Raw Drip

I ruffled the feathers of my new boss last week by not going into the office during a blizzard.  With our daycare closed, every local school and municipality shut down and state & local authorities broadcasting urgent pleas for people to stay home, I (wisely) decided not to brave the unplowed roads and instead, opted to use my company-issued laptop to work from home. 

On my first day, my boss told me to look to my team to guide me on departmental policies. She assured me that she doesn’t have a lot of rules for her team and wants us all to work together to do what’s best for the company.  But being new to my job, I didn’t just assume that it would okay to work from home without asking.  I know from experience that managers can be oddly inconsistent in their application of work from home privileges.  Keeping this in mind, I followed her directions and pow-wowed with my colleagues and team lead who all reassured me that it would be appropriate to work remotely in this situation.  After all, the weather situation was forcing them to work from home, as well. 

That snowy day, despite having two small children with cabin fever in the house with me all day, I managed to be productive.  I even made major progress on a high-profile project by blowing off my lunch and working until 7 that night. 

Apparently, my focus, drive and dedication to my work are not qualities my manager is looking for. 

This week during a regular one-on-one, she gave me a stern warning about being too assumptive.  When I asked what she meant, she said that as a new employee she expected me to be more “humble”.  She expected me to reach out to her and ask permission to work from home, rather than assume I could do what everyone else in my department was doing.  Of course, this was completely at odds with her previous statements that my team is my guide and that the team doesn’t operate under a lot of rules.

So, rather than defend the circumstances of my case, I pointed out the contradictory nature of her messages.  On the one hand, she hired me to be a bold, independent worker who “takes risks”, “breaks paradigms” and other quasi-empowerment catchphrases she used during my interview.  That being the case, wouldn’t it be fair to say that consulting with my team lead and then following the directions of my colleagues is actually not all that risky or assumptive and certainly isn’t a step in the direction of paradigm-breaking?  Why I am I being called out for being too assumptive, when I should be being called out for not being the bold, independent thinker she hired me to be? 

As long as we’re talking about assumptive here, why did she assume that I’d know I’m only supposed to be selectively bold and independent in my thinking?  Isn’t it her responsibility as my manager to make all the rules and paradigms clear, so I can make more educated decisions about which ones to break?  And, assuming my only direction from her was to follow the lead of my team, how can I now be blamed for following HER instructions?  If she wants me to be someone who follows instructions, which instructions should I follow – the ones that say that I’m supposed to be bold, or the ones that say I’m supposed to be humble? 

I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that this wasn’t the response she was looking for.  I think she was looking for a simple apology, or perhaps a more extensive session of grovelling at her feet.  My response just annoyed and confused her.  On the upside, maybe I scored a few points as a bold, independent thinker.  I doubt it.

Something tells me I should just chalk up this whole melon-twisting experience to a boring, everyday case of micro-managing.   I guess if it makes my boss feel like she’s in control to have her independent thinkers (and did I mention that I’m also a mostly-responsible ADULT, as well?) asking her if they can work from home during a deadly blizzard, I will endeavor to oblige her in the future.  

I’d like think this is an isolated situation, but experience tells me that’s not the case.  So in an arrangement ready-made for a Dilbert strip, I understand that in my new role I not only need to figure out how to be selectively bold and independent while appearing humble, but I also need to learn how to follow all the rules my boss will never tell me she has until after I’ve broken them.  Great.  And people wonder why women in their 30’s are dropping their careers en masse to stay home and raise children.   Who knew that the world’s most intimidating job – child-rearing – could ever look easier than deciphering the conflicting directives of a typical job in corporate America…

I stumbled across these excellent parenting tips and knew immediately that I had to share them with others. 

(Note to self: bonding with baby over a cuppa’ = bad)

http://www.makememinimal.com/2008/instrucciones-para-cuidar-un-bebe/

It was an innocuous phrase from my mother that doomed my 5th annual gift of a mushroom-spotted potholder & dishtowel set to it’s gloomy fate  - ”This is so nice, I’m going to have to save it for good,” she said with an awkward smile and a forced chuckle.  I think I was about 9 years old when I first suspected that telling me my gift was ”for good” was my mother’s oh-so-polite way of saying, “Gee.  Thanks for the thought, but this gift is a complete miss – total crap – and there’s no way I’m ever going to use it.” 

My mother had (and still has, I believe) a special drawer in her bureau for all her ”for good” stuff.  This drawer is like a little grave where unwanted potholder & dishtowel sets, cheap jewelry, and even cheaper perfume have all gone to rest for eternity.  When I stumbled across the ”for good” drawer as a child, I remember feeling devastated – seeing, finally, that all my suspicions about the “for good” gift designation were confirmed.  Looking at the contents of that drawer, it was obvious to me that there was never going to be an occasion good enough to merit the retrieval and use of those mushroom-spotted potholders & coordinating dishtowels.

Looking back on it now, I think finding that drawer full of abandoned gifts was a defining moment for me.  From that point on, I vowed only to give gifts that my mom would actually want.  I have to admit, this has proven to be much harder than I anticipated.  Years of trying to select that special gift that will really WOW her has brought me, at best, about a 40% success rate.  This past Christmas was a total failure as my recent credit card statement showed; the entire Amazon.com gift purchase was returned and the purchase credited back to my account.  So much for that book and DVD I thought she might enjoy…

Why are moms so hard to buy gifts for?  Darned if I know.  One thing I do know is that now that I am a mom, I can already see the crap gifts in my future and, honestly, I don’t want ‘em.  I don’t like the idea of more clutter that needs to be dusted.  I hate kitschy stuff that reminds me of the gift shop at Cracker Barrel.  But even worse, I loathe the idea of being revealed as the petty, fault-filled person that I really am in front of my kids. 

What’s wrong with me?  Why can’t I just be like those other gracious moms who proudly incorporate all their sweet kid-crap gifts into their lives?  Would it really kill me to have a set of mushroom-spotted dishtowels on display in the kitchen? 

It might.  I know myself too well to think that I’d be happy integrating such crap into my decor, let alone my life.   

So where does that leave me?  Rather than try to change myself (which is next to impossible), I think I’ll just focus on educating the next generation.  By providing them with some guiding principles of good gifting – sort of a “No Crap Guide to Gifting” I might be able to avoid the crap altogether.  Or better yet, rather than overwhelming them with good gifting principles, I could just tell them what NOT to buy me.  I could tell them to avoid things like: 

• Ceramic figures of small woodland animals in dress clothes and/or playing tiny instruments
• Clothing
• Anything that proclaims me as being the “World’s Greatest” anything
• Kitschy wall hangings, embroidered tapestries, or plaques that say things like, “Mom is another word for love” or “God Bless this Mess”
• Gag gifts like fake dog poop, whoopee cushions or trick chewing gum
• Star Wars shower gel
• Any bugs or reptiles (real or fake)

Maybe if I can help them avoid crap gifts, I won’t have to have the painful conversation with them that my own mother never had with me?  I don’t want to say to them, “Thank you for the gift.  I feel it’s important to be upfront with you and tell you that if I can’t use your gift for anything or I find it’s just not right for me, I’m going to have to set it free -release it back into the wild for some other kid to discover and give to his or her mommy.”  Because, while saying this may be honest, it’s brutally so.  And, yet, hiding the truth from them as my mother tried to do with me, opens up it’s own brutal can of worms.

So, instead of lying to them or being brutally honest, I think I’ll say something like, “Don’t buy me anything.  Save your money for college and use your words to tell me how much you appreciate me.  Or, just do something nice like pick up your room without me asking you to do so.  Spontaneous hugs also make great gifts.  It may sound corny, but your love is the only gift I really want…  But please don’t give me a crappy t-shirt that says that, okay?”