What I really worry about

Things I am noticing about being back at work:

I am much spacier than I used to be. I actually MISSED A MEETING yesterday. Because I forgot! It completely slipped my mind!

I may have missed a meeting or two in my previous working life, but I can tell you it wasn’t because I FORGOT. It was more like, well, a well-reasoned rational opportunity-cost analysis. I am going to miss that one, because I am doing this instead...Not, WHOOPS!! I forgot to go!!

Also, I am aware of my Mommy days. My full time Mommy days. My full time Mommy of small babies mommy days. Apparently in a flash I have passed out of that stage.

I still know of people – of course – going off to Mom’s Club meetings and hanging with the girls and the kids at the various lunch time hangouts. (This all goes on, of course, in other towns, because in ours there is no official Mom’s Club and there aren’t very many places to hang out…but I digress….) I think I have a problem realizing, with whatever phase of life I am in, that it is a passing phase.

I was always so vaguely aware, or sometimes overtly aware, of the undertone of frustration and self-stifling and boredom…or was that just me?...I always marveled at the moms that are so happy, so perfectly content, to be doing whatever we were all doing, not itching to be moving on to something else. How could they do it? How could they be so peacefully content just.doing.that – sitting at playgroup, watching the kids. Today. And tomorrow. And for the next seven years. I always figured they were happy with every decision they had ever made in their life. Surely that had to be it.

(Or – the other possibility – they had tremendous amounts of help at home, and didn’t have to do much of the boring stuff like laundry and picking up, over and over, and also had babysitters so they did something else on a regular basis…that would all help a lot too….I didn’t have that, though….)

And I never marveled with disdain. I just marveled. And wondered why I was never just happy just doing that.

I wonder if I will miss passing out of that era. If I will be sorry to not be with Baby more now, to know how many days she will spend with the babysitter, and not with me. Little smiles and jokes and laughs and firsts that will be lost forever, between us, because she won’t remember them, and I’ll never know them.

I am hoping – famous last words – that once I learn the ropes more, and freaking get a computer I can use at home on this stuff (trust me, there is a whole Ihatethemicosoftmonopolythatisforcingmetopurchaseasecondcomputer rant, but I’ll spare you that for now), and we move out of the busy summer season, that I can balance things more and not work so much, but hopefully still not go broke. That is what I’m thinking….

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Diffused energy

The Baby still refuses to sleep. It's hardly like she's still a baby - she's a full-on toddler. Walking, running, climbing, breaking her arm. That's right. Breaking her arm. I will have to take a picture of her sad little wing. When the dr. put the x-ray up on the light panel thing, I almost cried. It was this teeny, tiny little line - the dr. said at this age, they are so maleable it's more like a wrinkle than a break - I still had to fight back the tears.

It could be the arm keeping her up, but I doubt it. The behavior's the same! Mama! Mama! Mama! Cuddle. Back to sleep.

Me? Up, reading blogs. Better than lying there wondering what dooce and Mary and the others have to say. Maybe it's age. Wake me at 3:30, keep me up until 4:15...gawd, where did the sleep go? Hard to get back to.

I think I'm understanding mommy blogs better now. Now that I don't have as much time for my other-wise (erstwhile?) passion....all that pent-up energy and brainpower and need for self-expression...the blog is the perfect forum. Because it fits our schedule! Late at night when the kiddos other obligations are in bed.

Now that's going elsewhere, to random strangers (all of whom become my friends, for the hour) (so they so don't seem like random strangers) and fill the day, and then I'm exhausted and want to sleep so the time I have in between I can see and interact with my kiddos.

Blog going anywhere? No, no. Just hate how it's slowed down around here.

Maybe when all else is under control, it will perk back up.

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So THIS is what they were talking about...

Ah. It's begun. I'm the time-strapped working mom! How did this happen? I am living all the things my working-mom friends told me about; not feeling like they are getting it all done at work, and not feeling like they're kids are getting their all at home, either. Geez, it only took, what, six weeks? Only four of them "official"? Land speed record!

Things at work are good. They are busy but fun. If things were different and I were in my old life, I would spend, way, way more time there. Turns out I'm a workaholic! But I knew that already!

I do feel like there is a lot to do to get things underway. Instead I'm sort of dealing with whatever's right in front of me, and trying to play catch-up on the rest. I'll get there yet. I think. (I did finally get a new computer ordered, while on vacation, and all my cousins made fun of me for working on vaca...)

At home...too much time away, especially from that little baby. I *think* Little Big Girl is okay with more time with friends off having fun....but she probably would like more mom time too.

In the meantime, Spousal is still doing a great job of picking up all the dropped balls around here, like dinner. And last minute you-drop-off-oh-and-pick-up too requests...

We did manage to go off on vacation for a long weekend, back to Colorado to meet up with family. It was really fun. Beautiful, if the cutesy stores have already seen our faces one too many times over the years...

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And finally, on a completely unrelated note - I have been fooled! Don't ask me how but I completely idiotically clicked on one of those cheesy interenet ads, promising me free things for my wonderful opinion - I guess because it looked like something that actually worked out for me once, where I gave my opinion and got like four free magazines, really! - and lo and behold if I don't have over 300 spam emails in my inbox everyday! It's enough to make a girl scream! At myself for being a big ol goofy dope!

So I delete all, and hope that somehow, someway, my alma mater, random friends that look like spam and other such emails somehow find their own way out of my Bulk inbox on their own. Cuz they're going with the rest of the 298 spams per day. Sheesh. Free stuff for my opinions....

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Crib-o Update

I am really enjoying the new work thing. It is amazing to find my old self again. Hey, who are you? Oh yeah, I remember you!! You need a few new pairs of decent pants to keep this new-old you going!

I guess I'm sort of living the whole Crib Ceiling thing right now. I have some guilt about leaving my twenty month old with someone else. On the other hand, she loves going there and we're both happy to see each other when we're back together.

Little Big Girl really really wants to go to the babysitter's rather than her preschool. At first I thought, how sweet! She wants to be with Baby! And then I thought, sibling rivalry? She thinks things are better there? Turns out it's because she gets to play video games and watch Dora when she's there. Hm. Not that sweet, and not enough reason.

Sorry for the lack of humor, lack of insight, lack of contemplation. I'm sort of trying to see just beyond my nose right now, what with learning a lot at work, and being busy there, and still trying to juggle and hand off and coordinate things at home. Little things. Like childcare and child pickup and who is going to cook around here, anyway?

I have to say Spousal is doing a great job picking up the slack; getting the girls, making them dinner, putting up with me working weekends already, including a couple hours on Father's Day today. (I know, hold the lectures, don't need them.)

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Daddy Nap Adventures

I worked last weekend, because I was “agent on duty”. Which was a good thing, because I met some people who need some help, and I’m happy to help them.

Spousal, in the meantime, had full-on Daddy weekend. For instance, on Saturday, he finished feeding them breakfast, got them dressed, and took them to the park. Then he brought them home, fed them lunch, and tried to put them down for a nap.

For an hour and a half.

(He told me this like I would find it surprising in some way.)

So this is his story, roughly. Thought it worth repeating.

First, both girls wanted to nap in the same room. LBG on her bed, Baby on the toddler bed that actually is hers, but for reasons too complicated to explain (laziness), is actually in LBG’s room.

So they both lie down on their respective beds, and Spousal gets comfy on the big fuzzy lazy-boy that is in there, thinking this all-day thing is a breeze, time for his nap!

And then Baby wanted to get in bed with LBG.

Struggle, struggle, clamber, giggles, giggles, flop, flop.

Moment of quiet.

She’s kicking me!

OWWWWW!

Okay Baby, back to your bed.

Moment of quiet.

I want to sleep on the floor!

What do you mean, you want to sleep on the floor?

On the floor! On the floor! I want to sleep on the floor on my pink pillow mat from Aunt T! On the FLO-OOOORRRR!

Okay, okay. (Gets up, roots around in closet, finds pink pillow mat thing, puts it on floor, LBG gets on that.)

Mneee doooo! Mneeee doooo!

Okay, okay. Make room for Baby on the mat.

Nnnnnnnnoooooooo! There’s no roooooooooom! It’s a one person mat!!!

Okay, okay.

Mnee doooo! Mneeee dooooo!

Okay, okay, just a minute Baby. (roots around in closet again) Here, you lay down on this.

Puts pink kids sleeping bag down on floor. Baby lies down on that.

Spousal sits down, head back, relaxes.

Flop, flip, flop.

Heyyyy!! She’s touching me!

Okay, stop that. Baby, you move over here. (adjusts sleeping bag)

(repeat this part of the story three or four times, with varying persons playing each part, until finally - )

Okay, you two. Stop it. Both in your own beds.

Argument ensues.

Eventually, struggle, struggle, clamber, clamber, flip, flop, both in their own beds.

Okay, now. Not another word from either one of you. No moving, no talking, no nothing. I mean it. Not another word. Nothing. Now go to sleep.

Quiet.

Quiet.

Daddy?

No talking, LBG. I mean it.

But! I have to go to the bathroom!

(sigh.) Oh, alright.

Mneee do! Mneee do!

(sigh) Okay.

It goes on from there, but you get the idea. Just keep in mind that at the end of this story, LBG is back in the room, but Baby isn’t, and then there’s the sound of water splashing, and then Daddy asked LBG what Baby was doing, and let’s just say there is a tooth brush that needs to go away for a long, long time.

And that's the story of daddy nap. (Actually, Baby really did eventually go to sleep. So we'll deem this one a success!)

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Thursday Thirteen

Thursday Thirteen Things to complain about Krisco 1. The Valley is really far from here 2. As a new agent, you get a lot of Valley requests 3. You kind of feel obliged to take them because - you're a new agent 4. The other agents want to dump refer their Valley business on to you 5. Which you're so happy about - hey! They want to send me some work! 6. And then - sh*t! It's in the Valley! 7. I don't know the Valley! 8. I've only even driven THROUGH the Valley! 9. I didn't even know there were houses down in there! 10. You mean you can get OFF the highway in the Valley? 11. Who knew. 12. Now I do. 13. Because I've been lost down there. 14. Three times. 15. This week. 16. Once on my way to a place that looked like this only not as nice. I've hit 13. I should stop. But oh, I could go on. Links to other Thursday Thirteens! (Add yours below!)

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What's For Dinner Wednesday

Who the heck knows! I'm working! Hope Spousal feeds them Something!!

(and me? unknown. good thing the workplace does not have a vending machine...)

Rules:
Tell us what you're having!
Recipes on your site!
Thanks!

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Week Two

This is what I’ve learned so far, two weeks into being a working mom from being a stay at home mom.

I see my children less often.

I am MUCH less cranky with them when I do.

I don’t mean I was always cranky when I was with them before. But by the end of the day….really, you had to just put us in separate corners. It was bad. I was ir-rat-ta-ble.

I’m not worried about feeding them as much anymore, because I’m not even there to do it. It’s Spousal’s deal some nights. I don’t even think about it. Wow. (Dinner tonight….for me….okay, popcorn and M&Ms. That’s not that good, is it?)

I like the work. Okay, I love the work. It’s great to think about something new, something that interests me, something that takes some thinking. And something that helps other people. So far, digging it.

Also, tired. But this time in a good way. Not in an irritable, I get no sleep from children way, and I’m really super cranky way. More like I’ve earned it.

(Not that SAHMs don’t. They do even more. It just doesn’t feel that way sometimes.)

(And on a side - but - really - it - should - be - it's - own note - Spousal is HUGELY picking up the slack. Like you can't even believe. It's been great. He's a heck of a Dad and a darn good Spousal.)

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From SAHM to WM - is that even the right term?

This is a weird transition. Weird.

And who suffers?

The blog.

Oh yeah. And sleep. Again.

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Boring bloggers unite

Just an update on the boring stuff -

I took my first client around, all by myself! Hey, how fun! Actually, it was a couple and they were super nice and firsttime home buyers so you know what? I did know a lot more about all this than they did. Go figure.

I also have ALL KINDS OF PICTURES JUST BACKLOGGED to share with you all. Because that's just the kind of blogger I am. That's right. The kind that THINKS - hey! how great for my blog! - and then never actually downloads them to my computer. But if you could SEE my camera - oh, how great they are.

Also included in that backlog are pictures of Little Big Girl's ballet recital, which was promised a month ago. Sadly, other events got in the way of posting about that. (Janice, of course.) But I'll get back to it.

Finally, I saw on McSweeney's the other day some list about things somebody never wanted to be called, and BLOGGER was on the list. (And I don't think he meant he wanted to be like dooce and be called a blobber.)

And my main point was - and what exactly is McSweeney's? A BLOG! That's what! I think they even use blogger! And what is the point of all those lists? (which I like, by the way?) For someone to share their clever thoughts with the world. EXACTLY THE POINT OF A BLOG. So phe. He's a blogger and doesn't even know it, and I think that's pretty funny.

Signed, a blogger

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Reporting in: first three days on the job

Okay, so I started the work thing.

I'm trying to think of something deep to say about it, and I just can't.

It's more hectic, so far. It involves far less home-made food, so far. And I'm going less insane! I mean, .... did I just say that?

Okay, scratch that last part. But I do know that, so far, it feels good to think I might actually bring in some income at some point, and, at least so far, both my little girls actually seem happier to be going off somewhere and doing something rather than hanging out with me at the grocery and doing laundry. So go figure, that's boring to them too.

That's about it for now. Tomorrow's my first day "on floor duty", and today's the first time I called someone I didn't know to talk about houses. The latter was fun; the former makes me nervous but eh, I'm thinking it will be okay. Okay, I'm still a little nervous.

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And on a totally unrelated note, my good friend told me today that her husband got a job offer in England. I knew it was coming, I knew they wouldn't stay. He hasn't accepted it yet, but he will. They won't even move until December. I still spontaneously just started crying tonight just thinking about her moving away.

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Just one of the many reasons why I love the M&Ms

Note to self: working mothers can't stay up til all hours. (SAHM's can't either, but can somehow get away with it.)

Stop with the late night dark chocolate.

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All About Krisco

Oh good lord. Do you really need any more information
about me? I don't think so.

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My sweet little not-piggies

Baby had teeny, tiny little pigtails put into her hair today, by her new sitter.

They were C.U.T.E. (Dang, have no picture. Trust me. C.U.T.E.)

Spousal picked up both Little Big Girl (4) and Baby (19 months) and we were going to meet somewhere for dinner.

For reasons I still am not sure of, instead they all showed up at my new workplace.

Which is good, actually. LBG has been curious to see what this whole "work" thing is all about, so I've been promising to take her by the office.

After they all met one of the other realtors, Baby toddled off. And my coworker, looking after her and those adorable little pigtails, said: Cute little piggies!

And LBG said, without missing a beat: Don't call us piggies!

I thought that was funny.

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All the lonely people, she was not

We went to the funeral on Wednesday.

After picking her dress out (the dark blue party dress with the beads on top, the one Little Big Girl wore as a dressup dress to play in with J. until she actually grew into it), telling me assuredly she'd like to go, and putting on pretty shoes, Little Big Girl decided as we got in the car that she couldn't go. She HAD to go to the babysitter's with her sister, she HAD to see the other children there. There was tears, and urgency, and fear.

She was so adament. Of course it wasn't about those other things, and of course I couldn't make her go, although I worried that later in life - next year, or sometime in high school, or maybe even tomorrow - she will ask why I didn't take her to J.'s funeral.

But, also, she doesn't really understand, exactly. When I asked, Are you sure you don't want to go? It's for J. ...? She asked, ...Will she be there?

In a way, of course. But not enough.

The funeral was touching, and sad. The church was filled with family and friends. Beautiful poems were read and Bach was played. At J.'s own request, from years before, they played Eleanor Rigby, her favorite song.

I wanted to hear more stories about her life, about her joy in living. Seeing her sisters was so wonderful - little parts of J. - there's her smile - there's her walk - there's the way she looked you square in the face and focused completely on what you were saying...

And, finally (for now) . . . although I wanted to share J. with you all - I wish you could have met her, she was so down to earth, positive, thoughtful and frankly wonderful - I also didn't want to invade her privacy.

Nonetheless, it's occurred to me that to call her J. just seems wrong. She was so open and thoughtful and kind. She would want you to know.

Her name was Janice.

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