I had not before which has given my writing a depth it did not previously have. I will never be Diana Galbadon, but there is a novel in me yet.

I don't think I have enough sugar to make lemonade yet, but here's hoping that I will find more sweetness in PT as I heal.

Gluten free/ Chocolate free "Matzoh crack" for Passover

                          

My son can't have regular Passover food due to his EoE, so I had to make a few adjustments. This one is a variation to "Matzoh crack" for dessert. Why is it called "crack"? Well, let's just say it is so awesomely addictive that you will not be able to stop yourself from eating it!

I use Yehuda Gluten-free Matzoh:

What you need for the adapted recipe:

• One box of Yehuda Gluten free Matzo-style squares
• 2 sticks of butter
• 2 C packed brown sugar
• 2 C sliced almonds (optional)
• cookie sheet, sauce pan, parchment paper

What you do:

• Preheat oven to 250 degrees

• Line a cookie sheet with parchment paper and then place enough matzoh to cover all the parchment. You can break up matzoh, but don't use pieces smaller than 2"x 2". Set aside.

• Melt butter in a saucepan over medium-low heat. Add brown sugar and immediately reduce the temperature to low. Cook while stirring, adjust the heat as needed so that the sugar is completely dissolved and begins to bubble (makes it toffee), but you don't want this to be done too quickly, it should take about 10 minutes.

•  Drizzle the toffee over the matzoh and spread to cover using a rubber spatula. Put a second layer of matzoh and drizzle toffee again. Repeat until all toffee is used. Make sure you have enough to spread over the top, then sprinkle with almonds.

• Transfer cookie sheet to the oven for 10 to 20 minutes until the toffee gets a sheen

• Remove from the oven, let cool completely (can use refrigerator), and break up into small pieces.

• I use plastic snack bags to divide the "crack" into reasonable portions; trust me, I am saving you from yourself!

• I store them in the refrigerator.

To make with chocolate, you will need 2 C of semi-sweet chocolate morsels. You will wait to put the almonds until after the chocolate is added. To add the chocolate, when you take the matzoh from the oven, sprinkle the chips onto the matzoh, allow to melt for about a minute, and then spread the chocolate around with a spatula, then sprinkle with the almonds.

Here is where the original recipe can be found:

http://www.marthastewart.com/319427/homemade-toffee-chocolate-matzah?backto=true

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Having it all- part two

Charles walked in the door and looked around. He saw that the children were playing quietly in the living room and heard his wife in the kitchen fixing dinner. The lack of crunching underfoot meant that the foyer and living room had been vacuumed. He allowed a self-satisfied smirk to cross his lips and thought you did well my man, and sat down in his recliner, not bothering to greet anyone. He recalled that the house had been so cluttered that morning he would have been embarrassed to have guests, but now, while not perfect, it was noticeably better. I wonder if I out-waited her on the laundry too? he thought as he settled down into his chair.

"What are you making for dinner?" he yelled in the direction of the kitchen.

"Hello to you too, dear," Catherine responded. "I am making roasted chicken, broccoli, and mashed potatoes."

Upon hearing her father's voice, Michelle, their eight year old daughter, leaped up and ran to him for a hug. She snuggled onto his lap and asked, "How was your day Daddy?"

"It was long and tiring, but it's better now since seeing you!" he responded giving her a hug and a kiss. Catherine, listening from the kitchen, shook her head in disbelief. I worked the entire day on my day off to clean this house, I'm cooking dinner, and he gives Michelle the greeting I should be getting?she thought as she slammed down the potato masher, the sting of tears making her blink several times.

Brian, not wanting to be left out, wiggled into a space on Charles' lap, giving him a hug. Charles rewarded his efforts with a hug and a kiss too.

"How's my little man today?"

"Good Daddy! We helped Mommy all day with cleaning, doesn't the house look great?"

"You two did a great job!" Charles exclaimed, giving his children additional hugs, kisses, and tickles.

"Stop Daddy!" they giggled, but did not wiggle free, enjoying the attention too much.

In the kitchen, Catherine fumed. Why do I bother? I work all week, take care of the children when they aren't at school, take care of the house, cook dinner, and who knows what else, and I can't even get a proper greeting? She went to the dining room and finished setting the table while fighting back tears. Once dinner was ready, Catherine set up the children's plates, cutting up the chicken, counting out the broccoli florets so that Brian only had five and Michelle had eight, and they had the same amount of mashed potatoes to minimize an argument. Having completed dishing out the meal and placing the plates at the table, she went to the bathroom to wash her face and clear her mind.

On the way back, she paused in the living room to announce dinner, but what she saw, calmed her. Charles was sitting in the recliner, Brian on his left and Michelle on his right, both snuggled against his shoulders, as he read them a book. Why does he have to do something so sweet when I am so angry at him? she thought. Catherine sighed, letting go of the anger. It does no good to be angry with with him, especially when he was being such a great father. What we need is to sit down and discuss how the division of labor is far from equitable. Satisfied with that thought, she smiled and announced dinner.

After the children were tucked into bed, Catherine broached the subject. "Do you know why the house has been a little chaotic the last few months?"

"You didn't feel like cleaning?"

Frowning, she replied, "No it was more than that, it was because I was feeling unappreciated."

Sighing, Charles looked at his wife, wondering if this was going to be a quarrel. "I appreciate you, dear, why do you think I don't?" Darn, maybe I didn't win the battle, he thought. 

"I work a full-time job just like you, but for some reason the housework falls to me. I tried to go on strike to see if you would step up and help out, but that didn't work. Brian thought I didn't love the family or the house anymore because I stopped putting away laundry and caring about how clean the house was. I know you work hard, but so do I. I don't get a break when I am home. I would love to sit in the recliner, watch TV, and have the house work done by someone else, but the last few weeks have proven that won't happen. Maybe it was unfair to think this in your direction with the hope that you would pick it up psychically, but now I think we should have that talk."

She paused briefly hoping that the emotions she was feeling would remain under control so that Charles would take her seriously.

"We need my paycheck as much as we need yours. I am asking for your help. I love that you are willing to sit with the children to read them a book or go outside to play so that I can concentrate, but I need your help with getting things done as well. Michelle and Brian helped today, but having another adult working with me would be wonderful. I shouldn't have to spend all my spare time cleaning. Plus, when you come home, you greet the children, but it has been months since you greeted me."

She stopped again and looked at him, worried that last part came out too whiny and teenager-ish, but after a long day of working, having a hug and a kiss from her life's partner was something she looked forward to and had missed.

Charles looked at his wife, taking in the whole image. It was as if he had not seen her clearly for some time: he noticed the furrowed brow that had begun to make deep lines, the gray hair along the temples, the dark shadows under her eyes, the glassy and bloodshot eyes that were trying to hold back tears, and the plaintive expression on her face. Had he done this to his wife? he thought. He then felt guilty about out-waiting her on the housework and laundry, and the other week when he took the children away for the day so she could work, but then fussed at her when she took the time to pamper herself. She's right, we couldn't live on my pay alone, her paycheck is 50% of the household income, but she is doing 95% of the housekeeping.

Charles walked over to Catherine and enfolded her in an embrace. Catherine clung to him, crying the tears that she had been suppressing all day.

"I'm sorry, you're right, I have been taking you for granted. It is unfair that I am not helping around the house when we both work full-time jobs. I promise to do better. When we got married it was supposed to be a partnership, 50-50, and it will be again. I love you and the children. I don't want you to ever feel this way again."

He bent his head to give her a kiss, and then whispered in her ear, "It is you and me, Charlie and Cathy, against the world, just like I promised you ten years ago."

"As it should be," she sighed and gave him a kiss.

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Having it all- a short story told in two parts

Catherine folded laundry in the basement of her perfectly adequate single family home. Her life could be summed up by the pairs of underwear- male and female- she folded: plain, simple, uninspiring.

She turned off the light in the dimly lit laundry room and carried the basket up the steps from the basement to the main floor. Light poured into the family room from the bay window at the front of the house. She looked at her family- husband asleep in the recliner, daughter watching her favorite cartoon, and son playing with his matchbox cars- and smiled. They were the perfect nuclear American family and yet something was missing. As she rounded the corner to go up the next set of stairs to their bedrooms, not a single person looked in her direction. She paused with one foot resting on the bottom step waiting for someone to acknowledge that she had walked through the room, but no one seemed to notice.

"Well then," she mumbled, "I see that no one notices me anymore. I think I will just leave the laundry here in the basket and see how long before they notice that!"

But two weeks passed and no one noticed. No one noticed the other baskets of laundry being dumped on top of the previous ones. As long as the children had socks and underwear and clean clothing to wear, no one noticed that the house was beginning to look like a laundry-mat exploded.

There were other things, too, that frustrated Catherine. The kitchen sink would be full of dishes even though the dishwasher was empty. Groceries were bought and put away and nary a word was mentioned unless a favorite treat was exhausted before being quickly replaced.

Where did I go wrong? she mused. Where did I lose sight of my hopes and dreams for a loving and engaging family life? Where is my Hallmark Family?

Each morning she got up at 5 am to finish cleaning anything that was missed the night before, packed lunches and backpacks, and brewed a pot of coffee. The family slept peacefully for another hour and a half so that they got enough sleep. On days that her husband did not have to go in to work as early, he took the children to the bus stop, but on the rest of the days, Catherine had to take the children to a before-school program and then hurry home to meet them when they got off the bus. The daily grind was just that- a grind.

A month after the laundry began to pile up, Charles, her husband, asked a question,then made a comment, and finally a suggestion. "Why aren't you taking care of the laundry? You know we can't have anyone over to the house because you aren't keeping up with the cleaning. Maybe you should take a day off from work to clean the house."

Catherine looked at Charles and responded, "Why don't you?"

"What?"

"Why don't you take a day off from work and clean the house?"

"Why would I do that? I work hard all day, the last thing I want to do is take a day off to clean. Oh, I get it, you were being rhetorical. Okay, okay, this Sunday I will take the children somewhere so you can get some work done." he responded as he walked into the next room. He was done discussing it.

An afternoon to myself? What will I do? I could get the laundry sorted and the living room vacuumed, but I don't think I am going to do that. I think I deserve to be pampered a little bit!she thought while she hummed a little off-key tune to herself.

Sunday came and went, the laundry was still piled high, the dishes were in the sink, and the living room floor was getting decidedly crunchy. However, Catherine had a new Mani-pedi and hairstyle.

"What did you do?" Charles fumed. "I gave you an afternoon to get caught up. I took the children out for the day so you could clean the house, not get your nails done!"

"I work hard all week and thought that getting a little bit of me-time would make me feel happier," she responded. "Maybe you can take the children again this coming weekend. I'm sure that I will be able to get something done."

"I can't, I am going down to my brother's to watch the game."

The detente was strained. The laundry was barely being addressed, and the overall cleanliness of the house was deteriorating. The children did not notice. As long as they had clean clothes, food to eat, toys, cartoons, and a bedtime story, they were content; or so it seemed.

One day, two months after Catherine's strike began and on her day off, Brian, their six year old son, climbed onto his mother's lap and asked "Why don't you love us anymore?"

"What makes you say that?" Catherine nervously laughed. "Of course I love you!"

"You don't like the house then?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Well, you used to clean all the time. When we got home from school, you cooked dinner, and then cleaned up. When we got up in the morning, you had cleaned more. You also liked doing the laundry, why do you hate it all so much?"

"Oh, you thought I liked to clean and do laundry because I was doing it so much?" she inquired.

"Why else would you do it?"

"To show that I cared for my family... Oh, now I see," she murmured. "If I stopped doing those things, I must no longer love you, is that it?"

"Yes," he responded shyly.

"No, it doesn't mean that I no longer love you or the family or the house. It means that Mommy is tired of doing it all. Mommy is tired of no one noticing all that she does and how hard she works. When I stopped cleaning all the time I was able to spend a little more time with you and your sister. I read extra stories and I even baked your favorite cookies. I stopped cleaning so much because I didn't think it mattered to anyone."

"It does matter Mommy. Do you want me to help you put away laundry? I don't think there is anything in my drawers or closet anymore. It should be easy to do."

"Thank you my love, I would love some help."

With a lighter heart, Catherine took Brian's hand in hers and walked upstairs to tackle the laundry monster.

When Charles got home from work he noticed that the laundry was finally put away and that the living room was vacuumed. Ha, he thought, I knew I could out-wait her!

(to be continued)

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Job charts for the children

For those who know me, I have been vocal on how crazy my children have been lately. I am home right now recovering from an injury to my back and the children are making my recovery more challenging. How? Well, nothing says pain like tripping over My Little Pony figurines or stepping on Legos when one's back is already hurting.

To regain my sanity (and to reduce the chances of hurting myself more) I made job charts for my children.

From the categories, you know what my children are struggling with. Miriam is nearly eight years old and we are still having issues with listening, picking up toys, and being kind to her brother. Benjamin is five years old and due to his medical condition, we still struggle with potty training, but the tantrums are ruling our lives right now.

I sat down with the children and explained what I was going to do and why. I also asked them what categories I should have to see if we were on the same page. Miriam was old enough to figure out that what I am fussing about is what I want done whereas Ben needed some nudging. Once we had the categories done, we agreed on a reward system. If reading about B.F. Skinner taught me anything, it was that we need to shape the behavior we want and if you want a behavior to last, punishment is not how you make it last, reward is the key. Now, with three years difference, the goals needed to be obtainable, so for Miriam, if she gets a magnet in each day for a category she gets a sticker. When she has three stickers at the end of a week, she gets a prize. After two weeks, she will need to get four stickers to get a prize. After four weeks, it will be five stickers. And finally, after six weeks, she will need six stickers to get a reward. Once we are up to the behaviors I wish to have for the week, the long term goal will be to maintain them, so I will up the ante: it will take more stickers to get bigger rewards. I can also change the categories to include more age appropriate categories and give an allowance. For Ben, the system will be the same except he still gets a sticker for a category if he misses two days in the week and he starts with only needing  two stickers to get a prize. The added bonus was that we discuss our day before going to bed which is a nice summary skill.

How did I make them? It was very easy and really quite cheap. What you will need (I had almost everything in my house, but you might have to stop off at the Dollar Tree and/or Kmart):

1. metal cookie sheet (Dollar Tree)
2. craft paint/ house paint (I used semi-gloss white house paint)
3. a flexible ruler for the lines
4. permanent markers (I had the children choose their colors)
5. magnets (enough for 7 x the number of categories; the most expensive part of the craft)
6. stickers
7. ribbon (to hang the chart off of)
8. hot glue gun and sticks (to glue the ribbon on)
9. hook (whatever kind you want for wherever you will hang the chart, I use 3M removable)
10. small prizes for the rewards

Once you have items assembled, paint the metal cookie sheet and allow to dry for about three hours. Using a flexible ruler, make the lines on the painted surface. I gave myself two inches of space at the top and then spaced lines one inch apart for the categories. I wrote the categories first and then gave myself about an inch square for each day of the week. Once all categories and days of the week are labeled, flip the cookie sheet over and hot glue the ribbon onto the back. I don't have a measurement, I eyeballed the length based on how low I wanted the chart to hang. I used 3M hooks on their bedroom doors. Done in less than four hours, and most of the time was waiting for the paint to dry!

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Update:

This is what was accomplished after one week.

Owning my imperfections

It sometimes seems as if my life careens wildly from one disaster to another. I wonder what other people's lives are like- quiet, serene, picture perfect?

Let's be honest, I am as far away from that of the magazine-mother as one can get, and my children are, well,  products of their mother. When I got married and had children, I thought I would be a great mom- I have a degree in Psychology and Education for goodness sake! What has happened has not been perfect, it has been exactly imperfect. How do I know how badly I am doing? I am constantly reminded of my inadequacies on Facebook. I see the photos of my friends' children as they dance, somersault, climb, ski, read, travel, explore, wander, and just live a better life than I can give my children. I must admit I am super jealous. I have read about how well other children listen to their mothers and pick up their toys. As much as I wish it to be true, I am not going to be Mother of the Year. Each day I am just trying to be Mother of the Moment. I am terrible at it, but I am trying.

I often wonder if other moms are going through the same issues; however, we have been conditioned to be our own family PR managers. We don't want to portray a less than perfect appearance whether it is on Facebook, Pinterest, a blog, or another social medium. I recently realized that others do not share their day to day nonsense from their lives, while I am an open book. I do not mean to over share, but I want to know that I am not alone in this crazy dance called motherhood. Coming to this state at an older age means that those who I would have asked have forgotten since they had their children when they were "supposed" to, and those who have children at a similar age to mine are looking to me for guidance!

I have two friends who are absolutely wonderful at this motherhood thing (I have others who rock and roll all things motherhood too, but these two are superhuman!). One is a successful lawyer, mother of three, and a nationally recognized writer. She bakes homemade goodies for her children who are the envy of those around them. In addition to this she is one of the nicest people you could ever meet. My other friend is a commercial property manager, mother of two wonderful boys who both have medical conditions, runs a side business, and makes sure that her children have fantastic opportunities that she usually gets at deep discounts because she is a coupon queen. Did I mention that her sons' birthday parties are creative, interactive, and completely homemade? She too is simply wonderful to be around. I look at all they do and wonder how they can do so much and be sane and nice. I feel like a troll who lives under a bridge raising her children in the wild compared to these two, but at the same time I know they have experienced the ups and downs of imperfect motherhood.

I will never achieve their level of awesomeness, but I'm okay with that. They don't rub it in my face that their children are better than mine or that their children's medical conditions are worse than my child's medical condition or otherwise make me feel inferior. I don't feel as if they are secretly thinking less of me because my son has injured himself for the umpteenth time this week or that my daughter has sassed me to the point that I am considering renting her out to my Amish neighbors to remind her of her cushy life.No, they support me and give me great advice with no side order of judgment.

Do I wish I was a better mom? Sure I do, but I am owning my imperfections. Once I began letting go what I thought others were able to achieve, it allowed me to see my children for the blessings they are. Will I still post things on Facebook? Of course, there needs to be at least one mom out there keeping it real, but I will no longer worry that my children are missing out compared to others. They are perfectly imperfect children and they are mine.

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