The wonderful conveniences of Northern Virginia

Today is laundry day, and I can’t remember the last time I was this excited about it. Since we moved about one month ago, we’ve been living sans washer and dryer, and the laundry has piled up. The laundry room in our new house became home to mounds of towels, t-shirts, and jeans while we waited for delivery of our new washer and dryer. I did do an occasional load at a friend’s house, but the piles still accumulated quicker than I could get over to her house to wash them. In some sort of calendar irony, we’ve been without a washer and dryer at the same time that the munchkin made the switch from pull-ups to panties. The Whirlpool man delivered the appliances this morning, and I am celebrating this President’s Day holiday with inaugural loads of whites, colors, and delicates.

Seeing the dirty laundry piles grow every day made me reflect a bit on modern conveniences.   I could be stuck using a washboard to scrub those clothes clean. I could be making lye soap myself and watching it tear up the skin on my hands. Instead, I live in a time and place where the hardest part of doing laundry is selecting how many fancy buttons and features the new machines should have and then folding the clean clothes while watching TV.

I’ve also come to appreciate just how many conveniences we had in D.C. and Northern Virginia. Just around the corner from our old house was a shopping center with more restaurants than there are days of the week–Thai, Chinese, sushi, Vietnamese, barbeque, Greek, Indian, and even a Dairy Queen. We didn’t do takeout very often, but when we needed to, such as those weeks when the all big work projects and business school exams coincided, we had all those options just a block away.

Now I’m in a smaller town in the Midwest, and, while it’s good to be back in this part of the country, I miss having those options. The commissary (grocery store) on the Army post here in Leavenworth, Kansas, hasn’t quite made itself as shopper friendly as did the Safeway down the street from our house in Virginia. On my way home the other afternoon, I tried to pick up a rotisserie chicken—that classic easy meal for busy parents—for dinner. This was around 4:00; I figured there’d be plenty to pick from. Not so. A store employee said they put out those chickens once a day, around 10:30 a.m., and that they’re often gone by 2:00 or so.

10:30 a.m.???  Who buys cooked chicken in the middle of the morning? The prime customer for rotisserie chicken is the person looking for a healthy meal after a long day when work runs late and he or she doesn’t have the time or energy to go home and cook. The commissary is missing out on a lot of potential chicken sales.

This is the same store that began opening on Mondays just a few months ago (an old-school military-wide commissary tradition was to close on Mondays), and only after some persuasion by the post’s 3-star commanding general. Lo and behold, revenues have soared these past few months, as shoppers who used to head to other grocery stores to restock their fridges after weekends are bringing their food dollars to the commissary instead.

And so, on this Monday, I’m thankful for modern conveniences. I’m thankful for my new washer and dryer. I’m thankful for all the stores, services, and restaurants in Northern Virginia that helped to make the last 2 ½ years of evening business school possible. I’m happy that the post commissary here at Fort Leavenworth has finally come into the 21^st century with their schedule which will allow me to shop there later today.

I’ll probably arrive after all the rotisserie chickens are gone, however. Now it’s time for me to use a little of this hard-earned MBA knowledge to convince the store to offer such a simple late afternoon convenience to their customers—hungry, busy people, many of them Soldiers, heading home at the end of a hard day.

Today’s TB Scare

My son’s daycare frantically called an hour ago to tell me that the Health Certificate provided by our pediatrician indicated that he tested positive for Tuberculosis. Lovely! And now the DC Department of Health is involved.

As a mother of two blessed with good quality health care insurance coverage, I sometimes feel guilty complainig about the state of our health care system. I can generally get in to see a doctor when necessary and I am able to cover my out of pocket expenses. It’s the backoffice and endless paperwork that gets me. In 2009, why can’t everything be digital? Why do forms have to be printed and filled out by hand and faxed all over town?

Why can’t I access my health information electronically (test results, forms and perscriptions) and opt with whom to share this info? Imagine not having to carry a tiny piece of paper into the pharmacist’s office in order to wait the obligatory 20 minutes for the meds to be filled.

No, my son doesn’t have or hasn’t been exposed to TB.  In fact, the form submitted didn’t offer the results of his test because, at the time of writing, his results were pending. The daycare had misinterpreted the encircled P on the form to mean positive. With access to my health care records, this is a snafu that I could have controlled from the start.

Moms and Dads: How does our inefficient health care system impact your day-to-day life?

First day of school for mommy

Today was my first day at school. Well not really since I’ve been enrolled at the McDonough School of Business since the fall of 2006. But today did mark my initiation into daytime classes with the fulltime students.

While the Evening Program at the MSB has proven to be the ideal way for this working mom to earn an MBA, I’ve been blessed with the opportunity to experience a more traditional MBA schedule and courseload this spring. Since my day job ended in December, I’ve opted to take three day classes instead of two evening ones as a way to 1) complete the program in May vs. July and 2) eliminate the need to hire a sitter two nights a week to watch my kids. My one year old still goes to daycare and my three year old to preschool, and I go to class and study during the week. Or that’s the plan anyways.

It will be interesting to see how things work out.  Will I be able to get everything done during the day? How much will I miss my evening program friends? Will group work ever be the same without my compatriots of the EP?

Here’s what I’ve discovered already:

• Professor Homa warns that his Price, Value and Profitability course is on a level of difficulty unlike any of the Evening Program and warns me that I may face culture shock. Hmm…I’ll take that as a challenge.
• A group of wonderful second years welcomed me into their Homa group even though they didn’t have to – v. nice of them!
• 8:30 am class really stinks when you have to drop two children off at two different schools beforehand.
• 1.5 hour long classes (vs. 3+ in the EP) are refreshing.
• The ability to street park at night is a true blessing.
• The burgers at Wisey’s are cheap and decent.

So we’ll see how it goes.

Why I’m Thankful for the Recession

submitted by Karen Borchert

My Grandma Ady makes the most incredible dumplings you have ever tasted in your life. If you know anyone who is Czech, you know what I’m talking about: knedliky. These are not the dainty pillows of Italian gnocchi or the light shu mai of Chinese cooking. These are no-nonsense, stick-to-your-ribs, get through the winter in Prague kind of dumplings. And Grandma Ady’s knedliky, oh my. They alone are worth the cost of a plane ticket home.

The last time I tried to work alongside Ady and learn her secret, I broke out into a sweat and rested my forehead on her cool formica countertop, giving in to my bowl of tough dough long before my 92 year old grandmother kneaded hers into dumpling perfection. “Oh, tweetie!” she said, amazed that I couldn’t cut it. Oh tweetie.

The thing that stood out to me most was not the dumplings nor my own shame at being beat in a strength game by a nonagenarian – it was the bowl. When Ady cooks, there are no spoons to lick or bowls to wash, really. Every single bit of food is neatly folded into the dough or scraped into the pan. There is no waste. I marveled at that on that day, and the image always comes back to me as I’m messily banging pots and pans around in my own kitchen. Not that she was frugal or thrifty or neat. But that she makes use of each and every bit – effortlessly. Grandma Ady does not save rubber bands off the newspaper because she is a “frugalista.” She does not stuff her quilts with pantyhose because she is “greening her routine.” It’s just who she is. “Use it up. Wear it out. Make it do. Or do without.” Even her mantras don’t have more words than they need.

MBA Stay at Home Moms

I was surprised to read a recent business week article that women who earned their MBA’s were more likely to become stay at home moms than women who earned their JD or MD.

http://www.businessweek.com/bschools/content/aug2008/bs20080821_739321.htm?campaign_id=rss_null

I have to admit I was shocked that almost 1/3 of women who earned their MBA’s were stay at home moms 15 years out.  I have a hard time envisioning being a stay at home mom after I’m done with the hard work (and, frankly, expense) of completing my MBA.  Don’t get me wrong, I know a lot of brilliant women who are excellent stay at home moms but I know that’s not the path I’m planning to take.

When I look at the very smart women in my program it’s difficult to imagine that 1 in 3 will opt out of the “professional” workforce.  It reminds me of how important it is to have professional women and moms support each other and work together to create family friendly working options.

Work-Life Balance?

I recently attended the final in a series of career counseling days at Georgetown. We talked about the interview process and negotiating a job offer. During one of the small breakout sessions my group mates and I got on the topic of how you can determine a company’s culture in advance.

I need balance in my life. I cannot productively work at a 60 hour a week job and balance the other commitments I have. If that means I’ll never be CEO of a fortune 500 company, I’m willing to accept that. I want to do exceptional work, for a reasonable number of hours a week, and then I want to have the freedom to go home and spend time with my family. I recognize that every job has its moments where more is required, but at this point in my life I don’t want a job where there is an expectation that I’m on regularly on my blackberry at 1 AM and spending long hours at the office, particularly if long hours are just “face time”.

A few weeks ago I was on a well respected consulting company’s website. Their website highlighted their commitment to “work-life balance” as a reason you’d want to work there. But on the next page said that if you wanted to have a predictable schedule where you reliably worked 50 hours a week or less, this is not the organization for you. If that is the new definition of “work-life balance” I am definitely out of the loop.

It made me wonder if more companies are heading toward a real work-life balance or a culture where you expect employees to put in long-hours at the expense of their personal priorities and commitments.

Baby Steps

The teeniest Keen member, working hard on painting day

The company I’m helping start up, Keen Guides, is a few months younger than my daughter Ady, who turned one on Friday. And today, Ady took two steps. Now these were steps hard won. Months ago, she pulled herself along in a fierce little army crawl. She eventually made her way to hands and knees, and in recent weeks, she could cruise along holding on to tables and walls and get herself to the front door or into some sort of trouble about as fast as I could say “Ady! No!” This girl is ready to go places, whether we’re ready or not.

But every day — EVERY DAY — she falls on her butt trying to walk. She bumps her head. She falls over. She knocks over her toys. (this is not a child blessed with a lot of dainty grace, I’m afraid). And until today, the kid had a hard time getting where she wanted to go.

You probably see where this is going. And sure, it’s cliche to talk about a new company and the “baby steps” it has to take toward its destination of ultimate success and profitability. I’ll spare you the sports analogies (“it’s a marathon, not a sprint!”), the cooking analogies (“your recipe for success takes is a dash of inspiration and a whole lot of stirring the pot!”), and the business-book-speak (parachutes, cheese, and so on). The “baby steps” aren’t actually what’s important to starting a company. It’s the falling on your butt that’s important. And more importantly, how many times you’re willing to fall on your butt, get up, and keep trying.

I told a friend recently that this is kind of an “unglamorous stage” of the company just now. She looked shocked and appalled that I wasn’t in start-up heaven, making my own hours and wearing jeans to work and landing a venture capital deal every week and watching the cash roll in. But really, it’s true. Every day isn’t going to be a champagne popper — bills come in, challenges come up, and the work gets hard. For a new start-up working hard to develop a good product and actually sell it, success doesn’t look like the deal closings of movies, and you don’t often find your company splashed across the New York Times. Success is a second meeting. A working web site function. A returned phone call. Someone saying “oh wow, this is important!” Pretty unglamorous alright. Will not being an “overnight success” (if there really is such a thing) make us a better company? We think so. And we’re willing to test that theory.

For a one-year-old, Ady’s a pretty good role model. Like our little company, she has no idea how many bumps and bonks it’s going to take until she can successfully walk to her destination (or, I would guess in her case, RUN). But Ady never says “okay, I’m going to try this 2 more times” or “for one more week.” Nothing keeps her from trying, and she always maintains a sneaky nose wrinkle that says “I know I’m going to make this work.”

So bruised bums and all, we’re going for it, without much worry about which day will be the next champagne day. Every single day we show up to work is a challenge accomplished, a lesson learned, and another try closer. And one day, we’ll put one foot in front of the other, natural as can be, and just like that — we’re  movin’.