I saw a Facebook friend post about this just this morning. A 20-something lady asked her husband why his wife doesn't iron his shirts for him? After all, his wife stays home. First of all, she does work for pay, but primarily works from home. Second, even if she stayed home full-time, what does that have to do with ironing shirts? It got me to thinking, have we really come very far in the moms should stay home to nurture their children versus moms should work full-time outside the home to provide for their family debate? Why is it even still a debate anyway?
I thought long and hard about whether to go back to work (as I thought of it then) after having my daughter. Despite marrying young, Darrell and I waited a while to have children, both because of a promise I kept and because of his health soon after we married. So, we were very used to being dinks (you know, double-income-no-kids). My earning potential was nearly the same as his, but it was very evident to us both that either he or our future offspring would not survive if Darrell stayed home with them as babies. We investigated childcare and about passed out at the expense of good-quality daycares and in-home care. Everyone tells you about saving for college, but at least at the time, it didn't seem like anyone had warned us that childcare was nearly as expensive. I also disliked my job and especially my hour and a half commute to work. That made the decision for us, I'd stay home at least for a while. A move when our daughter was only a few months old ensured I'd stay home with her longer.
But I got the itch to do some kind of paying, just for me work by the time she was about a year old. I started out by doing some consulting work from home for a company I'd previously worked for (yes, "consulting" during the early part of motherhood does seem to be code for "working some from home to keep a foot in the career world but still be here for my little one(s)") - and I only say that because I did it myself and have since recognized it on lots of other LinkedIn profiles.
And then we moved again (yes, it's a pattern that I'm sure you've noticed), and my ex-employer liked the work I'd done from home enough to offer me set, part-time work. My daughter ventured off to daycare/preschool, but only three days a week. I earned enough to pay for that, someone to help clean the house, occasional dinners out and other "extras" that we wanted. Once my daughter started kindergarten, they requested that I add some additional hours, maybe be available five days a week even if a slightly shorter day. I agreed, but only if they'd let me work from home from a different state (yes, another move) and warned them that I'd need a maternity leave the following year for baby #2.
By that time, I earned enough to pay for an awesome lady to come to the house to watch our son and our daughter as well in the summers. It was ideal - I was working just a little less than fulltime, but also was able to breastfeed as needed (no pumping!). We made sure our house had a separate office with a door, and the family learned to respect mommy's workday and space.
Things were going so well that, with another move, I decided to accept a full-time in-office position for a larger company. The only caveat was that I went in early so that I could get home in time to get my daughter from the bus stop and not leave my son at daycare/preschool too late. It was exhausting, mostly because our son was still small and my body rhythm was not well acquainted with getting up at 5am on a regular basis after too little sleep and two full shifts each day (one at work, one as mom to little ones with the occasional wife/laundry person/cook/etc. thrown in).
Also, things at the company, at least in my department, were not going well. What was the next logical step? Starting my own company, of course. I'd get to work from home again and further my career in a new way at the same time. Of course, there was certainly the possibility that I wouldn't earn any money, and in the end, it didn't work out. But that doesn't mean I'm not glad I tried it - it was a valuable learning experience I'll always remember. And I did earn a little money.
And, now, after an enjoyable hiatus taking a break with my kids and a tough time finding work for a bit, I'm back to working full-time, currently from home but soon spending most days in an office setting with one or two days a week spent working from home. I took this position over continuing the interview process for another one. The other job paid more, but this one spoke a lot about being family friendly, flexible, and offered up the ability to work from home as needed without me even asking. I'm fortunate enough that we can give me the choice to take a little less pay in exchange for flexibility. I'm honestly not sure how any family functions without at least one parent having flexibility, unless you also have a large, dependable network of friends and family.
But my main point in all this is to show that I've just about done it all since having kids - stayed home full-time, worked for pay both part-time and full-time, worked from home for pay both part-time and full-time. The only normal solution I can think of that we haven't tried is having Darrell stay home (and we both agree that wouldn't have been a realistic option until recently). And you know what? It's all tough. I used to say that any mom who worked at least part time outside the home deserved to have someone help clean their house, but I've changed my mind since then. If you stay home full-time, you deserve it, too. And no caveats based on the ages of your kids either. I thought the baby stage was the toughest right up until I had a teenager. And single parents? My heart melts for you. I absolutely have no idea how you do it.
The good news? From what I've observed (and even read), it seems like your work situation has very little to do with how your children turn out. I've seen great kids from all kinds of homes. So, WHY OH WHY do we bother to attack other women over their work status? And I may offer advice from time to time, but I mostly try to keep my mouth shut about how to properly raise kids anyway. It will be a long time until I really know whether Darrell and I were successful at this whole parenting thing anyway.
Oh, and ironing shirts for your husband, or even yourself. Please, if you've got time to iron, you deserve a gold star! If you actually iron your husband's shirts regularly, I certainly hope he has enough time to keep up with edging the yard or one of those other chores no parents seem to get to. Otherwise, why isn't he ironing his own shirt? Unless you just like to iron (as I think my mom does), then by all means, go for it.
And finally, to my friends who have chosen to stay home full-time for years, yes, you should be able to count that experience on a resume and in a job interview. I know with certainty that I'm a better employee since becoming a mom than I ever could have dreamed of being otherwise. (End of rant)
Thursday, May 16, 2013
Monday, April 29, 2013
Open Letter...
Dear future Plainfield/Indy-area friends,
I don't want to stress you out or anything, but you have big shoes to fill. I'll limp into our relationship missing lots of folks that have become very dear to me. I'll miss the ladies who have provided not just friendships for me, but friendships for my children. I know that I'll maintain many of these dear relationships, but it won't be the same as knowing that I can put out a call to host myself and my children for dinner, and actually have people do it!
I'm not confident that you, as my future neighbor, will have a daughter that looks so much like my own that they could easily pass for sisters, and that go in and out of each other's houses almost as easily as their own.
And you, my other neighbor, I'm not so sure that you will switch off bus pick-up duty with me at a moment's notice. I'm not so sure you'll love having my children over often. I'm not so sure that I can text or call you anytime of the day, or just drop in for tea to talk about work/life/husbands, etc. And I know you won't immediately suggest that we make dinner for each other's families to save ourselves the hassle of cooking one night a week.
And you, the folks with kids my son's age down the street. I don't know how I'll feel about letting him ride his bike to your house. I mean, you don't even have my cell phone number yet, how can I trust you to text me as soon as he arrives and as soon as he leaves? Can I trust you to tell me when he's misbehaving and know I'll appreciate it? Will you be willing to drop off your own son when my boy can't stand another after school or weekend day without a friend over? Will I, over the course of a week, potentially see you at Bible study, a school activity, and girl's night out in addition to when our sons are getting together? And, seriously, will you plan a birthday cruise and actually invite me along, all while keeping the expenses under $500?
And you, the first few ladies I meet in town that I really click with, will our husbands get along, too? Will our sons finish growing up together the way my other dear friends' sons spent the first half of their lives together? Will we come up with other cool excuses to get together, like game night?
Because, dear female friends, at various points in my life, I didn't even realize that I needed you, but I do. Desperately. And I have only lived in a few places where you've been right there. When I was young, I limited you to only a few who really knew me (and those I still hold dear). When I was a new mom, I clung to a lifeline of new moms as well. But Lexington is the only place I've built and been built into an entire network of friends.
I'll miss it deeply. And while I want to recreate it, I know it will be different again, too. But deep inside, I know that somehow it will work out, because this move was meant to be. It's just hard in the getting there.
I don't want to stress you out or anything, but you have big shoes to fill. I'll limp into our relationship missing lots of folks that have become very dear to me. I'll miss the ladies who have provided not just friendships for me, but friendships for my children. I know that I'll maintain many of these dear relationships, but it won't be the same as knowing that I can put out a call to host myself and my children for dinner, and actually have people do it!
I'm not confident that you, as my future neighbor, will have a daughter that looks so much like my own that they could easily pass for sisters, and that go in and out of each other's houses almost as easily as their own.
And you, my other neighbor, I'm not so sure that you will switch off bus pick-up duty with me at a moment's notice. I'm not so sure you'll love having my children over often. I'm not so sure that I can text or call you anytime of the day, or just drop in for tea to talk about work/life/husbands, etc. And I know you won't immediately suggest that we make dinner for each other's families to save ourselves the hassle of cooking one night a week.
And you, the folks with kids my son's age down the street. I don't know how I'll feel about letting him ride his bike to your house. I mean, you don't even have my cell phone number yet, how can I trust you to text me as soon as he arrives and as soon as he leaves? Can I trust you to tell me when he's misbehaving and know I'll appreciate it? Will you be willing to drop off your own son when my boy can't stand another after school or weekend day without a friend over? Will I, over the course of a week, potentially see you at Bible study, a school activity, and girl's night out in addition to when our sons are getting together? And, seriously, will you plan a birthday cruise and actually invite me along, all while keeping the expenses under $500?
And you, the first few ladies I meet in town that I really click with, will our husbands get along, too? Will our sons finish growing up together the way my other dear friends' sons spent the first half of their lives together? Will we come up with other cool excuses to get together, like game night?
Because, dear female friends, at various points in my life, I didn't even realize that I needed you, but I do. Desperately. And I have only lived in a few places where you've been right there. When I was young, I limited you to only a few who really knew me (and those I still hold dear). When I was a new mom, I clung to a lifeline of new moms as well. But Lexington is the only place I've built and been built into an entire network of friends.
I'll miss it deeply. And while I want to recreate it, I know it will be different again, too. But deep inside, I know that somehow it will work out, because this move was meant to be. It's just hard in the getting there.
Saturday, April 27, 2013
Two very different parts of me
I have two kids, one girl and one boy. It probably goes without saying that I think they are both quite amazing, each in their own way. And they are both growing up much more quickly than I'd prefer.
It's funny, in a way, that our kids never really understand how much we love them until they have kids of their own. I mean, you think you get it. You think you're ready to become a parent. And then this tiny being is completely dependent upon you. And then, ever so slowly and yet seemingly all at once, that tiny baby is nearly grown, looking dead even into your own eyes. Or worse, rolling her eyes and thinking, Mom just doesn't get it at all. And you aren't so old that you don't remember feeling the same way (even if you were too chicken to roll your eyes at your own mother).
My mom told me that I would someday love my children more than my husband. I don't think that's true (sorry, Mom). I think there are just a lot of different kinds of love, and the love for my children is different than the love for my husband. My love for each of them is even different, but that doesn't make one any more or less than the other. My love for my children is much more protective, one that I would gladly give my own life for. I'd expect Darrell to do the same for each of them, but I'm not as sure that I would step in front of a bullet for him the way I know without a doubt I would do for either of my children. At the same time, my love for Darrell is more dependent, more a strength I lean upon. I am his partner in this life. As long as God lets us live on this earth, I'll be there for him and he'll be there for me long after our kids have gone their own ways.
My kids are very different. I'm happy that I have one girl and one boy, as it makes it much easier to not expect them to be the same. And I was one of those people that thought society made boys and girls different, but I'm hear to tell you, they are different from the very beginning. They are five and a half years apart in age. They aren't all that close to each other, although I pray that they grow closer in adulthood. They have separate interests, and separate friends. My daughter, as the older one, sees herself as an authority over little brother, and often echoes my orders and corrections to him.
They were born in two separate millennia. Our daughter began childhood with VHS tapes, Blue's Clues, and little interest in the one desktop computer in our home at the time. Our son began childhood with DVDs and moved quickly to streaming his favorite shows from Netflix or the Internet, Little Einsteins, and a love affair with all things computer and digital almost from the time he could walk and talk. The world had already changed a lot in those five and a half years.
Our daughter learned to count to 18 by 18 months old, tie her shoes and braid her own hair at three, and read and start Kindergarten at four, and has the most beautiful handwriting I've seen. Our son learned to walk by 10 months, still walks around with at least one shoe untied most of the time, only agreed to learn to read so that he could get his driver's license someday, and sometimes misses words on spelling tests because the teacher can't decipher the letters. And yet, I strongly suspect that he is just as intelligent as big sis. When he describes the way something works, something he wants to invent, or how he understands multiplying by fractions or doing other math problems in his head, I can't even follow it.
Our daughter spent several years that she remembers as the only child. She has a strong sense of self and what she wants from this life. She is independent, not afraid to ask questions and challenge other's thoughts and actions, and she is beautiful. Our son is cuddly, very sensitive, and extremely empathetic, although part of me wonders if that is partly to get comfort and good things in his life. He's been a charmer all along. He's the one who has so easily made me sympathetic of the younger sibling (and made me feel sorry for how I sometimes treated my own little sister). He's my cute little blondie, my proof that I have some natural blond hair in there somewhere.
I'm not much of a baby person, never really comfortable with any babies other than my own two when they were small. But I do get a little nostalgic when I see newborns. I didn't have tiny babies, surely my own genetic fault since Darrell was born under six pounds while I was a nine-pound giant. Hunter gained two pounds over birth weight by her two week check up and was sixteen pounds by three months old. Will weighed a little more at birth, but mostly because he was so tall, even then. When little, they were each always mistaken for older kids. A cousin accused Will of lying about his age, and wouldn't even believe me.
I always feel blessed to be their mom. It's the one thing I've always been sure of. The one thing that devastated me most when Darrell was sick (after worrying about him staying alive) was the possibility that we might not be able to have kids. When asked in various job interviews what my greatest accomplishment is, I unhesitatingly say my kids. I know that's not what they are looking for, but it will always be my honest answer. Have they each done things that disappoint me, and will they in the future? Yes, and I'm sure. But they have done so many other things that have made tears come to my eyes in pride. Each have gotten compliments from teachers, friends, etc. Each has worked hard for something she or he wanted, and amazed me in the doing of it.
And if all I teach each of them is to love God, be honest, and work hard, I will consider them my greatest blessing, and motherhood the hardest job I ever truly loved.
It's funny, in a way, that our kids never really understand how much we love them until they have kids of their own. I mean, you think you get it. You think you're ready to become a parent. And then this tiny being is completely dependent upon you. And then, ever so slowly and yet seemingly all at once, that tiny baby is nearly grown, looking dead even into your own eyes. Or worse, rolling her eyes and thinking, Mom just doesn't get it at all. And you aren't so old that you don't remember feeling the same way (even if you were too chicken to roll your eyes at your own mother).
My mom told me that I would someday love my children more than my husband. I don't think that's true (sorry, Mom). I think there are just a lot of different kinds of love, and the love for my children is different than the love for my husband. My love for each of them is even different, but that doesn't make one any more or less than the other. My love for my children is much more protective, one that I would gladly give my own life for. I'd expect Darrell to do the same for each of them, but I'm not as sure that I would step in front of a bullet for him the way I know without a doubt I would do for either of my children. At the same time, my love for Darrell is more dependent, more a strength I lean upon. I am his partner in this life. As long as God lets us live on this earth, I'll be there for him and he'll be there for me long after our kids have gone their own ways.
My kids are very different. I'm happy that I have one girl and one boy, as it makes it much easier to not expect them to be the same. And I was one of those people that thought society made boys and girls different, but I'm hear to tell you, they are different from the very beginning. They are five and a half years apart in age. They aren't all that close to each other, although I pray that they grow closer in adulthood. They have separate interests, and separate friends. My daughter, as the older one, sees herself as an authority over little brother, and often echoes my orders and corrections to him.
They were born in two separate millennia. Our daughter began childhood with VHS tapes, Blue's Clues, and little interest in the one desktop computer in our home at the time. Our son began childhood with DVDs and moved quickly to streaming his favorite shows from Netflix or the Internet, Little Einsteins, and a love affair with all things computer and digital almost from the time he could walk and talk. The world had already changed a lot in those five and a half years.
Our daughter learned to count to 18 by 18 months old, tie her shoes and braid her own hair at three, and read and start Kindergarten at four, and has the most beautiful handwriting I've seen. Our son learned to walk by 10 months, still walks around with at least one shoe untied most of the time, only agreed to learn to read so that he could get his driver's license someday, and sometimes misses words on spelling tests because the teacher can't decipher the letters. And yet, I strongly suspect that he is just as intelligent as big sis. When he describes the way something works, something he wants to invent, or how he understands multiplying by fractions or doing other math problems in his head, I can't even follow it.
Our daughter spent several years that she remembers as the only child. She has a strong sense of self and what she wants from this life. She is independent, not afraid to ask questions and challenge other's thoughts and actions, and she is beautiful. Our son is cuddly, very sensitive, and extremely empathetic, although part of me wonders if that is partly to get comfort and good things in his life. He's been a charmer all along. He's the one who has so easily made me sympathetic of the younger sibling (and made me feel sorry for how I sometimes treated my own little sister). He's my cute little blondie, my proof that I have some natural blond hair in there somewhere.
I'm not much of a baby person, never really comfortable with any babies other than my own two when they were small. But I do get a little nostalgic when I see newborns. I didn't have tiny babies, surely my own genetic fault since Darrell was born under six pounds while I was a nine-pound giant. Hunter gained two pounds over birth weight by her two week check up and was sixteen pounds by three months old. Will weighed a little more at birth, but mostly because he was so tall, even then. When little, they were each always mistaken for older kids. A cousin accused Will of lying about his age, and wouldn't even believe me.
I always feel blessed to be their mom. It's the one thing I've always been sure of. The one thing that devastated me most when Darrell was sick (after worrying about him staying alive) was the possibility that we might not be able to have kids. When asked in various job interviews what my greatest accomplishment is, I unhesitatingly say my kids. I know that's not what they are looking for, but it will always be my honest answer. Have they each done things that disappoint me, and will they in the future? Yes, and I'm sure. But they have done so many other things that have made tears come to my eyes in pride. Each have gotten compliments from teachers, friends, etc. Each has worked hard for something she or he wanted, and amazed me in the doing of it.
And if all I teach each of them is to love God, be honest, and work hard, I will consider them my greatest blessing, and motherhood the hardest job I ever truly loved.
Friday, April 26, 2013
It's been a looooonnnnnnggggggggg week!
So far, the only bad decision it seems like we've made with this whole move is our choice of where the kids and I should stay until they finish school. We chose the $1,200 a month extended stay efficiency apartment rather than the over $2,000 a month one-bedroom apartment. I have a little trouble not resenting Darrell's stay in a 3 bedroom condo. The only benefit is that I get to sleep on a real bed, and work in a real chair at a real desk (since I'm working from "home" for now), while he sleeps on an air mattress and sits at a folding chair at a card table.
First, the room does seem clean, and the few times I've called them to clean something better, the staff here has been very responsive. But, I guess they didn't get the memo that smoke rises. The smoking floor is on the first floor. We're on the third floor, but walking up and down the stairwells reeks of smoke, and even our clothes are starting to very slightly smell of stale smoke. For a person who has never let a cigarette touch her lips and has mild asthma, this is a pretty big annoyance, and one I wish I'd noticed when I came to look at a room before we moved in.
Second, the typical clientele is not the same as the neighbors I am used to. A guy flirted with either myself or my daughter on our way in one night. As he appeared to be in his mid to late 20's, I was horrified either way. Either he was being totally inappropriate flirting with a teenage girl, or he was trying to get too friendly with an older woman, and neither seem good to me. Also, my car was hit sometime last night, and of course no one left a note, or reported it to the front desk. The damage isn't horrible, but it's Darrell's car (our newest), and he's pretty particular about it. He didn't seem as upset as I was when I called him about it this morning though.
And, there's "free" wireless internet, but the free version is extremely slow, and the "high speed" (read, livable for working and web surfing, but still not fast enough to stream Netflix for the kids) requires me to pay per device rather than sharing the higher speed over several computers, phones, and/or tablets. This means I've already paid twice ($60 total) just for this month.
We're also right along a major road, so goodbye heading right out the door to go for a nice run or walk. I miss our kitties and Lexi, too. I try to get over to run with Lexi a few times a week, but I miss having her right here with us and the convenience of heading out with her at the spur of the moment when I can just fit in a quick run.
And yet, I know these are such minor problems in the grand scheme of things. Most of what I will think of when I think back on this time is how smoothly every step of this move has gone. From selling our house in just a few weeks, to missing out on one house in Indy so that we could buy a better one instead, to finding and starting a new job in my field before the kids and I even get up there, to getting to spend a little extra time with friends here because we aren't moving up until the end of the school year... It's just all fallen into place so well.
Four more weeks. I can live in this place for that long. All over the world, most people make do with much less. And even if we have to cover $1,000 worth of damage to Darrell's car (our deductible), my next paycheck with be more than that, and isn't currently needed for anything else. It's a great feeling to have the relief of knowing that God has been watching out for us, of knowing that bad things will still happen, yes, but that we can get through them.
I just want my hubby back more than just weekends. Home is wherever we are all four together, and I can't wait until that happens in four weeks! In the meantime, today is Friday. Darrell will be on his way to us soon, and we have the weekend to spend together.
First, the room does seem clean, and the few times I've called them to clean something better, the staff here has been very responsive. But, I guess they didn't get the memo that smoke rises. The smoking floor is on the first floor. We're on the third floor, but walking up and down the stairwells reeks of smoke, and even our clothes are starting to very slightly smell of stale smoke. For a person who has never let a cigarette touch her lips and has mild asthma, this is a pretty big annoyance, and one I wish I'd noticed when I came to look at a room before we moved in.
Second, the typical clientele is not the same as the neighbors I am used to. A guy flirted with either myself or my daughter on our way in one night. As he appeared to be in his mid to late 20's, I was horrified either way. Either he was being totally inappropriate flirting with a teenage girl, or he was trying to get too friendly with an older woman, and neither seem good to me. Also, my car was hit sometime last night, and of course no one left a note, or reported it to the front desk. The damage isn't horrible, but it's Darrell's car (our newest), and he's pretty particular about it. He didn't seem as upset as I was when I called him about it this morning though.
And, there's "free" wireless internet, but the free version is extremely slow, and the "high speed" (read, livable for working and web surfing, but still not fast enough to stream Netflix for the kids) requires me to pay per device rather than sharing the higher speed over several computers, phones, and/or tablets. This means I've already paid twice ($60 total) just for this month.
We're also right along a major road, so goodbye heading right out the door to go for a nice run or walk. I miss our kitties and Lexi, too. I try to get over to run with Lexi a few times a week, but I miss having her right here with us and the convenience of heading out with her at the spur of the moment when I can just fit in a quick run.
And yet, I know these are such minor problems in the grand scheme of things. Most of what I will think of when I think back on this time is how smoothly every step of this move has gone. From selling our house in just a few weeks, to missing out on one house in Indy so that we could buy a better one instead, to finding and starting a new job in my field before the kids and I even get up there, to getting to spend a little extra time with friends here because we aren't moving up until the end of the school year... It's just all fallen into place so well.
Four more weeks. I can live in this place for that long. All over the world, most people make do with much less. And even if we have to cover $1,000 worth of damage to Darrell's car (our deductible), my next paycheck with be more than that, and isn't currently needed for anything else. It's a great feeling to have the relief of knowing that God has been watching out for us, of knowing that bad things will still happen, yes, but that we can get through them.
I just want my hubby back more than just weekends. Home is wherever we are all four together, and I can't wait until that happens in four weeks! In the meantime, today is Friday. Darrell will be on his way to us soon, and we have the weekend to spend together.
Friday, April 5, 2013
In WAY Over My Head
What should you do if your son has in-patient surgery on April 1st and you accept a new job to start on April 15th, even agreeing to drive several hours away for a meeting a few days before you officially start said job? Have movers arrive to pack up your house on April 6th, of course!
I had this funny feeling that it might not be a good idea to agree to close on our house in Lexington on April 10th way back when we received such a great offer on it. But, my realtor convinced me that we shouldn't push them to extend past that. Of course I can get my boy healed up in time to move by then. No problem. Of course I can get him through surgery all alone with Darrell in a different state. No problem. Of course I can accept a job offer in the midst of all that. And really, what's a little 40 hours a week of work from home before the kids and I even move going to hurt?
Would someone please tell me, WHAT THE HECK WAS I THINKING WHEN I AGREED TO ANY OF THIS???
Oh, yeah, and I came down with a cold on top of it all. Granted, it hasn't turned into anything more than a cough half of the night, irritate my asthma, sniffly, sneezy mess, but still...
I've managed to get through the first half of all of this only because my amazing parents came to stay the week of my son's surgery, doing everything from my laundry to returning my cable TV boxes, to treating us to dinner, to relieving me at the hospital. And it's also really helped to have several awesome family members and friends checking on us often; visiting, sending an awesome balloon and treat basket, making cards for, and praying for my son; and just letting me know they are there if needed.
My little guy had a bit of a set-back today, but this evening he's right back to feeling well. And my other knight in shining armor got home earlier than normal. Yes, Darrell may have helped get me into this mess, but as soon as he is near me, I feel a lot safer and like I'm not on my own with all of this craziness. He's the one who has assured me that even if it's not all done, it will work out. He's the one who has told me that if my new job doesn't work out, just quit. And he's the one just as responsible for the lives of our two children as I am. Thank goodness I have someone to share this responsibility with, and thank goodness we won't be living separately much longer.
And, thank God for it all. I'm reminded as I look around at all the stuff we've accumulated over the years, I can easily get by on the small fraction we've packed up to last us the next six weeks. Most people in the world get by on less than that every day of their lives. We are blessed beyond measure, and thank God for it all!
I had this funny feeling that it might not be a good idea to agree to close on our house in Lexington on April 10th way back when we received such a great offer on it. But, my realtor convinced me that we shouldn't push them to extend past that. Of course I can get my boy healed up in time to move by then. No problem. Of course I can get him through surgery all alone with Darrell in a different state. No problem. Of course I can accept a job offer in the midst of all that. And really, what's a little 40 hours a week of work from home before the kids and I even move going to hurt?
Would someone please tell me, WHAT THE HECK WAS I THINKING WHEN I AGREED TO ANY OF THIS???
Oh, yeah, and I came down with a cold on top of it all. Granted, it hasn't turned into anything more than a cough half of the night, irritate my asthma, sniffly, sneezy mess, but still...
I've managed to get through the first half of all of this only because my amazing parents came to stay the week of my son's surgery, doing everything from my laundry to returning my cable TV boxes, to treating us to dinner, to relieving me at the hospital. And it's also really helped to have several awesome family members and friends checking on us often; visiting, sending an awesome balloon and treat basket, making cards for, and praying for my son; and just letting me know they are there if needed.
My little guy had a bit of a set-back today, but this evening he's right back to feeling well. And my other knight in shining armor got home earlier than normal. Yes, Darrell may have helped get me into this mess, but as soon as he is near me, I feel a lot safer and like I'm not on my own with all of this craziness. He's the one who has assured me that even if it's not all done, it will work out. He's the one who has told me that if my new job doesn't work out, just quit. And he's the one just as responsible for the lives of our two children as I am. Thank goodness I have someone to share this responsibility with, and thank goodness we won't be living separately much longer.
And, thank God for it all. I'm reminded as I look around at all the stuff we've accumulated over the years, I can easily get by on the small fraction we've packed up to last us the next six weeks. Most people in the world get by on less than that every day of their lives. We are blessed beyond measure, and thank God for it all!
Wednesday, March 27, 2013
Trust Issues
Have you ever been told something about yourself that you didn't really realize before? Something that at first glance, actually appears wrong, but that when you actually dig a little deeper, is more spot-on than you would care to admit?
Yeah, that's happened to me recently. I was told, quite frankly, at a job interview last fall that I have trust issues. At first blush, I would say, what are you even talking about? For one, it was "uncovered" during one of those personality/worker type profile surveys that nearly every potential employer has asked me to fill out in the past six months. My career has been all about surveys and customer opinions and wants. But, it has not been about these psychological surveys that purport to tell you so much about a potential employee with so little information and in so little time.
I mean, really, me? The girl who has been married to the same guy for 20 years and trusts him more than I trust myself? The girl who believes and trusts in God? The girl who trusts this country and world enough to bring up two kids in it? The optimistic girl who generally believes that things will go well in this life? The almost always hard-working, ever industrious chick? The girl with more amazing friends than she can count? How could you possible say that I have trust issues?
Obviously, I wanted to discredit the whole thing at first. But a funny thing started happening. After taking several versions of these surveys by completely different companies and administered months apart, the results on one particular thing continued to come back very similar. You guessed it - trust. I might try to phrase it a little better than "trust issues" the way that first potential employer did, but when I really think about it, I have always been slow to trust others.
One of my earliest memories is when I was four years old and a brand new neighbor was building a house beside ours and had just moved in. I had only one friend then, and this girl could easily become a new friend. I was quite literally scared to death to go introduce myself to her. My friend had already met her, and was trying to convince me to go say hi, but I just couldn't. I think I wanted to meet her, but I could not bring myself to walk next door. I can remember that fear to this day, although I can't explain any logical reason for feeling that way. She turned out to be a great friend all the way through school. But she introduced herself to me first, because I couldn't bring myself to take those steps next door.
I let others make the first move in a relationship, and I always have. I like having friends, but I don't like to open up quickly. It takes years to get to know me. I can write my feelings down much easier than I can say them. I used to be painfully shy in school. I've gotten over that social awkwardness, but I wonder if you ever really get over what is behind it, and for me, I guess what it really is is lack of trust, and fear of getting hurt (even if I can't tell you how I'd get hurt).
I don't much like to talk on the phone. Texting has been a saving grace! I don't mix well with people I don't know in large groups. I like predictable situations, where I have some control.
They say that your responses to these types of personality surveys don't change much over time past around age 11. But I still plan to work on it. At least I realize something about myself that I didn't quite get before. And I'm working on uncovering the reasons why and what else it means about myself. For instance, I think my desire to be in control of things has a lot to do with lack of trust, although I'd never put the two together before. Lots of food for thought....
I can be a loyal, caring wife, friend, and employee. But I need time to open up. Just what that stupid report said about me in the first place. Darn it for being so right.
Yeah, that's happened to me recently. I was told, quite frankly, at a job interview last fall that I have trust issues. At first blush, I would say, what are you even talking about? For one, it was "uncovered" during one of those personality/worker type profile surveys that nearly every potential employer has asked me to fill out in the past six months. My career has been all about surveys and customer opinions and wants. But, it has not been about these psychological surveys that purport to tell you so much about a potential employee with so little information and in so little time.
I mean, really, me? The girl who has been married to the same guy for 20 years and trusts him more than I trust myself? The girl who believes and trusts in God? The girl who trusts this country and world enough to bring up two kids in it? The optimistic girl who generally believes that things will go well in this life? The almost always hard-working, ever industrious chick? The girl with more amazing friends than she can count? How could you possible say that I have trust issues?
Obviously, I wanted to discredit the whole thing at first. But a funny thing started happening. After taking several versions of these surveys by completely different companies and administered months apart, the results on one particular thing continued to come back very similar. You guessed it - trust. I might try to phrase it a little better than "trust issues" the way that first potential employer did, but when I really think about it, I have always been slow to trust others.
One of my earliest memories is when I was four years old and a brand new neighbor was building a house beside ours and had just moved in. I had only one friend then, and this girl could easily become a new friend. I was quite literally scared to death to go introduce myself to her. My friend had already met her, and was trying to convince me to go say hi, but I just couldn't. I think I wanted to meet her, but I could not bring myself to walk next door. I can remember that fear to this day, although I can't explain any logical reason for feeling that way. She turned out to be a great friend all the way through school. But she introduced herself to me first, because I couldn't bring myself to take those steps next door.
I let others make the first move in a relationship, and I always have. I like having friends, but I don't like to open up quickly. It takes years to get to know me. I can write my feelings down much easier than I can say them. I used to be painfully shy in school. I've gotten over that social awkwardness, but I wonder if you ever really get over what is behind it, and for me, I guess what it really is is lack of trust, and fear of getting hurt (even if I can't tell you how I'd get hurt).
I don't much like to talk on the phone. Texting has been a saving grace! I don't mix well with people I don't know in large groups. I like predictable situations, where I have some control.
They say that your responses to these types of personality surveys don't change much over time past around age 11. But I still plan to work on it. At least I realize something about myself that I didn't quite get before. And I'm working on uncovering the reasons why and what else it means about myself. For instance, I think my desire to be in control of things has a lot to do with lack of trust, although I'd never put the two together before. Lots of food for thought....
I can be a loyal, caring wife, friend, and employee. But I need time to open up. Just what that stupid report said about me in the first place. Darn it for being so right.
Monday, March 18, 2013
This crazy, busy thing called life...
So, you might have heard that we're moving. For the sake of brevity, let me only include a short list of the cities/states that Darrell and I have lived in together over the past 21 years (I'll save you from the places we've only lived individually):
There is a neat pattern we're breaking. With every house we purchased before, we spent more each time. This time, we are determined to spend less on a house, get me employed again, and get serious again about saving for our kids for college.
I don't think a lot of people realize (or remember) how insane things get as you go through a move. I know I forgot a lot since we stayed put almost seven years this time. How about just a quick picture of my week from Wednesday through Sunday?
But I'm also enjoying it, in a crazy busy kind of way.
And, as much as I wasn't going to do this until we had a signed contract, here's a sneak peak of what will hopefully end up being our new house (built in 2008 but never lived in because it was a model home for the neighborhood), complete with our kids getting ready to go inside for a look:
- Morgantown, WV
- Hammonton, NJ
- Plymouth (city), MI
- Raleigh, NC
- Clayton, NC
- Greenville, NC
- Plymouth (township), MI
- Fairmont, WV
- Lexington, KY
There is a neat pattern we're breaking. With every house we purchased before, we spent more each time. This time, we are determined to spend less on a house, get me employed again, and get serious again about saving for our kids for college.
I don't think a lot of people realize (or remember) how insane things get as you go through a move. I know I forgot a lot since we stayed put almost seven years this time. How about just a quick picture of my week from Wednesday through Sunday?
- Pack for the kids and I to head to Indiana
- Make sure pets are taken care of, including taking our dog with us and a cat that needs eye drops every day for the rest of his life
- Drive four hours to a place I've never been in my life
- Arrive around 9:30pm, unload (with Darrell's help, thank goodness), collapse into bed (which is an air mattress)
- Get up at 6am Thursday to get ready for a 3 or 4-hour job interview an hour's commute away
- Job interview #1, while trusting that kids are ok on their own and luckily Darrell works very close by if they need anything
- Stop at storage facility to sign contract and pay initial month so we have a spot for the RV
- Fast food lunch on the way home, eaten in my car while driving, so the kids wouldn't be alone even longer
- Take the kids shopping, but just to the local WalMart because there isn't much other shopping in Greencastle but felt a bit guilty leaving them couped up much of the day
- Get list of requested inspection repairs from buyers of current house in Lexington, but have trouble interpreting half of the eight items, and know that a few are things you just won't/can't fix (like "fixing" the vent fan in your microwave when the microwave just doesn't have a vent fan in it)
- Grab a quick dinner with the kids once Darrell got home from work
- Look at houses. Only five met our criteria (hey, when you've purchased six houses already, you know what you want) in the two towns we were looking in
- Dream about houses and job interviews all night
- Get up at 6am Friday to get ready for another 3 or 4-hour job interview an hour's commute away
- Job interview #2, different company, different type of job, but essentially the same deal
- Yet another fast food lunch on the way home, but luckily a little less greasy than Thursday's
- Get back to Darrell's condo, touch base with realtor for the house we're selling in Lexington to ask about inspection report so we can better understand and respond to repair list, touch base with realtor only to learn that the house we were trying to make an offer on was already purchased last night
- Desperately search for any new houses to go look at, all while debating if we want to make an offer on the other one we liked
- Go for a run with Lexi to de-stress
- Pack up kids in car again once Darrell got home to go talk to a builder and decide if we should have a house built (and then need to find another temporary place to live for a month or two)
- Drive by the other house we liked, wondering if it makes sense both for safety and house resale to purchase a house near a prison
- Sleep on it
- Sleep in a little Saturday morning (thank goodness!) and decide with Darrell that we need to do a little more research, but maybe we should make an offer on the other house
- Go to an open house at the plant Darrell now supports, see forklifts and all kinds of parts, listen to Darrell about how stuff is made (but no pictures allowed), and get a free lunch
- Back to condo to let Lexi out
- Head back out in both cars to drop off Darrell's car at the storage lot
- Research on our way, and drive by house AGAIN and decide yes, we want to make an offer
- Take kids shopping, much to our daughter's delight
- She shops, son tries to amuse himself, Darrell and I negotiate back and forth with our realtor who is away at a conference as the go-between
- Go to someone's house I grew up with, but haven't seen in years, for dinner
- Have a great time, son gets to play with another boy his age and make his first friend in our new city
- Stress because we don't hear anything more about the house tonight
- Crash back at condo
- Wake up, shower, pack up for us all to head back to Lexington first thing Sunday (miss church)
- Run into snow along the way, worry that Darrell will have a hard time driving the RV back to Indy
- Drop kids, dog and stuff from trip back at house in Lexington, make daughter promise to have phone nearby and help little brother get lunch
- Take Darrell to RV, finally talk to our realtor again, but he hasn't heard back about the house
- Leave Darrell at the RV, heading back to Indy without even eating lunch
- Catch up with kids and unpack at home, decide it's a pizza-ordering kind of night
- Hear back from realtor that they finally accepted our offer on the house, call Darrell on his way to ask if he can sign papers once he gets back
- Darrell goes to sign papers at 7:30pm, still having not eaten a meal since breakfast
- Builder rep has computer problems, can't print the contract for Darrell to sign
- Go to sleep knowing you still don't have a signed contract on the house you really want, but thankful that Darrell is back safe, and that things still seem to be falling into place overall
But I'm also enjoying it, in a crazy busy kind of way.
And, as much as I wasn't going to do this until we had a signed contract, here's a sneak peak of what will hopefully end up being our new house (built in 2008 but never lived in because it was a model home for the neighborhood), complete with our kids getting ready to go inside for a look:
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