Even though I love to shout my opinions far and wide, it may come as a surprise to some of you that I can be a pretty serious lurker as well. I lurk on some blogs, but more likely I’m lurking on message boards for a wide variety of topics. I enjoy message boards, but with keeping up with so many blogs, I don’t feel I have the time to invest in getting to know everyone on a message board. So I read, occasionally feel the urge to post but suppress it, and enjoy my little one-sided glimpse into the world of others while I keep to the shadows.

Lately I’ve found myself lurking on a pregnancy message board, and a topic that came up over the past few weeks really surprised me. Someone asked the group how long each of them would be taking off for maternity leave. I expected to read that most of these women, well, the ones living in the US, at least (lucky Canadians and your year of paid leave!), would be taking as close to 12 weeks off as possible, per FMLA guidelines. However, my jaw hit the keyboard when I realized what the most common answer was:

2-4 weeks.

At first I thought, are they serious? You can’t possibly be healed and ready to go back to life as normal at 2 weeks postpartum. But many of them were serious – unhappily serious. I don’t think a single woman said she wanted to return to work that early, and if given the choice would stay home longer. The primary reasons for returning so early: money and job loss.

For those not in the US, the Family & Medical Leave Act (FMLA) guarantees the American worker 12 weeks of unpaid leave per year to care for a family member or for your own medical condition, without fear of losing your job. Except that it’s not quite that simple. Your job as it stands before you leave is not guaranteed – your employer must simply provide you with an equal job when you return. And if you have worked at a company for less than a year, worked less than 1,250 hours that year, or your company has less than 50 employees, the law does not apply to you, and you have no legal right to time off, unless your employer is kind enough to offer it. If you are not covered under FMLA, an employer has the ability to fire you for missing even a week of work, if you do not have the paid time off available to cover it.

Then there is the money issue. FMLA is unpaid leave, and aside from California, there is no guaranteed short term disability provided by the government. Also, while your employer is legally required to continue paying for your health insurance while you are on leave, if you had to pay a regular premium for it each month (which is common), you are still responsible for paying that premium while on leave.

Some employers do offer short-term disability insurance, which generally provides 6 weeks of paid leave (as long as your doctor thinks it is medically necessary for you to be off work), although the pay is generally at 50-65% of your regular income. And there is still the rare employer out there who offers fully-paid leave, although again generally for only 6 weeks.

So it is easy to see how some of these women are forced into situations where they cannot afford to take the time off for maternity leave, and must return to work as soon as their vacation/sick time runs out for fear of losing their jobs, or being unable to pay their bills. And to add to their stress, many childcare centers in the US refuse to accept children under 6 weeks old, leaving them stuck to find childcare until their baby is old enough to meet the requirements. Many find unlicensed in-home caregivers to fill that void, and simply hope for the best.

With Cordelia, I worked for a company that was large enough to give me FMLA time off. I opted into the short-term disability plan, and paid my $32 a month long before I had Cordy to provide me with paid time off at 60% of my salary, should I decide to have a baby. When it came time for my maternity leave, I took 11 weeks off. The first 2 weeks were the “waiting period” required for my short-term disability before it would kick in, which I filled with sick and vacation time that I had been saving up. The next 8 weeks were paid at 60% of my salary per my short-term disability insurance. (Due to a c-section, I had 8 weeks paid. If I had a vaginal delivery, it would have only been 6 weeks.) The final week was unpaid, and by that point, our finances were slowly crumbling from the loss of income, and I needed to get back to work.

And don’t even get me started on paternity leave. Aaron got 4 days off.

It amazes me that the US can spend hundreds of billions of dollars on an unnecessary war, yet we can’t provide simple social services to give our children the best start in their lives. We clearly are one of the most backwards countries in the world. Isn’t it better for a newborn – who is just learning how to regulate its temperature, how to breathe, how to eat, and how to survive – to be with its mother and father for those precious first months, than to be with someone who may enjoy the baby, but in the end is only paid to care for it? Studies have shown that infant mortality decreases when women are given more paid maternity leave. Are we really so callous as to prefer to deal with the problems of higher infant mortality rather than try to prevent problems from happening in the first place?

And I have to applaud California for taking the step to provide paid family leave to its residents. Everyone in CA has a small deduction from their paycheck (Average of $46 annually per worker) to fund the program, so it isn’t costing the government or the employers anything. Some may argue that they don’t plan to have children, and don’t like subsidizing the maternity leave of others, but this is not just for maternity leave – it is for anyone who needs to care for an ill family member, and could benefit any person. Besides, we already pay for other social services that many of us may never use: unemployment, Medicare, etc. But if you suddenly find yourself in hardship, those services are a blessing.

The United States needs a national paid maternity leave plan, and clearly FMLA is not doing enough to help families get the time off they need with their newborns. I would happily pay a small deduction from my paycheck to fund this program, even knowing that I would probably never benefit from it, since baby #2 is likely my last child. Saving other women from having to push themselves back to work before their bodies have healed, and letting them spend a little more time at home with their newborn children is worth it. Having to go back to work 2 weeks postpartum is criminal.

As for me, our finances are a little tighter this time around, so we’re still not sure how much time off I’ll be able to take. It all depends on when I have this baby. Our short-term disability payments are determined by years of service. If I have this baby before May 23 (my due date is May 21), I will get 6 weeks, part paid at 100%, and the remainder at 66%. If I have the baby after May 23, I will again have 6 weeks, but all of it will be paid at 100%. I can then take another 6 weeks unpaid if I want, but most likely I’ll be unable to take the full 6 weeks.

Did you know the Department of Labor is launching a study about whether or not to scale back FMLA? MomsRising.org is asking for your FMLA stories and will send them on to the Dept. of Labor to urge them to expand FMLA, not scale it back.

First off, thank you so much to everyone for posting a comment on my last post. It was wonderful to “see” so many new visitors, as well as those I see occasionally, and my regulars. I’ve got a ton of new blogs to visit now, so expect to see me stopping by in the next week or two. And even if you don’t have a blog, thanks for letting me know you’re reading. Blog writers are attention-whores, and it feels good to know people enjoy our writing.

We arrived home from Chicago this morning a little after 3am, so I’m still trying to adjust to being home again. The drive back was horrible – rain, heavy rain, and torrential rain, but we were determined to get out of Chicago before the rain switched over to ice and snow up there.

Aaron’s workshop was held in a different location this year. While I enjoyed staying in downtown Chicago for the past four years, right across the street from Grant Park and in easy walking distance of the Art Institute, Field Museum, and Shedd Aquarium, this year the need for additional space moved the workshop out to Elgin, IL. Elgin is on the outskirts of Chicago, and about the only attractions near it are riverboat casinos, and lots of shopping in nearby Schaumburg.

So this year I did not get to visit any cultural sites. But I did do a lot of shopping – although most of it window shopping – at Woodfield Mall, and at my personal consumer mecca of Ikea. Cordy got a few new items from Ikea, including the easel I’ve been trying to buy her for two years. (It’s usually not in stock.)

The best moments of the weekend were getting to visit with old and new friends. The old friends were my college roommate and her husband, and Aaron and I met them for a wonderful dinner at a microbrewery in the area on Saturday night. The men were pleasantly surprised to find this restaurant/microbrewery offered a sampler of all the specialty beers they offered, and they spent a good deal of the evening comparing the different beers while Shannon and I enjoyed our root beer.

On Friday, I was lucky enough to meet up with Mrs. Fortune, and had the pleasure of doing lunch with her and baby Jacob at The Cheesecake Factory. Good food and good company!

We had a wonderful time chatting, and I can’t wait until the chaos of moving is over for her, and she can resume writing again. Jacob is simply adorable, and did a perfect Hollywood celebrity job of flirting with and charming everyone who came within ten feet.

I also greatly enjoyed sleeping in, taking full advantage of the king size bed and wishing we had one of those at home. The hotel was much nicer than the one we have stayed in during past years, and so I didn’t mind spending a little time relaxing there, even if I did forget that they had an indoor pool and left my bathing suit at home.

We also felt baby #2’s first kicks on Sunday. She was particularly smart to time it well, performing in the morning before Aaron left for the day, giving him the chance to feel it as well. After that, she again went quiet for the remainder of the trip.

Thankfully, Cordy barely noticed we were gone. She asked about us once or twice during the weekend, according to my mom, but otherwise went about her normal routine of quoting episodes of Dora and throwing her beach balls. When I would talk to my mom, I asked to talk to Cordy each time, but each time she laughed and pushed the phone away when my mom offered it to her.

However, she was happy to see us today. When I came downstairs this morning, I was greeting by a smiling little face as she climbed into my lap and hugged me. She seems no worse for us being gone for several days, although she has picked up a few new bad habits while we were gone. It seems our easy bedtime toddler is gone, as Cordy is learning the stall techniques other kids employ. She now wants to read her books more than once, and spends a lot of time trying to decide which toys she wants to take to bed. This is prolonging the bedtime routine by at least a half hour now.

And she looked at Aaron and I today, and started singing, “I wuv youuuu, youuuu wuv meeee!” I looked at Aaron and said, “She didn’t just say what I think she said.” I don’t know how she learned it, but the damn purple dinosaur seems to have infiltrated our toddler’s mind while we were gone. I don’t know if it was my mom who let her see it, or if it was Aaron’s dad when he watched her on Sunday. But a bounty will soon be offered to find the person responsible for inviting this menace into our home, after we worked so hard to pretend it didn’t exist for over two years.

I was caught totally unaware that it was De-lurking Week. This is the week for all of you who read this, but don’t normally chime in to say hi and let me know you exist. If I had as many comments as I do visitors, I’d have over a hundred comments a day.

I’m not asking for anything too crazy – if you’re shy, a simple hello works fine. If you want to tell me a little more about yourself, go for it. And if you want to tell me what you’d like to see me write about, I’d be happy for the suggestions. See? All friendly and happy and non-threatening.

Tomorrow I’m going out of town for the weekend. Without Cordelia. I can’t decide if I want to cheer or cry. It’s a long weekend of sleeping in, going to the bathroom without an audience, eating meals without sharing, and shopping leisurely. But it’s also a weekend without that smiling face, those playful curls, that warm little body sitting on my lap, and the constant exclamations of “Hi, mommy!” She would come with me, but we all remember how traveling to Chicago went last year.

So I will be leaving her at home, and hoping that she will manage without me and won’t miss me too much. And while I will revel in sleeping past 6:30am each morning, I will still be calling at least twice a day to talk to her on the phone.

Since I’m still getting over the new year’s ick, I think it’s time for a meme. Kate tagged me to come up with five things you don’t already know about me. I’ve done this once before, and I can’t even remember what I wrote, so I guess this time I’d better dig deep to think up some juicy tidbits to make it worth reading.

Five Things You Didn’t Know About Me (pre-mommy days):

1. I’ve been “kidnapped” once in my life, and nearly kidnapped a second time. The first time wasn’t technically a kidnapping, since it was by my father, while my parents were still married, but just after mom asked for a divorce. I was a year old, so of course I don’t remember any of it, and the entire ordeal lasted a day or two. The second time was when I was eight, I think, and it was a stranger trying to kidnap me as I walked to my babysitter’s house from the community pool. It was a very scary experience, and changed the way I thought about people. I can tell the story one of these days, if you’d like.

2. I am an uber klutz. In fifth grade, I broke my arm because I was late for my patrol stop. Fifth graders were allowed to serve as crossing guards for the other kids, and that morning I was running a little late, so I took off running for my assigned intersection, carrying my pole with the little crosswalk flag on the end. Back then, the poles were long poles – I’m one of the reasons the State of Ohio shortened the poles. As I was running, somehow the pole got caught up in my legs, and I crashed down onto the sidewalk face-first, with my very heavy bookbag falling forward onto my head and left arm. My mom didn’t think I was hurt, but took me to the hospital just to be sure. Turns out, my arm was broken, and I had to go back to class that day and tell the entire class how I broke my arm. It was humiliating.

3. I was clipped by a British billy-club once. I spent a summer in England going to school, and it happened to be the same summer for the Euro ’96 soccer tournament. Arguably, the most famous game of that summer was England vs. Scotland. It was the first time they had played each other in many, many years, and my friends and I watched the game at the local pub in London. After Scotland lost, there were reports that the Scots fans were gathering in Trafalgar Square and rioting, so of course I grabbed my camera and decided to go be a part of the action, just for fun. (Note: my friends thought me crazy, and did not tag along. They were the smart ones.)

When I got to the square, it was a sea of people in kilts and tartans, many drunk, a few belligerent, but most in a cheerful mood as they climbed onto Nelson’s monument, held up the Scottish flag and sang songs (I have great pics of this, but they’re not scanned yet). Then the police arrived in riot gear, and things turned ugly. By that point, the police had surrounded the square, and no one was allowed in or out, so I was trapped with them. A few of the belligerent ones started throwing beer bottles at the cops, and in return the police would occasionally rush the crowd in a line, hitting everyone they could. I didn’t run fast enough one of the times, and was barely hit in the back by one of their clubs. Not hard enough to do damage, but it did sting.

4. The song Summer Nights from Grease caused me to get into a car accident once. Aaron and I were dating at the time, and we really enjoyed singing duets from musicals while in the car for long drives. When this song came on, we both really got into singing the parts, and so right at the best part of the song (when all the background singers are singing along as well), neither of us noticed the car in front of us suddenly stop to turn left until it was too late. I hit the brakes as hard as I could, which prevented major damage, but we still hit the car with a solid thump. Thankfully, there was no visible damage, and insurance did not need to be notified.

5. The very first time I ever got drunk was not by choice. I was 16, and a friend was throwing a New Year’s Eve party, with her parents gone for the night. I had gone to the bathroom while she and my other friends were mixing up the punch, and so I didn’t see them pour all of the alcohol into the punch. Now, you should know at this point that I really like punch. So as I took a drink from the first glass of the night, I thought it tasted funny and asked them what was in it. They, of course, realized just then that I had never had alcohol before. “Have you ever had pineapple juice,” they asked. “No, not really,” I replied. They convinced me it was the pineapple and other tropical juices I was tasting, and I believed them.

Many, many glasses later, I was drunk, and seriously flirting with a guy over 4 years older than me. And I barely remember that night, save for the pictures everyone took. Nothing scandalous happened – my clothing remained on, and I only got one kiss from the guy, but it certainly took me out of my shy-girl shell. It’s one of only two times in my life when I’ve ever had so much alcohol I didn’t remember everything – the other time is a story for another day.

So, was that interesting enough to keep your attention?

Today is January 5, 2007. Here in Ohio, the normal high for today is 36 degrees F, and the normal low is 21 degrees F. Snow or ice is common at this time of year.

Today’s high? 61 degrees. The low? 52 degrees.

And it’s been like this for weeks. Two days before the New Year, I was driving around without a coat, with the windows down, basking in the sunshine. One day, the local news reported that the high for the day was higher than the daily high for Arizona.

The grass is greening again. The robins are either still here or back from the south, some plants are beginning to bud, and nature herself can’t figure out what season it is.

I have to keep rotating the same outfits in Cordy’s wardrobe because it’s too damn warm for her winter clothes. Had I know we were skipping winter entirely and going straight to spring, I might have bought her less sweaters and fleece pants and more light cottons.

I’m not saying I want a Colorado blizzard or anything, but how about something a little more, well, winter-like? I enjoy a little snow now and then (especially on days when I don’t have to drive in it), and wearing warm sweaters, wrapping up in blankets by the fire and drinking hot chocolate are all part of January to me. I grew up in this area, and this is the warmest year I can remember.

So for those who say there is no such thing as global warming, I say stuff it. I want my winter back.