burnt toast life

work. life. balance.

I’ll open with a joke.

A good and God-fearing lady found herself in financial distress.
She decides to pray and says, “God, I need your help, please let me win the lottery.”

When she doesn’t win, she prays again the next week and says, “God, I really need the money, please oh please let me win the lottery.”

Once again, she doesn’t win, and once again she prays, “God, I have always served you faithfully, please tell me why you won’t let me win the lottery?”

Finally, God replies in exasperation, “Lady, help me out here and go buy yourself a ticket!”

That’s totally how I feel sometimes.

I want to trust in God’s plan for my life, but at the same time I know there is some expectation for me to make things happen. I can’t just sit around waiting for luck to befall me – I have to put in some effort. But also, perplexingly, I need to leave it all up to God.

It’s not easy figuring out where that line is.

This is all leading up to finally, finally discussing that huge problem I was having that is now somehow miraculously solved literally 2 weeks before it all exploded.

The problem was childcare – or rather, lack thereof. My sister can no longer care for my children post-June. I half-heartedly researched daycares many months ago and then decided that the absolute only solution to my problem was that I needed to figure out a way to work from home.

There’s really no reason that I CAN’T work from home. I’m a writer, and 95% of my workday is spent in solitude. As weeks passed, I became more and more resentful that I wasn’t working from home, and that other writers were working from home while I commuted 45 minutes each way to do work that I could just as easily accomplish from my living room.

That’s not to say I asked my current employer if it was an option – for some reason there’s a stigma associated with the practice, and I just got this vibe that it wouldn’t be well-received, even though it was just that – an assumption. Instead, I became obsessed with finding a new job that was remote-based. I suppose if I hadn’t successfully done that, I would have swallowed my pride and had the conversation, though I doubt they would have allowed me to do it five days per week. My current boss telecommutes three days, and I would say that’s their limit. Even that is better than being in the office full-time.

All along I was freelancing for a remote company and months ago I had interviewed for a full-time position with them. I thought that was my ace in the hole – but alas, I didn’t get the job. I got switched to a new team in that company and was busily submitting articles (part of the reason I never blog, because working full time + mom of two + freelancing = zero free time) and hoping another opportunity would present itself.

Weeks went by and my editor let me know that a part-time position on her team was opening up if I was interested. I gave an enthusiastic yes! Then… the waiting started. Each week brought another delay of figuring out details… checking with someone… the hiring process is just longgg and sloooow which of course is standard and not their fault but remember I had a deadline, so… I was in a panic. It got to the point where I’d keep my email tab open all day at work and check it the SECOND a new email came in. I can’t tell you how many times I cursed out Shutterfly for getting my hopes up for absolutely no reason. My stomach was in knots for two solid months.

I kept praying and asking God for the work from home thing to work out. I lined up my little sister Allie as a potential au pair for the summer, too. I figured if I could just get someone to tend to the kids while I worked, it would all be fine. Allie just turned 12… young enough that I don’t feel comfortable leaving her with just Eric (who works from home full time but is often stuck on long conference calls and holed up in the office unavailable) and the kids, but old enough that I know she could be enough help to keep the kiddos occupied while I got some serious writing done.

After many, many weeks and days of having a panic attack every time I got an email, I received word – I was hired part time to work from home! Amazing.

The next hurdle was telling my current employer AND convincing them to let me stay on freelance (since I still need to maintain the same salary, or as close as I can get). Luckily, they agreed to it immediately. Beginning June 5th I will be working part-time for the new company, freelancing for my current company, and at home 100% of the time.

Yay!

As excited as I am, I’m a little nervous about how it will all work out. I have never done anything like this and will need to keep track of billing my freelance customers, keep track of all my hours for the part time role, and really just stay on top of things. Plus, I’m worried the work will dry up. I’ve always enjoyed the security of working full time and not worrying about that. Then again… no job is guaranteed, as I found out the hard way last November when I got laid off.

I’m very excited to be home more with the kids. I won’t be wasting so many hours sitting in traffic, or so much money on gas. I think it will be busy, and hectic, but I am totally romanticizing how nice it will be to be able to preheat the oven for dinner at 4:30 rather than not even stumbling in the door until 6 (by which point Liam is screaming hungry with no concept of “raw chicken must cook”). Or how about how I can throw in a load of towels at 12 noon on a Wednesday? My world is opening up. Domestic goddesshood, here I come. (HA. HA!)

I’m not naive though… Eric’s biggest complaint about working from home is that he’s always at work. If a client emails or calls him at 7PM, he’s expected to answer, and there’s no leaving work at work when your work is at your house. But I figure it’s a fair tradeoff. Also, my job is less stressful than his. I actually enjoy the articles I’ll be writing for this part time gig – they’re fun and not incredibly difficult to write.

Also, I do need to figure out a long-term solution for when Allie goes back to school in the fall – and I will have three kids, not two. But at least by then I will have figured out a rhythm to the work and will have a better idea what hours need to be covered. For now, I’m trying not to think about it. I’m just grateful it worked out with not a day to spare. (Literally – my sister wanted her last day to be June 6th, and I’m starting this job June 5th. That is an incredible coincidence).

New theme song: We can work from home… wo-ah, wo-ah.

….even though that song is DEFINITELY not about working.

room for all of us

I’ll never forget a conversation I overheard once. Someone asked a mom if she was going to have more children and she replied that she would like to, but had decided against it simply because she didn’t have any more bedrooms in her house.

That’s insane.

Now that I’m pregnant with my third, I can’t tell you how many people ask me where the child will sleep. Our house was advertised as a 2-bedroom and we went to look at it anyway. I’m glad we did because it actually had 3 bedrooms (though not technically since that third “room” didn’t have a closet). As it stands, with Eric working from home full time and being the sort of person who needs an office/man cave/escape from screaming toddlers, we have two bedrooms – one master and one combo kid bedroom and playroom.

There is nowhere for this new baby to go. And yet… I know she’ll be just fine.

(Also, to answer the question, she’ll sleep in our room in a bassinet next to our bed as both my other newborns did. Then after some months go by… I don’t know, we’ll figure it out then).

I shared a room with my sister growing up. I don’t remember loving or hating it – that’s just how things were. My brother had a bedroom the size of a shoebox and I think I was just happy to have a space I could actually twirl around in, even if it was shared. There’s also something comforting about sharing a bedroom – especially at an age when you kind of think monsters might still exist.

I also remember how weird it was moving when I was 16 – we went from a 1,600 square foot cape cod with one bathroom to a 3,500 square foot McMansion. It was exciting, but lonely. For those first few months I definitely saw my family less and while that was appealing to the snarky teen in me… looking back, it really wasn’t that great. I missed my old house because I’m hostile to change and also because I missed the closeness. I’m sure the adults thought it was cramped and small but I never did.

In 2016, average American home size was up to 2,687 square feet – a huge increase from the 1973 average, which was 1,660 square feet. Also, unsurprisingly, the number of occupants per home has dwindled from 3.0 to 2.5 (yes, I researched all of this because I was curious. Huge nerd alert). I didn’t bother looking up older statistics but I’m fairly certain our great-great-grandparents shared rooms and even beds all the time – with entire families jammed into small spaces and not even complaining about it. Where did we get the idea that we need so much space to exist?

There are a lot of things I don’t like about my house – and actually, the lack of a playroom is one of them, because despite my minimalist daydreams, the toys are slowly but surely taking over every available inch of space. But one thing I do love is how I don’t even need a baby monitor because my kids’ room is a few feet from my own door and I can practically hear them breathing at night.

I remember freaking out over having the nursery ready for Molly, and knowing I was being ridiculous but still being so concerned about it. When I was pregnant with Liam, I did take the time to get ready and at least attempted to incorporate boy things but I was a lot more chill. This baby? Hmmm, the newborn clothes have been untouched for almost three years and are probably mouse eaten, the bassinet is completely disassembled, and all the other “baby stuff” is just sitting in a heap in the attic. It’s not that I don’t care about her or that I’m not excited… it’s that now for the third go-round, I know what matters.

I’ve become fond of saying babies need two things – boobies and warm hugs. Our sweet little girl won’t be able to see very well, but she’ll be able to feel all the love that’s waiting to welcome her. She definitely won’t notice that she doesn’t have her own room. At least… not for a few years.

That’s been on my mind lately. I stumbled upon the cutest toddler bunk beds that I definitely want to get for Liam & Molly once the baby is big enough to move into the big kid room. Coincidentally, it was one year ago today that I moved Molly into her big girl bed and Liam into the crib, so she wasn’t quite two… that’s exactly how old Liam will be when I need to move the baby in with them. I can’t imagine him being ready but then again it’s hard to overestimate the maturity difference between 1.5 and 2. I guess I forgot.

I hope everyone had a lovely Mother’s Day! Ours was low-key and spent with extended family… just how I like it. I wanted to go to the zoo with the kids but it was a weird weather day so we’re saving our fun family outing for another time. As I said on Facebook, coming home to a cleaned house Friday night was honestly the best gift I could have received. I keep telling Eric I’d rather have experience gifts than physical items (the experience of not house cleaning…?) and he came through for me, big time.

It’s going to sound cheesy but Mother’s Day is supposed to be about celebrating moms but all I can ever think about is how I’m just so happy to BE a mom at all. Everyone talks about giving mom a break but I don’t want a break… not even on Mother’s Day. I just want allllll the motherhood. Even the crappy parts. I know that’s super weird.

Have a lovely week, even if your house is small!

 

minimalism on my mind

desk-1081708_1920

This post has been ruminating in my head for so long that it actually feels silly to write about it now. It seems like old news.

As I’m prone to do, I caught on to the “new” trend towards minimalism a full five years after everyone else. OK, not quite, but basically.

A few things happened that made me move from “minimalism sounds sort of interesting” to “yes, I’m going to pursue this.”

  • I started following blogs and watching Netflix documentaries on the topic. Turns out it’s fairly addictive. The irony is now that I have so many thoughts churning, it’s actually stressing me out, which I realize is HIGHLY ironic because the whole movement is supposed to make you feel more calm and peaceful.
  • My makeup collection includes eyeshadow from ten years ago. Seriously. I don’t wear it (ew), but I hold onto it because hey, maybe my 6 months pregnant 30-something-year-old self WILL need bacterially questionable jet black eyeshadow for a night on the town one day soon. Also, it was expensive.
  • I just keep thinking of a funny story about my mother-in-law. For a really long time she had this gigantic collection of cookie tins lining a wall in her dining room, stacked up to the ceiling. She took them all down a few years ago when the room was being repainted and she had every intention of putting them back up but never did. Once they were down she saw it looked way better without them.

I feel like I have a similar relationship with my “stuff” – it’s there now and I’m used to it, but if I could just bring myself to box it all up and see how the room looked without it, I know I’d like it better.

  • Sometimes I get super jealous of my friends’ kids’ toy collections. I mean, some are truly staggering. Wall to wall bins of every imaginable plaything… kitchens with all the handcrafted wooden play food, bins upon bins of Barbies and action figures, train tracks and train tables and Legos, costume closets with adorable mini dresses and shoes, garages packed with scooters, basketball hoops, and Power Wheels, you name it. It makes my own collection feel truly inadequate.

But then I watch my kids playing. The other night they occupied themselves for several hours with some old birthday party decorations they found in a cabinet. Molly took a plain piece of string and invented a whole backstory and life of fun for her “snake” while Liam walked around gleefully with one of those colorful weights you use to hold down balloons. Meanwhile, I know for a fact that some of the friends who have mountains of toys have a hard time getting their kids to put down their iPads. So…

It all fits in nicely with some new research I’ve seen about preschools and kindergartens taking away toys for periods of time to force kids to use their imaginations again. Sure, it sounds extreme… but is it?

My kids definitely have toys and now that I’m reading all this stuff, apparently too many toys, but I think the point is that they play with what they have and the only person who sees what they have as inadequate is me. Then again, I might just be adopting this mentality because I’m too cheap/poor to compete with the mega toy moms. Minimalism is the trendier and cheaper option.

  • One of my big holdups was always my husband, a collector. He likes to be surrounded by souvenirs and has a collection of graphic t-shirts large enough that he could avoid doing laundry for at least 3 months and never wear the same one twice. I knew he wouldn’t see the appeal of minimalizing with me, so I figured doing our house half-assed wasn’t worth doing at all.

But then one day this month without warning, he totally gutted his closet and made it into a minimalist’s dream. Space between hangers! Nothing extra at all! Oh AND he got his pile of crap off the dresser so now when I look with disdain at all the trinkets still left there, I only have myself to blame. Apparently, he is on board – at least for certain things. Who knew?

seriously, you should have seen it before

I grew up in a collector’s house. I won’t use the “H” word (ahem…hoarder), but let’s just say my parents don’t get rid of A-N-Y-T-H-I-N-G and they buy A LOT of stuff.

This was really nice growing up because I was very spoiled and whenever you see those lists of toys that will make you nostalgic for your childhood, it’s guaranteed I will have owned 85-90% of them AND even better, could probably still find them with a few hours of digging in my parents’ basement.

True story: I wanted to take my old Dream Phone game on vacation last summer and wouldn’t you know, my mom totally found it in her basement. So you can see that the saving tendencies come in handy when a group of 30-somethings want to drink wine and relive their girlhood.

Despite genetics, I’ve always been more inclined to want less stuff/clutter and have been frantically picturing all the places where de-cluttering needs to happen in my house. I know what needs to get done – mentally, I’m there. But time wise I’m strapped. Besides working full-time during the day and being a mom from dinnertime to bedtime, the weekends are packed full and I never want to start a project I can’t finish or feel rushed doing it.

And I realize now that part of minimalism is actually finding more time in the day and clearing your calendar of all distractions… but it’s hard. All the things I’m doing are pretty fun and I’m sorry not sorry that I’ll never be willing to skip a birthday party so I can clean out my linen closet, no matter how badly I need to get rid of old towels.

As I’ve been cryptically hinting for months, I’m still working towards a solution that would give me more time to be at home and less time spent on the daily grind. Unfortunately, I’m no closer to solving that particular problem, though I know once I do I can fit more minimalist pursuits into my life.

I have tons more to say on the topic and I do want to document my “journey” once I finally get it the hell started, so who knows, maybe this will turn into a blog about going minimal. I’m sure that’s more riveting than long rambling posts about what my kids have been up to – or worse – not posting at all because I can’t figure out what to say.

I’ll never be that super awesome Insta photo with white walls and bare floors because, hello, this is real life. That level is beyond me. But I am working really hard on caring less about the stuff I don’t have and appreciating the stuff I do have. It all boils down to the fact that the stuff will never fill the void – only love can do that.

How about you? Are y’all a bunch of minimalists, or have I secretly-not-so-secretly envied your toy collections?

 

 

hey, remember me? I’m still here…

This time I’m not even going to bother accounting for apologizing for my lengthy absence. Where have I been? Not writing. Not motivated to write.

I alluded to my life slump in earlier posts and my post-quarter pre-mid life crisis which unfortunately is still going strong. The only thing I know beyond a shadow makes me happy is my children, and family in general, which is tricky because my absolute satisfaction with all of them only highlights how dissatisfied I am with everything else going on. Like, if every portion of my life made me as joyful and fulfilled as motherhood, then I’d be shooting sunbeams out my eyes and trailing glitter everywhere I went. But in reality, nothing else even comes close.

I’ve also been panicking over plans for the summer and beyond, childcare-wise. Remember how a few posts ago I was all, “Yeahhhh, no worries, it’ll all work out?” Well, that feeling has passed and super stressed out control freak Amanda has returned in force. WHAT are we going to do? HOW could this possibly work out? I’ve been feverishly prepping in the only way I can see this possibly working but even that is precarious at best and may not happen. I realize this all sounds very cloak and dagger but this is a public blog and for the moment I cannot say more. Maybe that’s part of the reason I’ve been gone from this space – I have a lot to say but cannot say it just yet. Hopefully soon.

The kids are great and the pregnancy is good, moving right along as baby Toast hits 17 weeks (turnip sized in produce analogies) today. I’ve been feeling tiny movements and of course that’s reassuring. I posted a while ago on Facebook about my big bloody scare and had every intention of posting a more detailed account later, but it just never happened. Long story short I woke up to a giant gush of blood and it was scary as hell, but it’s just a subchorionic hematoma that they’ll be monitoring but which shouldn’t really affect anything going forward. Other than that, not much except finding out the gender on 4/14 (I was going to wait but who am I kidding, I can’t wait) and frantically trying to figure out a realistic childcare solution for the not-so-distant fall.

We went skiing a couple of weeks ago, of course I didn’t get to ski, but it was a really good year for me to miss as temperatures stayed stubbornly below zero the entire time we were there. Molly did a fantastic job on skis this year especially compared to last and I have high hopes for enrolling her in the daycamp/ski school for pint-sized skiiers next year. It’s going to be freaking adorable.

I can’t remember if I told you guys that Molly named the baby already. At my urging, she started referring to him/her as “Emma” because that’s the girl name I really like and I was hoping hearing it in her adorable little voice would help sway Eric on the issue, as he is not convinced. My plan worked perfectly except for the part where she decided that if it’s a boy he will be named Byron… which is totally out of left field. It’s not a name she’s ever heard (that I know of) and Eric swears it’s not a coaching attempt on his part. Weirdly, it is a family name for him but again this is a deceased relative, not someone she’s met, so it’s super odd that she picked that name. I also don’t care for it so I’m kind of hoping it’s not a boy because everyone knows Molly gets her way on everything… probably on naming, too.

Liam is growing like a weed and talking up a storm, mostly gibberish but also plenty of discernible words. He definitely knows what we’re saying and follows directions surprisingly well. The kid literally eats more than I do – I’m talking full servings and often seconds at dinnertime and snack grazing throughout the entire day. If this keeps up, he will singlehandedly necessitate a weekly Sam’s Club trip once he hits teen years.

Speaking of eating… I do think it’s a girl a little because I want nothing but sugar and that’s exactly how I felt while pregnant with Molly (with Liam, it was more craving meat/protein). It’s kind of gross how much sugar I’ve been consuming lately and I’m considering a mini sugar detox to get myself together. Remember, I gained 70lbs with Molly and I have NO intention of doing that again.

I hate to ramble on and on just to have something to post, so I’ll cut it out now. Hopefully more to come soon.

Here are a couple snapshots from that ski trip:

cousin breakfast every morning

cousin breakfast every morning

on the bus to go skiing

on the bus to go skiing

happy Hardings at Smuggs

happy Hardings at Smuggs

really soft leggings for less than $6

Let me just start off by making one thing clear: I am not, on principle, opposed to the MLM business model.

Some people have visceral, negative reactions to direct sales companies, and automatically resort to calling them “pyramid schemes.” Do I think some are more worthwhile than others? Yes. Do I see the value, especially for moms looking to make a few extra bucks, or even build a new career? Hell yes.

Will I go to your home party, politely eat the spinach dip and sip my wine, listen to the spiel, and even make a purchase if the presentation properly impresses me? Sure!

I’ve been to what feels like all of them: Pampered Chef, Tastefully Simple, ThirtyOne, Origami Owl, Mary Kay, Nerium, Lia Sophia, Silpada, Premier, Young Living, Norwex, Jamberry, Scentsy, Stella & Dot, Touchstone Crystal…ha, and those are just the ones I can remember off the top of my head! I bet there are even more I’m neglecting to mention.

Anyway, I’m all about supporting you and your direct sales business. But there’s one that I just can’t seem to wrap my head around.

Lu. La. Roe.

Maybe it’s just in my little corner of the country, but I feel like these wild print outfits are infiltrating my daily interactions and Facebook newsfeed (but hey, that could be because I hid everything remotely political, so all that’s left are sponsored posts and Tasty recipes). I can spot a LuLaRoe-r from across a crowded restaurant because she’s always the one proudly sporting neon pink banana print leggings with a polka dot tunic, or something to that effect.

Now, full disclosure: I do own 2 pairs of LLR leggings. When the phenomenon started blowing up a few months ago, I was intrigued and slightly awed by its swift and exponential growth. One minute I had never heard of the brand, and the next I was spotting those crazy outfits on every street corner and getting invited to online parties and open houses left and right. I admit, I got sucked in at first, and the leggings are really soft.

But they’re not actually too unique.

I think the genius of LuLaRoe is that they provide comfortable casual wear to women who have little time to shop. They also appeal to a variety of sizes, and they don’t degrade plus-sized women with sizing conventions that make them feel bad. Tall and Curvy has a much nicer ring than 2XL – seriously.

There’s also the limited edition print thing, which creates a frenzy over the very few awesome patterns they produce. On Poshmark I’ve seen really cute pairs of LLR leggings listed for $75+. Because in the strange world of LLR, most of the readily available prints are effing hideous (IMHO), and in order to get a “good one” you either have to get lucky or pay out the nose.

Anyway, I’m writing this post to let you in on a little secret, which I didn’t even discover myself but which I can’t resist sharing with the world. My SIL told me about it, and then I did a bit of independent research and found her information to be true and valid.

You can get LLR-esque leggings for $5.88. Seriously.

Have you ever heard of a store called Walmart?

I know, I was doubtful at first too. It sounded too good to be true. But after Google confirmed it with a few product reviews, and after I (begrudgingly) visited my local store and found a pair of my very own, I’m here to report that they aren’t identical but they are DAMN CLOSE. The hand feel is exactly the same… the only difference is that the No Boundaries waistband has a gathered elastic construction, whereas real LLR employs a flatter/smoother fit, which of course is better.

But $20 better? Nahhhhh.

lularoe comparison

Real LLR pictured left; Walmart NB Sueded pictured right

Part of my beef with LLR is the exorbitant prices for overseas manufactured polyester. Like, who do they think they are? Taken out of context, the prices would be laughable by most standards. Put that same unlined, poly blend imported dress on your local Target clothing rack with a $60 price tag, then see how many customers take the bait. I think in that situation they’d be saying, “Target, you lost your damn mind.”

For leggings in particular, I am willing to pay $25 for a good quality pair that I’ll wear all the time, but how many times per month are you seriously wearing fluorescent unicorn print leggings, hmmm? If you’re going to spend that much money on mere leggings, I recommend these (which, by the way, are made from recycled water bottles, Fair Trade produced, and comfy as hell).

Anyway. The LLR-feel-a-likes have a limited online selection but I was able to snag one pair (in a prettier print than anything I saw online) in my local Walmart retail location. And maybe after tons of requests, they will add more prints and colors. Obviously someone in product development knows damn well who they’re copying.

If you go on your own reconnaissance mission, make sure to look for the leggings that are $5.88, not the ones that are $3.88. My store had a plethora of the cheaper ones but one touch and you’ll know those aren’t the holy grail you’ve been seeking. Touch, feel, and purchase wisely.

Let me know how it goes. You’re welcome.

And to my LLR-selling ladies, no hard feelings. I’ll still come to the parties. That spinach dip is delicious.

my fancy bag

A million years ago (actually 7), I worked for a luxury handbag company. Maybe you’ve heard of them? They’re called Coach.

I’m slightly ashamed to admit that while I was there I succumbed to peer pressure, big time. I bought a whole lot of overpriced bags and shoes and gloves and keychains and leather accessories. I justified it with the popular, “but everyone else is doing it!” Also, I argued to my inner self, I worked really hard and deserved nice stuff.

It was all a big fat lie.

One thing about being a Coach employee is that it’s simply not good enough to buy the standard, off-the-shelf bags. Oh, no. Look closely and you’ll notice that certain obsessive customers and employees always go for the “Limited Edition, Special Release” bags, which cost more than double the price and have irresistible features such as snakeskin trim and price tags as high as a typical mortgage payment. It’s disgusting.

I’ll tell you that the discount at Coach is very, very generous, especially compared to other retail stores. But when you’re purchasing $1,000 bags on a regular basis, even a large discount isn’t enough to dull the hit your bank account will suffer.

While I was employed at Coach I was also in college with a $40,000/year tuition bill. I lived with my parents, so I wasn’t paying rent or utilities, but I still only worked part time for close to minimum wage (no, not commission) and spent all my money on aforementioned leather goods as well as clothes from nearby stores in the mall. Also, gourmet popcorn every night, because why the hell not. Despite my mounting debt, I somehow talked myself into a $750 travel bag (I rarely travel), a $300 wallet, (seriously?), $200 sunglasses (um, yeah…), and the piece de resistance – a $900 fancy work bag. For my future fancy work life.

Now, a few things. I fell deeply in love with the bag and I do believe that investing in quality over quantity is always a better option. And while it would probably take me many, many years to spend $900 on cheap imitation handbags, I think if I had purchased the bag and loved the hell out of it and used it every day for the past seven years then maybe, just MAYBE I could justify the cost. Possibly.

But as it stands I purchased the bag for my someday-life, which brings me to the point of this whole post.

When I bought it, I did use it occasionally, but my real purpose/justification was in using it one day when I was a career gal with a high-paying job and a corner office. I’m not sure why any of this featured in my daydreams since I’m a mediocre, unambitious worker at best who has no desire or drive to climb the corporate ladder. If it was a rare, slightly unappetizing proposition then, now it’s just a wild fantasy/nightmare. I don’t want any of that, and I never did. Even when I bought the bag, I didn’t want any of that. These days? My wallet is my phone case, I don’t even carry a handbag, and my diaper bag is some canvas sack I grabbed off the free table at work. I do not have and will never have a fancy life.

I’ve thought a lot about my past visions for my future vs. eventual realities of how everything actually worked out. I’ve been bitching a lot to my friends and family about how I’m having a midlife crisis. So maybe it’s pre-midlife, but post-quarter life. I’m just having some kind of crisis. I’m feeling very unfulfilled and stuck and I don’t know what to do about it.

This new job I have is really great and probably the best I can do right now in terms of full-time jobs… but. There’s a but. I can’t help but wonder what the Point of It all is. I feel grateful to have a job that pays me, but I feel guilty leaving my kids for the bulk of my day every single day. I know that I’m working to provide for them, and there is so much merit in that, but I’m missing out on their amazing little lives in order to write marketing copy for businesses. We have such a short time on this Earth. Is this really how I’m supposed to be spending mine?

I keep seeking out a sign and coming up empty. I’ve also been trying to formulate exactly what I’d want if this were a perfect world where money were no object and I could do or be anything. What would I be and do?

Here’s what I’ve figured out so far…

  • I wouldn’t be a stay at home mom, at least not 100% of the time. Even after weekends of 24/7 kid time I feel totally drained. I don’t know how full-time SAHMs do it.
  • I would be writing things. Maybe from home, freelance, per-project. But I’d be getting paid.
  • I would take small trips with other adults (husband?) to recharge my batteries and step away from being “just mommy” all the damn time.
  • I would align myself with more people who shared my beliefs. Because right now I’m feeling exhausted and combative with all the negativity against what I believe, which yes, I take personally.

I think the irony to all of this is that I got the fancy, expensive education to advance my career. I got the fancy, expensive bag for that eventual career. But in the end, the only reason I am forced to participate in the career is BECAUSE of the education. Had I skipped college, I wouldn’t have to work full time, because I wouldn’t be paying $1,000+/month for student loans. Not that I could have known that then… but wow. And that’s on me. Obviously. I am not saying anyone but me should have to (literally) pay for this gross miscalculation…however, I do reserve the right to complain about it because venting helps me feel better. I think.

And the whole thing is just silly. Because I learned nothing in college that actually helps me in my current (non-fancy) career, or in any career for that matter. All of my skills either come naturally or through on-the-job training. But of course no one would have hired me without that $100,000 piece of paper. It’s all such a racket.

Well, this is a depressing post, isn’t it? I have no idea what the solution is… all I know at this moment is that I’m (mentally and physically) exhausted, disillusioned, and restless. I feel guilty for complaining but also justified in wanting more, which is tricky. I think about my fancy bag all the time and everything it represents… how naive I was at 24. How reckless I was with money when I should have been cautious. How much I let movies/television/pop culture influence my vision of how life would be when I was an “adult.”

And honestly I would just sell the stupid thing on Poshmark, taking a loss but making a few extra bucks for groceries or diapers or something else disgustingly practical that I need in my unfancy real life, but a part of me is still holding on to the fantasy that maybe, one day, it will make sense for me. I still think it’s pretty.

And because I know you’re curious now…

the bag that launched 1,000 existential crises ()

the bag that launched 1,000 existential crises (source.)

…and a happy new year

It’s been forever. I’m blaming technology.

Or should I say, lack thereof. I had to turn in my work laptop which was functioning as my personal laptop for the past two years. No computer = no blog posts. Eric has been valiantly trying to resurrect my old, dead HP but it’s probably a lost cause. Meanwhile, at my new job I’m on the list to get a laptop but I’m not first in line, meaning I’ll have a few months of using this sad excuse for my lack of consistent posting.

When we last left off… it was forever ago. In the interim between then and now, Christmas happened, New Year’s happened, I started my new job and things are moving right along. I have to say it’s pretty weird to once again be a functioning member of the workforce. While technically no time lapsed between my last day worked at Rodale my first day with Altitude (besides the holidays), I had been laid off six weeks prior and let’s just say things had become verrrrrry lax in December. It was really great for things like coming in late due to oil change appointments and leaving early basically every day after taking two hour lunches, but now that I’m once again expected to be in the office and working 40 hours per week, it’s a real shock to the system.

The funny thing is I don’t even miss getting paid to do “nothing.” Having no tasks and no future with the company made me bored and irritated, and as hard as it is adjusting to busyness, it feels good to once again feel like I’m contributing something. Like, if I’m going to haul my ass out of bed at 6AM, shower, dress, drop my kids off, and drive 40 minutes, it might as well be for something of value to someone. I’m very pleased so far with my new company and everyone has been over-the-top welcoming and kind. Really, my only complaint is that I need a laptop so I can blog.

On the baby front, I have my first ultrasound tomorrow. Eep! I truly have no symptoms, besides random waves of nausea that last for no longer than 15 minutes at a time. I am positively dreading telling my new employer that I’m preggo and I don’t know why. I think they will react well – besides asking the obvious question, “Are you intending to come back, or do you have an untapped trust fund which would allow you to put three kids in daycare?”

The truth is I don’t know and I didn’t plan that far ahead. It’s weird for me because I’m a planner, and a control freak, and not planning is the antithesis of everything I stand for. I guess in my mind having this baby (and the others) is way too important and since the problem had no solution, I pushed forward despite it being a crazy idea. At first I stayed calm and believed a solution would just appear. Now as things progress, I’m starting to panic a little. I still have a lot of time… but we all know time flies when you’re having fun.

My sister is having her baby in July and as of then (if not before) she will not be watching my brood anymore. I called earlier this week to price out daycare and promptly threw up in my mouth. Whyyyyy is it so expensive, whyyyyy? I think at this point, the ideal situation would be to find someone reputable who operated an in-home daycare that was accepting more children. Or, to send them to my daycare of choice (which in the grand scheme of daycares, isn’t even that expensive, but still way more than what I’ve been paying all this time) on a part-time basis and somehow finagle our schedules to only have them in 25 hours per week (which would save us something like $300/month). A final option would be to find someone to come to the house, but I can’t imagine a person like that would be cheaper than daycare. I guess I’ll just have to wait and see.

As for what happens post-September… I’m not even going to think about that right now. One day at a freaking time. In other news, if you know Mary Poppins or anyone similar, please let me know. I’m in the market.

The kids are doing well for the most part. Liam has a cold this week and in typical male fashion is just being super dramatic about it. He just wants to be held and rocked while he moans and complains, which is fine by me to some extent. He’s now walking if not running full time, still getting into everything, and starting to dabble in speaking by mimicking our tones and inflections when he babbles. If we’re in the car and I say, “Liam?” he’ll always respond with,“Mmm?” It’s super cute.

Molly went from absolutely dead-set against potty training to 90% trained in a matter of 4 days. That’s just proof that I needed to be patient and wait until she was ready. Sometimes she wakes up dry, sometimes not, but as for during the day she rarely has accidents and was VERY excited to pick out a new potty seat to go on the big potty last weekend.

Other than that, not much, just trying to survive the bitter cold temps and constantly broken down furnace. I am tackling a Whole30 this month despite being in my first trimester, which I know is pretty ambitious. The Whole30 is completely safe to do while pregnant and I’m eating plenty, don’t worry. My main goal is to feel better, function better, sleep better, and also put off how long it takes me to show so I can delay telling my employer for as long as possible. Which I realize is totally ridiculous since I swear I already have a bump. Dammit.

Ok, wish me luck on that U/S tomorrow! The thing I want most (besides seeing a good strong heartbeat) is to finally be taken off the PIO injections. She’s had me doing oral + injections for 2 weeks as an overlap so I didn’t have a sudden drop in progesterone, but I am anxiously awaiting the day I can stop injections in my poor, sore, lumpy back.

Pray for me, friends.

the 12 best blog posts I ever read

Over the years I’ve been mentally cataloging the best blog posts on the interwebs. When I need a good laugh or a good cry, these are the posts I return to again and again. They’re the ones I email around to coworkers on boring Monday afternoons so we can all take a break from the monotony. They’re the links I share on Facebook on those rare occasions I bother posting anything to Facebook. These are the posts that make me want to be a better writer and a more frequent blogger.

I want to share them with you because you’re here, reading this blog, which proves you have excellent taste (insert laughing crying emoji here). This is also a fervent plea for more posts to add to the list – what am I missing? What should I be reading? I’ve been slowly building up my list over the years, but I know I must be be missing plenty of great content. If there’s a post or a blogger who you love beyond words, please, share the wealth!

Here are a few of my favorite posts of all time:

FOR LAUGHING

1) For if you’ve ever bought something from craigslist, or if you just enjoy overly dramatic storytelling:
The KINGDOM mirror– proving that you NEVER KNOW what is on the other end of a Craigslist ad. – Victoria Elizabeth Barnes

2) For if your husband thinks you’re nuts but your friends think you’re hilarious, and if you shop the clearance section at HomeGoods:
And that’s why you should learn to pick your battles – The Blogess

3) For if you’ve ever considered buying something from a super sketchy foreign website:
This is What Happens When You Order Ridiculously Cheap Clothing From Singapore – Suburban Turmoil

4) For if you read and silently judge children’s books:
All of my Issues with the “Goodnight Moon” Bedroom – The Ugly Volvo

5) For if you consider fart jokes even remotely funny (which I don’t really, but this is an exception):
The Fart That (Almost) Altered My Destiny – HaHas for HooHas

6) For if you’ve ever complained that life is hard after the year 1900:
Pioneer Moms Vs. Modern Moms – Victoria Fedden

FOR CRYING

7) For explaining infertility to someone who wants to understand but doesn’t understand:
Letter to New Moms – something beautiful

8) For exhausted new moms, especially those with difficult babies:
When Love Feels Heavy – N’tima Preusser (Coffee + Crumbs)

9) For every mother who has ever loved so hard it made them cry:
Sometimes I Cry – Motherhood and More

FOR COMMISERATING

10) For moms with young-ish kids who have totally become that microwave-your-coffee-three-times-and-keep-forgetting-about-it cliche and want to feel better about this season of life:
This stage of life? It’s hard – Austin City Moms Blog

11) For the default parents – yes, if you’re reading this, that’s probably you:
The Default Parent – M. Blazoned

12) For when it’s super hard to make mom friends and you just wanna get to 4th base already:
Dating for Moms – Unexpected

little red riding hood & the princess paradise bear

I like to think of myself as a semi-savvy shopper.

And while I don’t do any extreme couponing (because I have neither the time nor the storage space for 700 free tubes of toothpaste), I do participate in my fair share of discount shopping. Some things I don’t mind paying full price for. Some things I am vehemently opposed to paying full price for.

Example: Halloween costumes. Those chintzy polyester outfits that children wear for approximately 2 hours for one day of the year. I hate the exorbitant expense of Halloween costumes, especially since most of them are terrible quality and have a ridiculously high markup because, of course, parents neeeeed them.

I’m happy that Molly doesn’t fully grasp the concept of Halloween yet, and that I was still able to choose her costume for her (next year, I imagine I won’t be so lucky). A coworker actually came up with the idea for this year’s theme. She told me about a cute costume duo she saw for sale on one of those Facebook online yard sale sites: little red riding hood and the big bad wolf. I said, “Yes! Yes! I want them!” but of course they had already sold.

Even though I missed out on that deal, I still forged on with the LRRH/BBW theme in mind. Determined not to pay full price, I turned to my favorite of all discount sites… eBay! I found plenty of reasonably priced LRRH outfits but they were all made from that shiny, cheapo polyester, and many were missing vital components (like…THE RED HOOD). I scrolled and scrolled until I hit the jackpot – a handmade, beautiful costume with the dress, bloomers, hood, and a coordinating little basket, all for $14.99 (+$6.80 shipping). UM, HOW ABOUT YES PLEASE? I literally sent the woman a thank you note for offering such a beautiful item. It was the score of all Halloween costume scores.

Next up – BBW, which was a little trickier. Those fuzzy, cuddly baby costumes don’t come cheap, even on eBay. Most were in the $40-$50 range, and as much as I loved and needed the costume, I couldn’t quite justify that price on something he’d wear for one stinkin’ night. Just as I was about to give up and order one of the expensive options, I noticed something interesting in the “People Who Viewed This Also Viewed” section. The description said “Princess Paradise Bear Costume Size 12/18 Months” BUT the photo was exactly the same as the other wolf costumes I was looking at. The best part? It was $4.88 (+ $6.45 shipping). I was so excited! I figured it was worth the $11 gamble to see if it really was named incorrectly. (And since I was shopping in September, uncharacteristically ahead of deadline, I had time to buy a new costume if it did turn out to be a princess bear).

The week it took to ship the costume was excruciating. I kept wondering… would it be a wolf? Would it be a bear? Would it be the exact thing I was looking for and somehow only cost $11? I knew it sounded too good to be true, but I still held out hope. When the package arrived, I ripped it open and… hallelujah! It was the wolf costume I wanted! (Further research uncovered that Princess Paradise is actually a brand name, but the whole “bear” part still confuses me because it’s clearly a wolf).

little red riding hood & the big bad wolf (a.k.a. princess paradise bear)

little red riding hood & the big bad wolf (a.k.a. princess paradise bear)

So all told, I got a handmade/non-chintzy little red riding hood costume and a cute furry big bad wolf costume for a combined total of $33.12 – less than some people spend on just ONE costume. I was feeling good.

But don’t think it’s all sunshine and roses over here, because my next eBay shopping experience didn’t go nearly so well.

Last year I found this awesomeness right here:

My husband is a Star Wars fan, and I am a let’s-coordinate-a-super-cute-family-photo-Christmas-card fan, so I figured we could combine our loves and get some matching Christmas jammies. WELL. Hanna Andersson makes high quality apparel and it is (justifiably) pricey. To order the organic cotton, Star Wars themed, matching Christmas pajama sets for my family (not including the dogs) would have cost $244. YIKES. Then we also would have needed to pay for a photo session, order cards, and pay to mail all the cards. So no, we didn’t do that.

This year I figured I’d keep up my winning eBay streak and search for those same Star Wars pajamas from last year. I thought that since it was a year ago, maybe I could find them for much cheaper. And I did! The first results that populated were those exact same pajama sets that I saw last year, same photos and everything, only this time ranging in price from $6.99 to $15.99. I happily purchased four pj sets for under $50.

Now, one important fact to mention: I did notice that they were shipping from China. But in my little eBay fantasy daydreams, I imagined that the factories who made the Hanna Andersson sets from last Christmas were simply unloading their excess inventory at a low, direct-to-consumer cost. Or that they had done some extra runs on the sly to sell for themselves. I used to work in the apparel industry but I’m still quite naive as to how it all works. Those two scenarios both sounded plausible. High on my Halloween costume success, I imagined receiving perfect organic cotton Christmas jammies with Hanna Andersson quality and China-low prices.

As I said, this story doesn’t have happy ending. The first two pajama sets arrived 3 weeks after I ordered them and they were terrible. The fabric was very low quality (basically the opposite of organic cotton). They smelled like chemicals. And worst of all, the sizes were completely off. The pants were narrow and tight while the shirts were comically short and wide. It reminded me of this amazingly hilarious post from a couple years ago about the perils of ordering cheap clothing from overseas.

I went back to the listing to check out the return policy and noticed that the vendor claimed to have shipped all four sets, yet I had only received two of the four. So not only did I need to figure out how to return the horrendous short & wide pjs, but I was also stuck disputing the shipping claim and hoping for a refund on the two missing sets. Oh, and while the seller does accept returns, the customer (ME) is stuck paying for the return shipping. To China.

The moral of this story is that you win some and you lose some. Your amazing, too-good-to-be-true eBay deal might be a crazy cheap and awesome mislabeled wolf costume, or it might be a crappy pair of wide & smelly pajamas.

Hope you all had a lovely Halloween, and happy discount shopping to all!

trick or treat night with the fam

trick or treat night with the fam

ALL THE CANDY!

ALL THE CANDY!

when it rains, it pours

Drama this week. Unfortunately.

Eric is on a business trip in Texas all week – he left Sunday and isn’t coming back until Friday. Which is suuuuuper annoying because I was counting on him to bring the kiddos in to work for our Trick or Treat extravaganza on Friday. Now that he works from home, I thought it would be so easy… but no. I work 40 minutes from my house and as you can imagine, no one in my family was jumping at the chance to schlep my kids over to my work at 4pm on a Friday afternoon. Actually, most of them were already busy with their own Halloween activities that day. So boo.

Funny story… my ex-boyfriend’s sister is a SAHM who coincidentally lives less than a mile from where I work. I am still friendly with her (I think she follows my blog maybe? Brittany? Hello?). Anyway, in desperation I messaged her and asked if there was any way she’d want to earn some extra cash watching two little munchkins for a few hours. I think my message said something like, one is super easy and helpful… the other can be a handful but he’s cute so you forgive him for it. Fully prepared for her to think I was a total weirdo, imagine my surprise when she wrote back that not only could she do it, but that people asked her to babysit all the time and she already had a pre-specified rate and backup help (her younger sister, now a teenager, who was literally 2 years old when I met her and that makes me feel hella old). So yay me, at least that mini conundrum was solved.

Sunday afternoon my cousin Kate had her confirmation. I was traveling solo with both kids since Eric had already left (Molly: “Daddy’s up in the air-o-plane! Up in the sky!”). Of course that was the day Liam decided to be a complete terror in church. I made it through about 15 minutes of mass before he started screaming bloody murder. I had to take him outside (not even to the vestibule, but outside outside, that’s how loud he was). I walked with him, I tried food, I tried a bottle, I even strapped him into the car and drove around the block hoping he’d fall asleep – nothing worked. He just screamed at me for the next hour and I have no idea why. We all went back to my aunt’s house afterwards for refreshments and he clung to me the entire time, melting into a puddle of tears every time I left the room. I mean, he’s definitely a mama’s boy, but never that bad…

I noticed when he was open-mouthed and screaming into my face that he has half a molar popped through… so maybe it’s teething? I’m hoping. Thankfully he went down for the night no problem and seemed happy enough in the morning.

But the hits just kept coming. Liam was back to his old self, but when I got Molly out of bed she started crying saying her leg hurt. At first I figured it had just fallen asleep, but every time she walked on it or put weight on it at all she’d scream and cry and say it hurt. Thirty minutes went by and her condition seemed no better. I gave her some Tylenol and tried tapping her leg all over and twisting it this way and that, to make sure it wasn’t seriously hurt. She seemed fine when she was sitting, even when I was messing with it, but when it came to walking she was completely miserable.

The only incident I can think of that might have spurred this was a minor trip and fall on the sidewalk outside my aunt’s house yesterday. She got back up and didn’t even cry, and just had a tiny black and blue mark and a scrape (plus ripped a hole in her tights, which I was not happy about). She’s not normally that dramatic over boo boos, and I could tell she was trying very hard to walk normally and wanted to walk normally, not that she was playing it up for attention or band-aids or whatever. But for now I’m taking the wait and see approach.

My sister says she hasn’t walked all day (refuses) and has her knee wrapped up in an ace bandage (it’s clear that the knee is the problem). If any of you have horror stories about toddlers complaining of knee pain and it turning out to be something really serious, please share them now. I’m probably overreacting but it’s just frustrating and sad and so not what I want to be dealing with on my week of solo parenting.

Oh and let’s not forget the dog! As if on cue, Ryder is once again battling his skin issues, and has been relegated to the cone of shame. I called the vet this morning and thankfully he agreed to prescribe the medication without an office visit, so that’s a small relief. Still didn’t take the sting out of the fact that the prescription costs over $100. That dog…

Guys, all I want to do is go home, have a glass of wine, and watch The Walking Dead (which people have come SO CLOSE to spoiling for me all day!) Instead, I’m going to a late work meeting, running out the door, picking up both kids (literally, because neither can walk at the moment), racing to the vet (so far away and closes at 6pm), getting home, letting the dogs out (not normally my job and I hate it), dragging in the recycling bin, throwing something together for dinner, assessing Molly’s knee situation, and then most likely collapsing into bed.

Is it Friday yet? The husband I love to complain about is actually more helpful than I realized.