perhaps it was the nonchalant beginning of my new vocational turn that has deterred me from writing about it here. i did not nail any sort of interview or quake at the sound of god’s summoning. there was no light bulb hovering over my head.

there were late-january margaritas (plural) at las delicias. there was the company of my husband and my children and my friend and neighbor, susan. and then, out of some space in susan’s consciousness reserved for the purely hypothetical, there was the suggestion that she and i open a fabric store. twenty minutes later, there was an impromptu tour of a not-so-hypothetical-at-all space that was for rent at 688 south cox.

was this a serious suggestion, this fabric store idea? i really did not think it was. in fact, i forgot all about it long enough to get the kind of wonderful sleep that happens when my mind is mulling over… nothing! but slowly, over the next few days, i began to feel an unprecedented level of excitement.

i spent more and more time building up the contours of this hypothetical world, designed to celebrate a craft that generations of women have passed down to the next. susan seemed to be living into the idea too, as we exchanged visions of offering sewing classes, building community around an age-old pass time, and of course, selling fabulous fabric!

i don’t even know when the dream shifted to reality. it was sometime between when we started calling it “sew memphis,” and where we are now, spending each day at 688 south cox pricing over 100 bolts of fabric for our may 1st opening. perhaps it was mid-february when we had this picture taken:

you don’t have a photo shoot unless you are really opening a business, right?

last night i read this new york times essay, proud to be a mompreneur, by jill salzman. as i took in the debate about whether or not female business owners should hide or showcase their roles as mothers, i felt different than i usually do when i read about women in business. i am one of these people now!

and as i quickly scrolled through recent memory, it became clear that i have traded the so-called “professionalism” that some think comes with downplaying the motherhood role for a more integrated, transparent, vocational model.

my children help me paint and stock shelves.

we have a playroom in the shop where the kids spend at least half of their days. i have definitely not, as salzman writes, “rejected the mom label.” i also worry about things that more “professional” women probably don’t worry about, such as the sand that my children transport from the school playground to the shop by way of their shoes, and the toys that must be put away before we leave the shop each day. being a mompreneur is gritty. literally.

but i have to believe salzman when she writes,

a parent who can manage the juggling and the balancing that is both running a company and raising a family is someone who can handle anything.

and i also have to believe that even though this adventure has unfolded with margaritas instead of light bulbs and introspection instead of interviews, it is the right thing for me to do. it comes from a place of deep gladness, as frederick buechner writes. and much of this gladness comes from sharing this creative chaos with my children.

having been on the receiving end of some pretty unwanted, ludicrous, and rudely-delivered parenting advice, i vowed long ago not to volunteer my unsolicited “wisdom” to other parents. you will not find me approaching strangers in parking lots with unsympothetic words such as, “you need to put a hat on that baby!” in fact, my children convince me more and more every single day that, when it comes to mothering, i have no idea what i am doing.

but i must break my no-advice rule just this once to impart this sage tidbit:

if you go to a friend or relative’s house for dinner, and the other guests there happen to be members of a folky, old-time, blue-grass band, YOU SHOULD DEMAND A CONCERT ON THE SPOT. i mean it. don’t let these people eat until they play for you. it will be a spiritual experience. your children will be enthralled. the fiddle and harmonies and lyrics will make you cry. and weeks later, your heart will swell just as it did that night, as they played shyly at first from their seats on the couch and proudly in the end in front of the fireplace.

a few weeks ago, my parents hosted the members of red june in their home. will straughan, john miller, and natayla weinstein are friends of my brother, and they were in memphis for the folk alliance conference. they gave us such a gift, and now, i am giving it to you.

enjoy.

name: Virginia Reed Murphy

age: 41

current city: Memphis, TN

living situation: I live in a house with:

• my husband, Joe
• boy one, Abel (age five)
• boy two, Harlan (age three)
• man child,  Josh, ( age 21) (He’s a college student and an actor in my theatre company.)

occupation: I am the director of Playback Memphis, a professional improv theatre group that animates audience members’ personal stories using movement, music, metaphor, and the spoken word. In addition, my husband and I co-direct an interactive children’s music program called Music for Aardvarks, Memphis.

how do you structure your time and space? Our life mirrors our Playback work in that there is a loose structure and a lot of room for variation in the moment. One constant is that, for the first time ever, both kids go to school every day from  8:30 to 3:15. Before, both boys got out at 11:30 a.m. and honestly, I have no idea how we ran two small businesses with that scenario. It was pretty nuts.

Another constant is yoga. I go three times a week — usually twice to Bikram, which is stinky and sweaty, and once a week to Lou Hoyt’s Iyengar class at Eastern Sun. Yoga is essential for my neck, it counteracts my extended computer time, and it also prevents me from being institutionalized. (I really believe that I would be a danger to myself and others without the practice. It’s incomprehensible to me how people live without it.)

We have an office at First Congo, a church that is a  block and a half from our house. Sometimes I work there and sometimes I work at home. I would like to make better use of the office. But when I feel pressed for time, I usually stay home to save myself the 15 minutes it takes to pack up the computer and make the block and a half. Very silly. I really do long for my home to be a refuge from work, but when you run your own businesses, that just isn’t reality. It’s with you always.

In addition to their time in school, my children spend time with my mother and Josh. This is awesome. I think every family with two small children should have a Josh living with them. He’s wonderful with the kids and very responsible and creative. I just love that my kids are learning from and relating to him.

My days are completely improvisational and never look the same. The seasons of work dictate much of how I spend my time with the tasks of fundraising for Playback, promoting a new semester for Aardvarks,
meetings with clients, doing administrative work, vision questing about how to grow Aardvarks and Playback, putting together a Playback promo video, and my least favorite activity: bookkeeping. I wear a lot of hats and would very much like an assistant, but we can’t afford one. I’m exploring the intern option.

My homemaking happens in spurts. I really love the idea of living in a space where I experience beauty and creativity as well as order. However, this just feels impossible for me to maintain for any length of time. For example, I had piles of found Mississippi River bank drift wood sitting around my house for months. My kids would be chasing each other with five-foot-long pieces until I finally I made a sculpture for the wall. There is often laundry strewn all over the house, and although I have a system for separating clothes when we wash (towels, our clothes, kids clothes), most of the time the clothes never get put away, so it’s really a pointless system. And I have NO idea how anyone ever puts matching socks on their kids. I’m lucky if a find two socks. I’ve also never brushed my kids’ hair. Fortunately, they can pull it off – I think I would be in a bad way if I had girls.

Dinner is this whole other beast in home-making that I never manage to get a hold of. Sometimes I feed the kids hotdogs and tater tots and let them watch something on Netflix. (We have no TV, but again, what’s the point in having no TV if you park your kids in front of Netflix? I guess rules and structure exist to be broken in our household.) On these evenings, Joe and I drink beer and forgo plates as we stuff ourselves with pita and hummus. Then there are the nights where I get super ambitious and start something from Moosewood Simple Suppers at five o’clock and forget to feed my kids anything. Naturally, by 5:30 they are writhing on the floor in tandem tantrums (usually one of them is naked), the kitchen is a disaster, and I’m thinking, “why in God’s name did I decide tonight was the night for Navajo Stew? My kids won’t even eat it.” And then sometimes I manage to put together some deliciousness that everyone enjoys, and we manage to clean all the work off the dining room table and hold hands and sing the Montessori blessing and the world is right again. All case scenarios are equally us. I guess you could say we have wide range.

using the metaphor of seasons to describe the phases of women’s lives,

-what are the particular challenges and highlights of your current season? The biggest challenge is that we don’t make enough money, and I am tired of going into Walgreens and having to think for ten minutes if buying a new toothbrush is a “need” or a “want.” Also, more financial stablility would decrease stress and allow Joe and me to have some more time for just us. For example, we could have date nights that do not entail consuming hummus, pita, and beer while the kids watch TV. Among the many highlights of our current season is the fact that the nature of our work allows us to have a lot of great family time together. Our personal and professional lives are very integrated (meaning we’ve made amazing friends from both the Aardvarks and Playback worlds) and we feel very rooted in our community. We are trying to be the change we want to see in the world (and especially in Memphis) with both Aardvarks and Playback, and although this is challenging at times, it’s an incredible journey for us and our lives are so much richer for it in all the ways that matter.

-what season(s) preceded this one? Imagining and planning the garden I wanted to grow.

-what season(s) might your future hold? I’m hoping that now that the harvest is coming in, I can find some people to give me a good price so I can keep the farm.

favorite family activities: In nice weather we like to bike ride or go to the sandbar at Shelby Forest —  a ridiculously underutilized, best big nature experience in Memphis. We also go camping a lot in Arkansas. This takes a crazy amount of work , but our life is just kind of one crazy production anyway, so we’re used to it. My husband is from farm stock, so he is really good at this kind of thing and the payoff is huge when I see the boys in their full nakedness throwing rocks in that beautiful stream. Joe and I have far too few date nights due to lack of funds, but if I could I would take him to Las Vegas to see Cirque de Soleil’s LOVE. I went with my sisters-in-law a couple of years ago, and now I have this whole new appreciation for the vision of an adult playground. I always snubbed my nose, but if we could take a weekend that would be up there for a top pick.

favorite solo activities: I’m sorry what?

source(s) of inspiration: humanity, our playback company, Aardvarks families, and amazingly talented friends

best MakeShift moment: Harlan used to be obsessed with pretending he was driving in the parked car. Sometimes I would bring the New York Times in the car and lie down in the backseat while he drove. Sometimes I would actually just leave him in the car while I did something inside. One day I came out and he was gone, which completely freaked me out. Every worst case scenario imagineable was running through my mind. It turns out he had found his way into our neighbor’s sports car and was behind the wheel (a much fancier ride). Hilarious, but really not. You shouldn’t leave your two-year-old unattended in a parked car. Creative perhaps, but quite foolish. Good story though. I walk a fine line.

virginia invites memphians to enjoy this weekend’s playback performances:

find virginia on the web:

• music for aardvarks, memphis: http://www.memphisaardvarks.com/
• playback memphis: http://www.playbackmemphis.com/

[if you or someone you know would make a good “mother of invention,” please check out the nomination process and questionnaire located on the sidebar to your right.]

name: Elise McKinnon

age: 36 for a few more weeks

current city: Memphis, TN

living situation: I live with my husband, Leonard; daughter, Audrey (age nine); son, Edward (age eight); needy Border Collie/Beagle mix, Dash; perfect cat, Anna; and foster puppy, Sammie.

how do you structure your time and space? Hah! I don’t. Any sense of organization I ever had went right out the window after my children were born. My house is a mess – everyday. Dinner is a surprise every night. Until recently, the only constants in our home were bedtimes, school times (for the kids), and morning exercise for me. In April I returned to work part-time, and I’ve tried to create some structure since then but I have found that the more I try to create a sense of order, the more the cosmos conspire to put a wrench in everything. In general, I do my very best each day to subvert society by refusing to multi-task.  This includes talking on the phone while I drive, doing anything while I eat, ironing clothes while I brush the dog with one foot, or anything else that sacrifices quality for quantity. 

using the metaphor of seasons to describe the phases of women’s lives,

-what are the particular challenges and highlights of your current season? I don’t think I was born to be a mother as some women were – or believe they were. I am an only child, so the sibling dynamic is something for which I have no frame of reference. The bickering, posturing and bartering can make for exasperating background noise, at times. But when they giggle together, and they don’t know I’m listening – that’s music. I love my children, and they surprise and delight me each and every day but my nurturing instincts aren’t always particularly strong. I spend a lot of time lost in the forest and, on the off-chance that I do happen to notice an individual tree, I usually go after it with an axe. So, I spend a lot of time saying, “I’m sorry.” I always said I’d never be one of those mothers who over-schedules her children, but I do love watching Audrey and Edward try new things and discover new talents. Even more than that, I enjoy watching them work hard for things that don’t come easily for them and being there when they succeed. The biggest challenge, and it seems to be getting bigger, is carving out time for Leonard and me to be alone. The best time of my life was when we were dating, and I miss the ability to spontaneously take off for the weekend or just lie around the house doing nothing.

-what season(s) preceded this one? Probably springtime. I loved being single and living alone with everything in front of me. Right after college, I moved to DC and worked on Capitol Hill for several years. It was electric! Most of my circle here in Memphis got married right out of college – something I can’t even imagine having done. I don’t know who I would be if I hadn’t had the opportunity to be just me– not someone’s daughter, wife, mother, et cetera.  When I was single, I felt strong – in bloom – just like spring’s promise.

-what season(s) might your future hold? Today the heat index is 117 degrees, so I can’t think of anything more pleasing than winter. BUT, if we remove the metaphor, what I hope the future holds is a chance to live someplace else. I miss being an easy drive from the beach or the mountains. I would love for my family to live in another country and experience another world-view. 

favorite family activities: going to the beach, hiking, riding bikes, going to the movies, eating out together

favorite solo activities: running, reading, traveling, playing the piano

source(s) of inspiration: good writing, dry humor, and waves crashing on a shore

best MakeShift moment: My life is one gi-normous makeshift moment. I couldn’t possibly narrow it down to one.

[if you or someone you know would make a good “mother of invention,” please check out the nomination process and questionnaire located on the sidebar to your right.]

first name: Cindi

age: 38

current city: Memphis, TN

living situation: I live with my husband of ten years, Mike, our five-year-old, Fifi (Sophie), and our two-year-old, Davis.

occupation: Director of the Buckman Performing and Fine Arts Center at St. Mary’s School

how do you structure your time and space?  Even though I work full-time, I want my kids to know they come first. It’s important that I drive them to and from school. I’m very protective of any time outside of work, since I often have an unpredictable schedule with evening and weekend engagements. Any time off is strictly reserved for my kiddos. I’ll take a Saturday night at Chick-fil-A over a pedi or a massage.

My husband works full time as a Multi-Media Developer and web designer and plays drums in a band on the weekends. We believe that the best way to be good for our kids is to be good to each other. So, Wednesday is date night; no exceptions. We also escape for a weekend alone in New York together once a year.

I wake up at 4:20 every weekday morning to run six and a half miles before the family gets up. It’s my only self-indulgent time when no one can bother me. With Mike’s help, I get the kids fed, dressed and strapped in the car by 7:20 a.m, and rush for Fifi’s school. My son goes to Parents Day Out two days a week and stays at home three days a week with Angelica, our nanny of five years, who might as well be a grandma to him. I do my office work at the theater between 7:45 a.m. and 3:00 p.m. When my kids get out of school, they take classes at the theater (violin and ballet) until I leave work at 4:30 p.m. Then it’s family time, with all of its necessary steps: homework, dinner, household chores, laundry, dishes, trash, pet care, baths, story time, bedtime and lights out by 8 p.m. I go back to work from my home laptop until the dryer and dishwasher stop. After folding and putting away laundry, I fall into bed by 11 p.m.

On weekends, I have my stage shows, art opening, independent film series and children’s events. Inevitably, my hubbie and I have overlaps with shows on the weekends. When that happens, we have to rely on a sitter or family. When all else fails, my theater occasionally adopts some very short ushers. We operate on a chaotic schedule in the school year, but have wonderful fall, winter and spring breaks and reduced hours and vacation in the summer.

using the metaphor of seasons to describe the phases of women’s lives,

-what are the particular challenges and highlights of your current season? This is my summer. My children are in full bloom! My greatest challenge is getting caught in the rush of today and losing perspective of the big picture of my children’s sweet lives. This is probably the busiest and most fulfilling my life will ever be. I don’t want to wish it away with the hectic climate we live in. I try to freeze moments in my mind, like swinging on my mother’s porch swing with my kids and singing last night. This is the best time when they are still happy to see and be seen with me and don’t talk back. I don’t want to forget a moment of it.

-what season(s) preceded this one? Spring! It was a time of preparing for and anticipating our little family, doing everything for the first time in my career, and adjusting to life as a newlywed and a mother-to-be.

-what season(s) might your future hold? In the next twenty years, it will be my fall. A time for harvest and reaping what I sew, my children will take on lives of their own, and my role as mother will shift from a daily caregiver to adviser, comforter, financier and taxi driver. It will be a time for new growth perhaps in my career and a time of renewal for my husband and me.

favorite family activity/activities: We love singing, dancing and listening to music together (not in a creepy Von Trap sort of way). Watching the kids choreograph and belt out their interpretations of songs and turn our fireplace into a stage is high art to us. We get a kick out of showing our kids the things that we loved when we were young and sharing it all again; Electric Company, Free to Be You and Me, Michael Jackson, the Muppet Show, Bugs Bunny. We love Hide and go Seek, walking to our neighborhood park and feeding the ducks, baking together, and reading (if I try to skip out on story time at night, Fifi is quick to remind say, “But Mommy, you’re supposed to read to your child AT LEAST 20 minutes a day!”

favorite solo activity/activities: My absolute guilty pleasure is Broadway musicals. I’m a contemporary dance junky, as well. If I’m not backstage at one of my shows, chances are I’m in someone else’s audience. For stress relief, I love running and yoga.

Source(s) of inspiration: My Mom–I talk to her every day. Her advice has never been wrong, and she’s so sensitive to the needs of others. She actually cries with me when I have a bad day. My closest friend and co-worker also inspires me. She is the most focused and balanced mother I’ve ever known. She gives me the skinny on how to do it all with grace and charm. And of course, God. I have to believe He is in control of all that is beautiful, good, bad and ugly on this earth.

Best MakeShift moment:In my office, I have a drawer filled with crayons, Mardi Gras beads, play dough, matchbox cars, and most importantly, a roll of bubble wrap. Not only does it occupy and entertain my children, it helps with other kids who find their way outside my office door. There is always a toddler waiting while “Big Sis” is taking ballet class. I also keep a kiddie movie or two with me at all times to be popped into a laptop for entertainment. And nothing beats and i-phone for shopping trips, car rides and general tot occupation!

it was not until i saw the memphis in may world championship barbeque festival and cooking contest highlighted on television by the food network and BBC and described in great detail by al roker, that it occurred to me that my city’s annual pig out is a big deal.

 i used to think it was normal for a city to smell like smoked meat for an entire 5-day period and for grownups to walk around wearing hollowed-out rib-bone necklaces. i now recognize and even delight in the fact that  the event, boasting 200+ frat-house-like booths, a serious cooking contest by day, and a raucous party by night, is quite a spectacle.

this delight is new though. my husband’s annual participation in this hog wild extravaganza has historically led to such (un)pleasantries as:

• our kitchen’s transformation into a cooler-stacked, wall-to-wall meat storage unit,
• the sensation of sharing a bed with the unmistakable aroma of a bbq sandwich,
• and, the pummeling/dragging incedent that took place between my little monkey (then almost two) and a beer-filled wagon. (and that was on “family night,” i might add!)

in spite of these annoyances and minor tragedies, i have spent enough time swining and dining at this year’s fest to have accrued a whole hamper of smokey-smelling clothes. and i must admit, it’s been fun! partly because i’ve been fascinated by the makeshift way in which things come together down there by the river.

for example, this is “herman,” the smoker, which my husband and a friend (mostly the friend) welded together out of old industrial parts found in a warehouse.

and this is an old sink, procured for $50 from a restaurant supply company, against the backdrop of old school lockers that a team member found on the side of the road.

another contributing factor to my new found enjoyment of the shin-dig is that today, for the first time, i was in the booth for the much-anticipated visitation of the judges.

you would have thought that god, herself, was getting ready to pull up a chair and enjoy a rib bone! the place was spotless (there was vacuuming), and the food was incredible (i ate a slab and a half of ribs, myself).

and when it was time to submit a mouth-watering entry to the “blind judging contest” taking place a few (hundred) booths down, guess who was called on to complete this mission — yep, the monkey. maybe this important role will somehow erase his association between the fest and bizarre injury.

now perhaps you are wondering how a strict, five-day diet of smoked pig meat is received by the human digestive system. the answer is, of course, NOT WELL. but there is no need to worry.

there are plenty of free tums for everyone!