burnt toast life

double full time

It is taking every ounce of willpower for me to write this post. If you read any further than this, you’ll understand why.

You know those people who love to tell you being a stay-at-home-mom is a full-time job, or even more demanding than a full-time job because you work way more than 40 hours and never get paid? They’re absolutely right. Even if you have one child. Especially when you have two or three.

I am that. I am the primary caretaker for my children 24/7/365. (My husband may be a loving father but he’s not the one filling up those juice cups every 2 hours).

The thing is, I also have another full-time job.

On top of regular child-rearing, I also work a full-time regular job (from home). I don’t freelance a few hours per week. I don’t work on my business here and there when I can. No, I have a full-time workload with meetings, deadlines, production quotas, and oftentimes more than 40 hours worth of work that needs to get done.

This is why I’m not blogging lately.

When I first started my job, I didn’t see how I could possibly do both things simultaneously. And yes, in the summer I have the help of my 13-year-old sister, who does a good job of entertaining the kiddos for several hours at a time. But let’s be clear — she doesn’t change diapers, she doesn’t prepare meals, she doesn’t jump up the minute she hears, “Come wipe my buuuuuuuuuuuuuutt!” from the bathroom. She’s great for distracting the kids and they love her, but she is not a full-fledged au pair. Not even close.

Also, she returns to school in late August. Last year I frantically interviewed replacements, but then Eric’s hours at work took a hit and we couldn’t afford to have anyone start. After my maternity leave, I just kind of took it day by day, seeing if between the two of us we could both work from home without any outside help. And then we just kind of… did it.

Our setup has been working fine ever since. And by fine I mean… no one died or got fired (yet). But I’m definitely starting to feel the stress of it.

It’s partly because 95% of the time I’m the one with one eye on the kids, one eye on the laptop, simultaneously making sure no one falls down the stairs and formatting my articles. I’m forced to contend with multiple interruptions in the space of 10 minutes. I have taken conference calls from dentist offices. I have turned off my camera to breastfeed during a team meeting. I have worked from cars and campgrounds. Meanwhile, I have to stifle laughs when coworkers complain about their cats/dogs distracting them and affecting productivity. Oh, REALLY?!

But working from home and taking care of kids is also my greatest joy. I am so happy when my 10AM coffee break includes sloppy baby kisses. I love that I won’t miss Madeline’s first steps. I am known to take my kids to the park for a playdate instead of breaking for lunch or hauling my laptop to my in-law’s pool so my kids can play while I work. I’m getting the best of both worlds and I’m incredibly thankful for the opportunity.

The biggest problem is I never feel like I’m doing enough in either space. I want to devote more time to work but there is no more time. Little heads peek out at me from behind my laptop screen and want to play when I can’t. If I had $1 for every time I said, “Not now honey, Mommy’s working,” this wouldn’t even be an issue because I could quit right now and buy a private island.

No matter which task I’m focusing on, the other one gets neglected. There aren’t enough hours; there isn’t enough time. And when my cup is so empty at 9PM and the kids are finally asleep, the prospect of typing more words and using more brainpower is like some form of torture. That’s why this blog, which I used to enjoy so much, has become yet another source of frustration and guilt rather than the creative outlet I want it to be.

Obviously, the solution to this is simple: get help. A nanny, some part-time daycare, something. And that’s certainly a consideration for the future. For now, I just wanted to vent a little and let you all know where I’ve been. I’m here! Frantically trying to balance two full-time jobs and usually failing miserably.

Who complains about working poolside? I guess I do.

Who complains about working poolside? I guess I do.

camping utopia

There’s this campground we go to every year. It’s about 45 minutes away from my house, but somehow it feels like a different universe. I’d happily live there if I could.

How do I explain it? It’s like stepping back in time. It’s like living in a time before strangers in vans with candy, a time before the articles your friends share on Facebook made you want to weep for the world. At this campground, any kid old enough to ride a bike has one and uses it from sunup to sundown. It’s not uncommon to see kids as young as 7 cycling by themselves all around the grounds and not even worrying about it much because the speed limit it 5 MPH and everyone obeys it. Also, the bike curfew is strictly enforced (as Eric learned the hard way).

I don’t know if it’s coincidence or I’m just noticing it more now, but ever since we got home I keep seeing articles pop up about lonely moms who miss the “it takes a village” mentality of raising children. It seems like we’re all so isolated now, peering at our neighbor’s pristine white kitchens via Instagram rather than visiting their houses in real life and noticing the jelly fingerprints cropped from the photo. It’s depressing. We need to get back to the village.

The campground was like a village as a whole and because we were camping with the extended family. There were occasions where I lost track of Liam for periods up to half an hour. At first, it scared me out because I’m used to freaking out when I don’t have a direct sight line to my 2-year-old. But as the week went on, I learned to just go with it.

“Have you seen Liam?”

“Yeah, he was on the playground with the boys a little bit ago.”

“OK, cool, I’m sure he’ll turn up.”

I’m not naive — I know that no campground is immune to creeps and we did set some boundaries. When Molly said she met a new friend and was going to their campsite alone, I was like hell to the no you’re not. But still — camping at a place where kids could be kids and parents could stop helicoptering, where there was a lake for fishing and boating, where we biked instead of driving, where the highlight of every day was an antique fire truck ride for the kids — yeah, that was pretty awesome.

Fun fact: my mom took me to this same campground when I was a kid, though I have no recollection of it. Meanwhile, we’re already planning our trip for next year.

We love you, Otter Lake! Never change.

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here’s why she’s not getting any new toys for Christmas (seriously)

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There’s something undeniably pathetic about the pile of worn, pre-loved presents that I set aside to wrap for Madeline. Do I not love my third child enough? the critical voice in my head demands.

I felt guilty about it for about five seconds. Then I move on.

I remember Molly’s first Christmas well. She was six months old and even though Eric and I promised that we wouldn’t go overboard because she didn’t need anything and wouldn’t know any better, we swiftly broke our own rule. Somewhere, in my iCloud, there’s a video of both of us excitedly ripping open the same presents we wrapped a few days before as a bewildered (yet adorable) infant gazes on. Predictably, she only wanted to play with the boxes.

This year I actually stuck to my word for several reasons. The first is a matter of practicality. Eric is a consultant who only gets paid for hours worked, which has never affected us before but has suddenly become a real and important detail of his job. Almost zero billable hours available in December has meant a round of layoffs (which he survived, thank God), several people quitting, and the two of us gritting our teeth and having to make a few tense phone calls to people like our mortgage company.

But don’t fret for us too much — this is all supposed to magically turn around in January (and if it doesn’t, he’ll have to look for some other sort of employment). Of course, when we’re literally counting pennies while grocery shopping, it doesn’t leave any wiggle room for extras like Christmas gifts. I was forced to rein it in this year.

The second reason is my desperate pursuit of minimalism, or as close to it as I can feasibly get with three kids. If you think about it, our financial crisis couldn’t have come at a better time. I’ve gotten really good at limiting the number of new items coming into the house (see above, re: our income took a nosedive), but not so great at purging all the stuff I accumulated before my minimalist epiphany.

There is a medium-sized basket full of baby toys that I know Madeline will play with and enjoy. Since my firstborn was female, most of the toys are even pink and stereotypically girl-themed (a fact which never bothered infant aged Liam in the slightest). The only reason I’m putting forth the effort to wrap them is because of my 3-year-old, who will surely cry if her beloved baby sister doesn’t have any gifts from Santa (I can just imagine the conversation now: “Mommy, was she BAD? Does Santa think our baby is a BAD BABY?”)

As for the explanation over Madeline receiving pre-loved gifts, I’m still trying to figure out how I should explain it (and am open for suggestions if you have any). For now, I’m thinking I’ll tell her that Santa knew she would love Molly’s toys better than any new ones and so he stopped by, brought them to his workshop to polish them up, and brought them back all wrapped and ready. Or, Molly will be so enamored by her own presents that she won’t even notice.

The other two did get brand-new-purchased-from-the-store toys… but not very many. Ask Molly what she wants for Christmas and you’ll be rewarded with a list of three items that has not changed one bit since early November:

“For Christmas, I want Shimmer and Shine a big giant LOL Ball and Satin and Chenille.” Now imagine this said in one giant breath as if she’s being timed on it.

Shimmer and Shine are characters from a Nickelodeon cartoon that I’m almost certain she’s never seen. Satin and Chenille are from Trolls. A big giant LOL ball is a total ripoff and also one of the hottest toys of the Christmas season. It’s sold out everywhere and enterprising Ebayers are gleefully charging double what they paid. Obviously, I got her one (not from eBay).

She also has a couple other things I saw and purchased because the girl is so dang easy to shop for. Liam is the total opposite. He’s not really “into” anything yet, besides the show Beat Bugs on Netflix, so he got some appropriately-themed items. We also picked up a used Strider balance bike from my SIL as his big gift for the year. (Cost = free).

Eric and I agreed not to purchase anything for each other either. Overall, it’s going to be an extremely light Christmas, gift-wise. But I’m getting to be OK with that.

I’m trying so hard to be grateful every day for what I have. A friend of mine just shared a link about the horrible situation going on in Venezuela where children are literally starving to death thanks to a corrupt government. I read things like that, or articles about real poverty in our own country, and I can’t help but feel ridiculous for complaining that my kids won’t have mountains of presents on Christmas morning. Money may be tight, but for God’s sake we’re eating. I don’t go to bed at night wondering if my children will starve to death. I just cannot fathom.

So that’s my spiel, a.k.a. justification for skimping out on baby Madeline’s first Christmas. I can’t feel too bad for the kid since the only thing she’s interested in is boobies and, lately, examining her hands. It’s a fact: 4-month-old babies don’t care how many presents they get on Christmas morning.

Madeline, if you’re reading this in 20 years, know that mama loves you immensely. You might not have stacks on stacks of brand new presents, but you do have a pre-chewed Sophie the Giraffe.

And that is enough.

currently

I promised myself I’d get around to posting something BEFORE the birth of the baby, which now is just three days away and who am I kidding, it’s not going to be some epic summer recap full of photos like I wanted it to be.

Just know that our summer was glorious.

It was truly everything I wanted it to be. Relaxed, fulfilling, joyful. Stressful yet satisfying. At this point I’m 90% positive you’re sick of hearing how much I love working from home but I don’t even care, I’m saying it one more time: IT IS SO GOOD. I had pool days on Tuesdays, I had afternoons free to do whatever with the kids, I had farm visits for my lunch break. I had 11AM snuggle time and exactly zero stressful commutes. It was trying at times (whining kids + deadlines = stress), but also worth it. Now that I’ve tasted this side of life I’m never going back.

I’d say my biggest complaint about the summer has been the physical demands of being 7 then 8 then freaking 9 months pregnant. Two days shy of 39 weeks and I’ve hit a wall. I’ve figured out that every day I’m able to complete one physically demanding task — anything from grocery shopping to carrying a box up to the attic to visiting a playground — and after that I’m useless. My to-do lists are laughable thanks to these limitations and now I’m totally out of time. Everyone has been making fun of the fact that I haven’t packed my hospital bag yet… well, I’m getting there. But that will be the only thing I do that day and so far it keeps getting bumped in favor of more exciting stuff.

But anyway. In an effort to keep this blog on track and actually produce some content, I’m going to try some writing prompts. Without further ado, here is my edition of “currently” for 8/21, aka Solar Eclipse Day, aka today.

Reading…
I’ve been reading A LOT in the last couple of weeks, mostly because that’s the only thing I can do that doesn’t cut into my “one thing per day” quota. Also, my neighbor is a teacher and home for the summer, plus she’s a book-a-phile like I am, so she runs to the library (since Lord knows I don’t have the energy for all that), picks up a big pile, and we swap back and forth. I read so many books this way I lost count, including one book in a matter of 24 hours when I was laid low on the couch recovering from the stomach bug. The kids watched movies while I tore through a novel. Probably the only thing good about the stomach bug is not having any guilt about “wasting” a perfectly good summer day literally not moving from one position except to flip a page.

If you want to know all the titles I’ve been reading lately, check out my Goodreads. But at this very moment in time I’m about 100 pages into Swimming Lessons, which is OK not great.

Watching…
It’s amazing how little TV I watch, especially since cutting cable over a year ago. I watch Game of Thrones and that’s really it. However, I do anticipate wanting to watch more stuff once I’m up at all hours breastfeeding because I don’t know if I’ll have the mental capacity for books like I do now. I’m actually dreading my hospital visit because my sister told me there are literally NO good channels; they don’t even have HGTV! It’s a little sad how disappointed I am about that.

BUT, I do have Netflix and Amazon Prime. So any suggestions you have for someone who is unapologetically ruthless and picky in regards to television, I would love to hear them.

Listening…
To silence. Can I get an Amen for kids who nap at the same time? It is one of my favorite things.

Drinking…
Water + flavor drops out of my new Atlin cup! It’s supposed to be a Yeti knockoff and so far I’m loving it. I can’t believe how long it keeps my drink cold… I’m talking insulated enough to keep ice cubes intact for 12+ hours. Plus, I got it on Amazon for $11, as opposed to like $40 or whatever for the almighty Yeti. #winning

Eating…
Nothing. Shockingly. I am already thinking about dinner, when I’m making some sort of very healthy concoction of crescent rolls and chicken that resembles chicken pot pie.

Wearing…
Last night’s pajamas. At 3 in the afternoon. Not ashamed.

Loving…
My job! And not just the work from home aspect, though that’s clearly the main appeal. The exciting news of the hour is that they asked me to go full-time following my maternity leave. This was after I said I didn’t really need maternity leave since I’d be home, but they kind of insisted. Which, I’ll admit was sort of an awkward phone call with HR but thankfully it all worked out in the end.

So basically I admitted that I can’t afford six weeks off with no pay. They agreed to let me work when I wanted, logging hours as I wanted, but no pressure throughout the month of September, then start up full-time hours at the beginning of October. Which is like, absolutely perfect and everything I ever wanted.

I even get to set my own schedule, so I’ll be working 7-3 and still off in the afternoons. AND I found a mother’s helper. It’s just… it couldn’t be better. Everyone from my boss to HR to my whole team is so friendly and chill and accommodating, and now I have the added bonus of making a full-time salary to boot. I could not possibly be more satisfied with how it all worked out.

Anticipating…
Uh, I dunno, how about HAVING A FREAKING BABY ON FRIDAY?

Hoping…
Really hoping everything goes well with my c-section. This is my first planned section, so I have way too much time to Google complications and stuff. I may or may not have asked my OB/GYN how she “knows when to stop cutting so she doesn’t slice the baby.”

Wondering…
If I’m the only one who isn’t 6,000% jazzed about a solar eclipse. I’m just not that excited. There, I said it.

Trying…
To motivate myself to pack a hospital bag.

Worrying…
About surgery and recovery, plus Liam dealing with not being the baby anymore. I think he’s really going to have a hard time adjusting and I’m just dreading that part.

Planning…
I’m pretty proud of how much I got done in anticipation of Molly starting preschool ten days after the baby is born. I finished her back to school shopping, got her an outfit… she’s ready to go, and she’s so excited about it.

Contemplating…
A nap. But I really shouldn’t.

OK, time to go maybe take that nap and/or read some more! Have I mentioned how much I love coordinated nap times for the kids?

We had such a great summer.

We had such a great summer.

reflections on one month at home

It’s been juuuuust over a month of doing the work-at-home mom thing and I thought I’d recap a few observations I’ve noticed in that time. So I can look back and laugh or cringe in a few years when everything is completely different, obviously.

Observation 1: There’s time for boredom.

Those first two weeks were a total whirlwind of figuring out my schedule and settling into a new state of being, but now that I’ve kind of gotten into the groove there are plenty of moments where I’m just… bored.

It’s so weird to be bored.

Granted, I have two young children and they keep me busy, but without the added stress of commuting and working a full time schedule, now there’s actually downtime in my afternoon that wasn’t there before. I have a list of random little projects to tackle that I’ve been chipping away at but it really feels weird to actually be doing them rather than just endlessly adding items and knowing they’ll never get done. I finally cleaned and organized my spice rack and one shelf (baby steps) of my linen closet. It’s incredible. I shudder to think what I’ll be able to accomplish when I’m not 7 months pregnant and super lazy.

Observation 2: I could never be a full time SAHM.

I already knew this about myself but now I REALLY know it. Even working part time makes me a little antsy, like I need to fill my hours with something else or like I’m forgetting to do something. I also find myself allotting way too much time for simple tasks that I used to schedule much differently. Like, I’ll mentally block off an entire afternoon for a quick grocery store run that I used to accomplish in 30 minutes.

Plus, being stuck in the house on rainy days is some particular form of torture. I’m not creative enough to come up with fun activities plus I am working for the mornings. So I’m just stuck with antsy kids who need an outlet. SO FUN.

Observation 3: The weather rules my life.

No offense to old people but… wow, I’m like an old person with how obsessed I’ve become about the weather. I’m constantly checking it and planning my life around it, mostly because our main excitement every day is going to my MIL’s pool, which of course we can’t do in the rain. Last week was crappy and we were going so stir crazy that I loaded up the kids and took them to McDonald’s so they could run around the play place (#parentoftheyear).

Actually, I felt really good about myself because Molly has literally never been to a McDonald’s in her life and kept asking if we were going to see “old McDonald had a farm” and I haven’t been inside one in so many years that I didn’t even know their screens are all digital now. The kids loved the play area and it was just what they needed. Molly marched up to two little girls there and said, “Hi. I’m Molly. I like you guys. Let’s go play.” It’s truly a shame about how shy she is…

But then she was having so much fun playing that she forgot to tell me she had to go potty and ended up having an accident. In the climbing structure. Fun times.

Observation 4: I will never go back to an office. Ever.

So I thought a part of me would miss hanging out with coworkers… or office life in general… but as it turns out, NOPE.

Seriously, I’m sure you’re all sick of hearing this since my last three posts have mentioned it, but if there’s any feasible way for you to do your job from home – make it happen. It’s sooooo good. I’m not going back and you can’t make me.

I supposed that’s it for observations. The end of June was particularly crazy but now on the other side of that it looks like I have absolutely nothing going on between now and Baby Girl’s arrival besides our family beach trip the first week of August. The lack of busyness is actually kind of sad, and I’d love to find something to fill the space between besides just really long grocery store outings and weather checking. It’s sort of annoying to be a faux SAHM, as I like to call myself, because I can’t schedule things in the mornings when I have office hours and by afternoon it’s nap time and after that time to make dinner. I know, I know, FIRST WORLD PROBLEMS.

I do truly enjoy all the extra time spent with the kids and the other morning I came to the realization that I would not have to supplement this baby (hopefully) due to decreased milk supply after returning to work. I know I’ll have to pump so I can get a little stash but it’s not like I’ll have a 3-times-a-day date with my breast pump in a closet somewhere. That is so cool.

Finding a mother’s helper for the fall has been a particular sort of torture because no one seems to have accountability anymore. The first girl I messaged with for several days sounded like she had so much potential. We scheduled a meeting – she bailed – and then disappeared off the face of the earth. Ohhh kaayyyyy…

The second girl rescheduled twice on me and then showed up late. (Traffic. Obvi.) She was very nice but seemed very young, shy, and quiet for a 19-year-old. Was I like that at 19? Not that there’s anything with being shy… she just seemed, I dunno, immature. Maybe because I already had some negative first impressions from the scheduling issues. And the lack of punctuality.

My third candidate was supposed to come today but – surprise! – she had to reschedule! And she was my favorite, too. WHAT IS UP WITH PEOPLE? If I had a job interview, I would be there when I said I was going to be, and on time. I’m giving her another chance because I’m reaching a point of desperation. Good thing I started my search early…

Anything else? No. Time to go check the weather (again).

7QT on a Thursday

A lot of the bloggers I read now do this thing called 7QT, an acronym which took me an embarrassing amount of time to figure out and even when I Google it, nothing helpful comes up so maybe it’s just a v. v. small subset of the blogosphere using it. 7QT = 7 quick takes = 7 random things going on right at this moment.

So since I can’t seem to get my ish together to write a long post with any kind of cohesive theme and since I have so many things to cover all the time, I’m just going to go with it.

1. My baby is turning 3 tomorrow. MY BABY. IS TURNING. 3. TOMORROW.
If I’m being honest though, I feel like she’s been 3 for a while now because I do this thing where I round up my kids’ ages, which my mom calls me crazy for but sometimes it just makes sense. Like, she was calling my little sister 11 literally the day before her 12th birthday and I’m like, mom, get over it. She’s 12.

Maybe I round up kind of early but oh well. Part of it is that she acts 3 and has been exceptionally mature for such a long time, I just can’t think of her as 2. And because it’s been so gradual I haven’t exactly noticed it, but at times I’ll go back and watch videos of her from as close as 6 months ago and just be amazed at the difference in how she speaks. I’ve been taking for granted how easy it is to communicate even complex emotions with her and as much as I hate that she’s growing up, I also love it. She’s becoming her own little individual with quirks and mannerisms and I can’t wait to see what’s up next.

We’re having a very tiny get-together at our house tomorrow with pizza and cake. Half the family can’t be there and since my sister is so close to popping out her kid, I’m truly expecting her to call me tonight and announce she’s in labor. Which would be cool since Molly and her cousin would share a birthday, but would also NOT be cool because her family is half our party guests and Molly is so thrilled about her little not-really-a-party that I can’t bear to break her little heart.

2. I’m also, ahem, 30 weeks pregnant as of yesterday. WHAT.
No closer to being ready for the baby to come, but I did buy an obnoxiously large box of baby wipes at SAMS Club yesterday and got a little weepy when I realized that many of them would be wiping a tiny baby bottom very soon. Very, very soon.

3. Molly gives birth every day.
Not surprisngly, Molly’s favorite thing to play lately has been “having a baby.” She stuffs dolls and balls under her shirt, insists I call the doctor, and even has a green plastic saw that she uses to get the baby out. I’m not sure how she knows to lie down with her knees up and to wince in pain when the baby is actually being extracted… (seriously…), but she does. Maybe it’s some innate woman thing.

4. Working from home is absolutely glorious.
I cannot stress this enough. I love it. Loooooove itttttt. There were definitely some bumps in the road and there still will be, but overall I am completely happy and feel like I am where I need to be. On beautiful days, I pack up a lunch and bring the kids to my MIL’s pool around lunchtime (along with my au pair, who watches them until I’m done working). So when I sign off at 2PM, I’m literally poolside. That’s how I’m spending my summer. Not stuck in an office… not counting down the minutes until the weekend… at the pool, with my family. I am so grateful for this job it’s ridiculous.

And while I wasn’t expecting this, I actually like the job itself, too. I became so obsessed with the idea of working from home that I would have taken any opportunity to do so, even a really awful sounding one. But I really like my team, I like the things I’m writing, and I felt this definite surge of pride when I got companywide props today when one of my articles was trending on Yahoo.

I’d say my only complaint is that I’m running into the issue Eric warned me about with working from home… since my office is in my home, I’m always at work, and I have noticed I seem to work more now than I did before. I’m one of those people who likes to have things “done,” so if one of my articles is ready for the next step at 7PM, I’ll totally want to log on and do it, rather than waiting for morning. I need to stop doing that.

5. Liam is talking…and eating… and eating.
I found the best swimsuit for Liam that says “Always Hungry” with a giant open shark mouth on it and it’s truly like it was meant for him. He eats and eats and eats and eats and then announces he’s hungry. The only time he isn’t eating is when he’s sleeping… and he has totally fallen asleep while eating. Bottomless. Pit.

He also picked up the phrase “I want to get out,” but not necessarily the proper usage for it. So “I want to get out” could mean anything from I want get out to I want to get up, get down, go there, open that, eat this. It’s really universal.

Also, he says it in this pretty awesome Arnold Schwarzenegger-esque accent, so picture it repeated 100 times a day as sounding like “I wanna get AHHHWWWT!”

6. I’ve become obsessed with Jane.
As in, this super cute daily deals site. I’m not actually buying things because hello, 7 months pregnant, but I am pining over them and anxiously awaiting a day when I’m NOT super fat so I can get all the things for none of the monies. Check them out.

7. This is the busiest week ever.
Molly’s dance recital dress rehearsal was today, her birthday/mini party is tomorrow, her recital is Saturday, and Sunday we leave for a week of camping. I’m pretty excited to be extending our normal weekend camping jaunts into a longer trip because getting everything packed and ready for camping is no small feat and then it seems like such a waste to only stay for a weekend. After our camping week, we head back home and thankfully don’t have much going on for July besides our annual beach trip. So maybe I can spend some time getting stuff ready for the baby. HA!

I would promise to speak soon, but that could be a total lie, so how about I’ll just leave it at I’ll see ya when I see ya and goodnight (it is almost 9PM, after all).

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!

 

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

…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.