Spouse is a great guy. Among other features, he is the best roommate I’ve ever had. Love him and all that. But now that I’m spending more time managing the homestead, there’s a habit of his that’s making me just a little bit crazypants in my headholes.

When he uses a dish, he takes it to the sink, fills it with water and leaves it there full to the brim. Tea cup, salad plate, ice cream bowl, stew pot, roasting pan, baby bottle… whatever. He says he does this “so they can soak.” Which is patent bullshit and obfuscation. That glass had water in it, Spouse. How do you soak water off of a glass?

So, I’ve asked him nicely several times to please not leave me a sink full of dishes full of water.

And I come home to this.

I mean, seriously. It would be one thing to place a dish in the sink, wait for a few to accumulate, then do a big rinse and put them all in the dishwasher. No big. But if you’re going to fill them carefully and line them up? This is the maximum amount of effort one can expend while still not actually doing the dishes. This makes no sense to me.

To use the sink at all, I have to move these offerings, and always get my hands covered with dirty dishwater, so I have to wash my hands, so I may as well just fill the dishwasher… hey, wait a minute.

But I’m not sure Spouse even knows he’s doing it now. I think that I’ve now put a bug in his ear about “dishes full of water,” and subconsciously he’s trying to oblige. It’s all so tidy. That lineup on the right? Four baby bottles full of water, and four baby bottle caps also full of water. WTF?

How do I make it stop?

When I was in college, there was much discussion of the Dish Fairy. “What do you think? There’s some dish fairy that comes and cleans up after you?” Signs posted in the kitchens my friends shared with a cadre of house- and roommates were sometimes signed by this elusive dish fairy, and begged, cajoled or threatened the reader with bodily harm if they left dirty dishes in the sink.

I don’t think he’d respond well to notes from the dish fairy, so I’m going to try something I read about a couple of years ago. While researching a book about a school for animal trainers, this author learned a lot about positive reinforcement techniques. She tried them on her husband to get him to pick up his dirty socks, to great success. Her article in the New York Times was enormously popular (I remember it making quite a splash when it came out), and was the cause of much conversation around the office.

• Read “What Shamu Taught Me About A Happy Marriage”

Wish me luck.

You know you’ve been in DC too long when you know for a fact that this has happened before:

Northwest Washington residents capture runaway horse

“A runaway horse, without saddle, bridle or rider, galloped through the streets of upper Northwest Washington on Sunday evening, provoking concern and astonishment, and many calls to the police.”

My parents love to tell the following story from when I was a tiny kid, and we lived on Yuma Street in Northwest D.C.:

A Park Police horse got loose and went galloping up the street past our house. It was followed closely by a cop on a motorcycle. Apparently I was so taken by this that I pulled a little chair up to the window so I could watch for it to happen again.

Let it be known that I was not wrong! I just didn’t wait long enough.

So far, while trying to draft this blog post I have been interrupted three times. Just wanted to get that out there. Fast. Before, you know, I get interrupted.

Observation 1: Hardly Workin’ is Hard Work

I have always worked hard. Now, I’m not saying that it always went well, or that it was always brilliant work, but I did totally try. I’ve been on leave for six weeks now, after having the baby (yes – the one in the picture), and have managed to go from being a highly effective human with a full-time job, adequate social life, family obligations, correspondence, mildly successful blog project, and active freelance career to spending my days on my sofa with glazed eyes, a cup of tea that’s gone cold, and an ever-expanding to-do list.

Observation 2: Babies Are Both Easy and Exhausting

The actual elements of infant care don’t seem to be that complex. She has – essentially – four needs. Food, sleep, output management (diapers and burping) and love/interaction. I know how to meet each of these needs. Sometimes it takes a couple of attempts to identify the most pressing need of the moment, but I tend to achieve resolution pretty promptly. It’s great to feel like a success. On the other hand, she has one of these needs on average every 10 minutes, which makes it hard to get any momentum on any other activities. I say on average, because she could require an hour of constant tending, then be maintenance free for two hours… or five seconds. I never know.

For the first time in my life I’m tired without being stressed out. It’s a pretty nice feeling because unlike stress-related fatigue, it can be solved with sleep. It also doesn’t tie my stomach up in knots, give me hives or make me sweat and doubt myself. I’m tired, yeah. But pretty relaxed, all-told. S’nice.

Observation 3: Nobody knows what they’re talking about. Conversely, everybody knows what they’re talking about.

I noted this one before in my post introducing Veronica Rose, but it bears repeating.We’ve had a lot of flat-out contradictory advice from bona fide medical and baby-related professionals. And for some reason everyone’s mother wants us to give the baby water, while all medical professionals are against it. We’re siding with pros here., but I thought it was interesting.

I figure babies have to be sturdy so they survive first-time parents. Trusting your instincts seems to play a pretty big role here, as does getting to know your own personal infant. They may look at lot alike and have similar needs, but their preferences in need fulfillment apparently differ widely.

And that’s about all I can muster today. Am hoping to take the baby out for a walk in about two hours, which means I need to start my preparation sequence now. Don’t get me wrong – this is a pretty awesome gig so far, and I am crazy about the baby of course. And it’s all still so new that even this new shape of my days is interesting. I haven’t lived without a schedule before – or, more accurately, totally beholden to the arbitrary and demanding schedule of someone who can neither verbalize her motivations nor be reasoned or bargained with – and it’s at the same time frustrating and my pleasure to accommodate.

Omigod, she just smiled. What was I saying?

In a follow-up to my earlier post about Do More Great Work, author Michael Bungay Stanier has kindly agreed to answer a few questions and share some advice on how to make your work work for you.

Why am I finding this subject so captivating? My workplace philosophy so far has been “when in doubt, work harder.” It is slowly (yes yes, too slowly)  dawning on me that this is perhaps not always the answer and doesn’t produce the best results – for me personally or professionally, or for the work or my employer. In fact, I’d go so far as to say that it can even be – gasp – frustrating  when you feel like you’re working flat-out and not getting stellar results.

So, if I can beat myself up less while getting better results and improving my job satisfaction and the satisfaction of my job with me? That sounds pretty awesome.

Michael Bungay Stanier offers a strategy to focusing your efforts,

• Do More Great Work, the blog post
• Do More Great Work, the Web site

You’ve included 15 “maps” or hands-on exercises to help people identify their strengths and goals. Was there one really good one that didn’t make the cut?

Well, there’s a 16th map people can find at www.DoMoreGreatWork.com which is about “Who Really Matters?” and it helps you decide which relationships are most important for you to nourish

You mention in the book that you transitioned from a career in marketing to one in personal development and executive coaching. What was your “ah ha” moment, when you first saw your new path?

It was more an experience of whittling away what wasn’t right until I was left with what was. In some ways, I’ve been involved in coach-like activities for most of my life. One of the key tipping points was when I lost my job as an internal change agent within a big company, and I started Box of Crayons. Suddenly, the question of “what are you doing?” was more apparent.

In one of the exercises, you suggest making a list of people (real and fictional) we admire. I love your idea of thinking of them as a virtual board of advisers, helping us to chart our own best path. Care to tell us about one or two people on your board?

Sure thing. Buzz Lightyear – love his “to infinity and beyond” sense of anything is possible. Peter Block, who’s a brilliant writer about taking responsibilitiy for your choices. Guy Laliberte, the founder of Cirque du Soleil who combines creativity and joy with business savvy.

What’s the best piece of career advice you’ve ever received?

“Don’t take any advice.” I’m only half in jest when I say that. The most recent piece of wisdom that I find helpful is “make everything a project” – that makes the start and finish of things much clearer, rather than getting sucked into “business as usual”

And what’s the best piece of other advice? (cooking, home maintenance, school… whatever)

Last week Marshall Goldsmith said, you have a choice to be happy or not be happy. Chose to be happy.

Is it really that easy? Can the secret to professional fulfillment be found between these covers? Can Michael Bungay Stanier help me tweak my career? And recapture some of the glitter and shine that has – and this is totally my own fault – worn off over the millennia?

Should I even be talking about career enhancement in a public forum while I’m on maternity leave, or will this raise eyebrows at a workplace I haven’t been to in weeks? Er… let’s get back to the book.

Right off the bat I dig his style. The first page follows principles of good content delivery – it uses numbers to draw you in instantly and gives you a road map for what to expect:”…share four tips… suggest three things you can do… and finally I’ll share the first of fifteen maps…” You know what’s coming and that it’s been thoughtfully organized. This is not going to be a meandering journey, which is great because you’re probably reading this in the first place because you are in a state of general frustration. I like this guy.

The thesis is that there are three kinds of work:

Bad Work: Stupid meetings, outdated procedures, busywork that doesn’t help anyone. It’s soul-sucking, demoralizing and hugely frustrating. It wastes time, money and energy.

Good Work: Work that you can do happily enough, but that doesn’t really light your fire or move your professional ball forward. We all do a bunch of this – it’s necessary, it can be comforting in a habit-y kind of a way and it’s a big part of what keeps the doors open at your company. If you’re reasonably lucky, you’ll spend most of your time doing Good Work.

Great Work: This is the exciting, meaningful stuff that makes a difference to you, to your colleagues and your field. This is where innovation happens. We could all use more of this.

This is a pretty exciting concept, and is an interesting way to categorize all of the elements of your workday. We spend a lot of time on the job, and who wants to just trudge through large swaths of your waking life? Great Work, however, comes with risks. When you’re pushing the envelope and taking things to the next level, not all of them will be successful. Successful Great Work will come from people who have developed their expertise. In other words, Great Work is built on a foundation of Good Work.

The Secret to Meetings

In particular, his position on meetings is alluring. It’s revolutionary. It’s enticing. It’s: Don’t. Meetings, he posits, are a waste of time and energy. While we almost certainly can’t just do away with them categorically, I do agree that we have too many meetings generally – many of which are inefficient and some of which are downright coma-inducing.

The Road to Spiffy

The section on innovation also speaks to me – namely the concept that you can’t innovate on a dime. Often, we work away, trudging more or less effectively through the day, churning out great piles of Good Work, which we do well. And then, once in a while, we are summoned to come up with great ideas. In a group setting. Preferably before 3:00. This, he posits, is not a recipe for Great Work. Starting fast with a cold engine, and working in a committee can stifle the boldest, most creative ideas. Even if they’re functionally impossible, the fringe is where inspiration happens. You can always rein in something that’s just too crazy, and wind up in an awesome and viable position. It’s much harder to spiff up a dull idea. You have to start from your spiffiest position, you know?

Portable Context

Do More Great Work offers a framework to take you out of your usual Good Work thinkery – to see outside of the rut of the competent. It’s a tool to help you define Great Work, identify opportunities, chart your path, and even get back on track when challenges derail you. The inspiration, work and risk must be yours, of course, but career satisfaction is a tantalizing goal.

• Do More Great Work – The Web site
• Cute or HR – Bad work at work.
• BookGraf on Facebook: Good books? Great company? No effort? What’s not to like?

What’s the best piece of career advice you’ve ever received?

I’ve been a mom for three whole weeks now. I think we can all agree that this makes me an expert on all things child-related. In fact, at the 1.5 week mark, we got excused from our next pediatrician appointment because Veronica hit all of her benchmarks early. Clearly, she is very talented and far ahead of her peers. Let it be known that I totally win at babies.

Which isn’t to say that I don’t still have a thing or two to learn, and Michelle brings us some great advice to help us all sleep better at night. I, for one, am intensely grateful.

Filed under sleep training:

1. Don’t read the soul-crushing, guilt-inducing beginning of the chapter on sleep in the Sears Baby Book. Don’t touch it! It’s evil, like the stuff in the toaster at the end of Time Bandits! (If you don’t want to sleep train, I totally respect that. But I frown on anything that lays guilt on that thick.)

2. Sleep train before you reach your breaking point. Believe me. I waited too long. No one wants to see your breaking point.

3. Make a contract with your S.O. or anyone else who might be around during the night. The contract lays out the rules: When we pick the baby up, how often we check in, how long we let this whole crying thing go on. Sign the contract in blood. It is unbreakable til morn. You will spare yourself many 3 am “You’re breaking our baby!” fights this way.

4. Once the baby sleeps through the night, you will forget how hard it was. Write down what you did — with minute-by-minute detail — so you can help another new parent get through it.

Have you got a great life lesson to share? Did a mentor, teacher or song lyric change your life?

Now that Veronica Rose is on the scene, settled and cheerfully gaining weight and people skills, it seemed like a good time to share some sweet thoughts from a very fine friend. Susan reminds us of temporal reality, and that the only sure thing is that nothing is forever.

This too shall pass – the errant shiny penny on the coffee table picked up by two little three-year-old fingers out of sheer curiosity and… down the hatch. “My knee! My knee!” “Oh, does your knee hurt?” Wait a minute, wasn’t there a penny (mah-nee) here a minute ago! As per the nurses/moms, chase it with a few little bites of soft white bread to make sure it’s not stuck and then keep an eye out for it (for what feels like much, much too long). This will surprise you (and make you laugh once you stop panicking) just as much as watching your kid pick up a spoon and hang it off her nose the very first time she gives it a try. It’s important to leave time and space to sometimes just watch and be surprised by what your kid can do and be there when they turn around to make sure you were watching.

Now, what I really love about this sweet story is that it is actually several bits of advice very cleverly rolled up into one. Mind your pennies, follow an unusual snack with something soft to make sure it got down safely, keep your sense of humor about you and make time to make memories.

The inexorable march of time and its curative powers have turned into a bit of a theme for the advice project – and this post reminded me of Alison’s note to pay attention, as the good, the bad and the ugly all pass at the same rate. Things are going to change. Whether they started off good, bad or ugly, the only sure thing is change.

Have something to add?

Introducing Veronica Rose [Spouse's last name].

• Born March 1, 2010
• 6 lbs, 13 oz
• The nurses gave her a gold star for her incredible head of hair (not pictured).

Am hoping not to make a habit of blogging about the minutiae of new parenthood. There are lots of people who do this really well, and it’s not my niche. But… maybe… once in a while…

In the spirit of science, here are some initial observations.

• No matter what you tell your mother in the months before your water breaks (or the 35 years of your prior acquaintance), she will still want to stay in the delivery room for the main event. And you just might not care at that point. This happens to everyone, right?
• The moment of delivery is astonishing on a number of levels. And that’s all I’ve got to say about that.
• Epidural. Say it loud. Say it proud. Say it early. Don’t wait and go through hours of suffering if you’re heading for the drip anyway – save your strength.
• Let me repeat: Epidural. As someone who has been in pain before, I have the authority to state that there is nothing noble or interesting about it. Nature does lots of painful undignified things to us that we don’t have any trouble interfering with.
• Somehow this six pound human facsimile is controlling four full-grown adults 24 hours a day. I know this does not make us unique, so I won’t bitch about it further. For at least the next five minutes.
• You *can* make a baby almost entirely out of Skittles.
• Those enormous boobs I ordered when I was 15 arrived today. Shazam.

Nobody knows what they’re talking about. Conversely, everybody knows what they’re talking about.

In the last two days I’ve been told the following by a series of legitimate medical professionals:

• Unwrap the baby for feedings so she’s a little agitated and alert.
• Swaddle the baby for feedings so she’s comfortable and relaxed.
• Keep the baby’s hands and fingers covered so they don’t flail around and disturb her.
• Free up the baby’s hands so she can comfort herself – she’s had them in utero, why take them away now?
• Take the baby’s temperature in the ear or armpit.
• Take the baby’s temperature rectally.
• Start good sleeping habits right away, it’s never too early.
• Spend the first couple of months just doing whatever she wants, you can’t start bad habits yet.
• Never wake a sleeping baby.
• Wake her up for feeding times.

So now that we’ve got that straight. Am I missing anything?

Here’s some great advice from friend Laina – who has personally manufactured two fine offspring of her very own, so you know she knows what she’s talking about.

It doesn’t matter what you say. Kids only learn from what you do.

You watch TV? Good luck following the American Academy of Pediatrics advice to keep them away from TV until age two.

You like healthy food? With a few small battles in the toddler years, your offspring will probably grow up eating their veggies most of the time.

Same thing with naps and bedtime. If you believe in sleep and take it seriously enough to put them in a quiet, dark place at more or less the same time(s) every day, they will learn to nap. And well-rested kids are happier kids.

You know, I’d take this farther and come out and say that “walk the walk” is good advice for more than just parenting. Know where you stand and live your ideals.

Have something to add? Currently seeking words of wisdom about work, parenting, home maintenance, cooking, relationships… Tell me what you know!

Seriously, good eatin'.

Trapped in the house – not even allowed to help shovel us out – I had to do something to earn my keep during Snowpocalypse 2010. While everyone else was out organizing massive snowball fights via Facebook, I went all clean-a-thon on my place – polishing the counters, vacuuming, reorganizing all of my clothes and sifting through the jewelry archives, squirreling away the good stuff into various hidey holes where I will never find it. And generally trying to keep moving constantly, to assuage my guilt over leaving poor, beleaguered spouse out there to fend for himself in the wilds of Bethesda with a shovel and a dream. So I decided to make stew while he liberated us from the Deathsnow.

Here are some Deathsnow pictures! I wasn’t able to stray far, and mostly trotted up and down our front walk, hitting azaleas with a broom to try to knock some of the heavy snow off of them.

But back to the stew: It’s a very good stew, and kind of the definition of comfort food. Takes a vigorous slathering with horseradish, and keeps well. And so I share it with you as a great thing to have in your arsenal.

It is an adapted version of the Beef Stew Gaston recipe from Joy of Cooking.

• Take about 2-3 pounds of stewing beef – however you define that.
• Whack it in a big pot with a couple of tablespoons of olive oil and stir it around for a while as it browns.
• When it’s all browned up, scoop it out and discard the residual goo.
• Dust the beef chunks with flour, salt and pepper.
• Toss into your big pot and get to boiling: one cup broth (beef, veg… whatever you have around), one 15-oz can of tomato sauce or crushed tomatoes, one chopped onion, 3-ish cloves of garlic chopped, about 1/4 cup of chopped parsley, 12-15-ish peppercorns, one bay leaf, and one or two cloves. Cloves are a delicate calculation and it’s easy to use too much – do not overdo them.
• When that’s boiling, add your browned meat and simmer for about 3 hrs.
• After about 2.5 hours, add 2-3 peeled, chopped potatoes, 3 peeled, chopped carrots, 1-2 stalks chopped celery (all in big chunks), and a cup of red wine.

Enjoy with horseradish and more wine.

So what do you make/crave when it’s cold and shovely out?