Why being a parent is awesome

You've been a parent for years.

You have two kids.  Or three.  Or one.  Or four.  Or eight.

You feel like you've been doing this parent thing enough to say that you are firmly in the trenches.

But you still remember what it was like to wake up (or eat...or watch tv...or take a shower...) whenever you felt like it.

Sometimes, you have these "Zach Morris" moments where time stops.  You step back and take a look around at this life.

This amazing, 
crazy, 
messy, 
fun, 
never-get-a-break, 
dishes-to-do, 
pick-up-your-socks, 
don't-hit-the-cat,
laugh-til-you-drop, 
color-me-a-picture,  
let's wrestle, 
I-love-you-so-much, 
beautiful, 
beautiful, 
beautiful
life.

It's in these moments that the contrast to your pre-parenthood days is most clear.

It's when you notice how different things are.

It's when you realize that this conversation, this place in time, this room...is different.

It's different because your kids are here.



They are here.



They are here and they are living.

They are here and they are learning.

They are here and they are teaching.


Have you ever realized all the noises that surround us everyday?  I bet you have if you've ever been the parent of a two-year old.  What's that noise?  A truck.  What's that noise? Another truck.  What's that noise?  A car.  What's that noise?  A motorcycle.  Fast?  Yes, it's going fast.  What's that noise? A garbage truck.  Trash?  Yes, it will pick-up the trash.  What's that noise?  The dishwasher.  Clean?  Yes, the dishes are getting clean.  What's that noise?  What's that noise?  What's that noise?

And this goes on.

Every hour.

Every day.

And you love it.

It shakes you out of the dull bubble that you've fallen into.  When did you stop hearing the world around you? When did it all turn into this big mish-mashed gob of sound?

You get to experience the world all over again for the first time.

The first time you hold up your head.

The first time you grab a toy.

The first time you smile.

The first time you feel rain on your skin.

The first time you take off your own shoes.

The first time you GO PEE PEE IN THE POTTY!
(which you scream and clap for like HGTV showed up to give you a total home makeover)

The first time you lose a tooth.

The first time you squish yogurt through that hole in your mouth.

So many firsts...

So many smiles...

So many furrowed brows in frustration while figuring out how to do all of these firsts...

So many hugs...

So many kisses...

So much.

Love.

Being a parent is awesome.

My imperfect life

I have an imperfect life, and I love it.

I've been a bit absent from the blogging world for awhile, and that's because I have a new baby boy! Mason James was born on Thursday, May 30 at 5:28am.  He's pretty much an ah-mazing baby (praise God!), but caring for a newborn and a toddler has definitely been a challenge.  The hubby has been a big help, but my (already lacking) ability to stay in top of laundry, cleaning, etc. has taken somewhat of a nosedive in the past three weeks.

Sometimes that really stresses me out.

I have perfectionistic tendencies, and I really like when things are neat, clean, and organized.  However, I seem to constantly battle to make that happen.

I used to blame it on my hubby.  I thought that our home would be Pinterest-perfect if he would just pick up his clothes and wipe up the crumbs.  Then I looked in the mirror.  Metaphorically.  Really, I took one look around the kitchen to see the cereal box I never put back in the pantry, and the pile of washcloths I hadn't put in he laundry basket. My computer and calendar were spread across the counter.  This was my mess.  No doubt about it.

Oh, sure, the Mr. had his fair share of clutter lying around, but I could no longer deceive myself into thinking that I was not a part of he problem.

But tonight at dinner I realized that it really isn't a problem at all.

Not for me.

After we were done eating, my son-the-comedian was cracking up as he hid carrots inside of his T-shirt.  He laughed hysterically as he stuffed it down his shirt, and I could get over the adorable crinkles under his eyes as he asked us where it went.  The sheer joy in his face as he pulled down his collar to reveal the collateral was just TOO MUCH.  There was no way I could be upset that the collar on his shirt was completely
stretched out and the T-shirt was now more of a loose wrap around his tiny body.

I thought about how special it was that we were all here, in THIS MOMENT, laughing together, sharing life.

This is why I don't like to have a lot (any?) "perfect" things.  I don't want to risk being upset if they get ruined.  Things aren't nearly as important to me as the people in my life.

I looked over my son's shoulder at the kitchen chair...the same kitchen chair which we bought only six months ago.  Instead of looking shiny and new, most of our chairs look like something has been eating them.  Literally.  That's because our newest cat, Rambo, literally gnaws on the corners of all of our chairs.  I have no idea why. Believe me, it drives me insane and makes me want to clamp his mouth shut BUT someday I will look at those teeth marks and they will remind me of this cat, who in his own way has been just exactly what each member of our family needed from a pet.

Tonight I've been looking around the house through his lens, one of seeing the imperfect things as a testament to the life I am living rather than glimpses of what I wish it were.

The shoes scattered by the door tell a story of an evening playing at the park and being too excited for bath time to bother to pick them up.

The crumpled towel in the bathroom shows that (1) we actually wash and dry our hands and (2) I'm usually running out of the bathroom to make sure my almost-2 year old hasn't poked out the eyes of his little brother.  And, hey, that's WAY more important than neatly hung linens!

The basket of laundry in the living room is filled with the blessing of having clean clothes to wear.

If you come to my house, I will welcome you with open arms.  I'll probably apologize for the mess because that's what Minnesota women do. But really, I'll be more grateful for the sock war I had with my son than embarrassed by the laundry strewn about the living room.  So, come on over, but you might want to watch your step.

Sincerely,
A recovering neat freak


P.S.  If you have ANY idea how to get my cat to stop eating my chairs for lunch, I'd love to hear it.  He's left me enough "mementos."   ;)

Morning Adventures

One of my tactics for staying sane as a WAHM is to have some kind of an outing every day.  Usually, this means heading somewhere in the mid-morning, between a burst of work in the morning and lunch/nap time.  Today, my little guy and I had a special adventure to the Linden Hills neighborhood.  We were drawn by stories of an eclectic children's bookstore that is home to a chicken, a few cats, ferrets, doves, some reptiles, and a rat that lives under a window in the floor.  After we got there, I discovered that a yummy ice cream shop was just around the corner, too!  Despite the drizzle, we walked around the neighborhood, stopping at shops, eating ice cream, and snatching a few free bread samples from a local bakery.  It was a fantastic way to perk up our spirits in the middle of a busy week!  Here are a few pictures from our adventure:

Max thought the chicken pecking around the store was pretty fantastic!

Yes, it is a real chicken.  (!)

The birds were chattering to each other by the rain soaked windows.

These chinchillas were both sleeping with their heads hanging out of their little hut!

These are two of the house cats at the bookstore.  They were far and away Max's favorite animals there!

Who says you can't eat ice cream at 10:30am?  Not me!

YUMMY!

Things to remember

Maybe it was the pregnancy hormones, or maybe it was exhaustion after a day of lots of back pain, or maybe it was just good 'ole maternal nostalgia...but for whatever reason, I  broke down into tears last night.  Several times.  That hasn't happened in a while, but I have to say that it felt kind of good.  Amidst the chaos of WAHM-dom, I sometimes forget to just take a step back and marvel at this amazing thing of motherhood.  It really is a beautiful thing that sometimes grabs me so hard I can barely breathe.  That was last night.

I was thinking about how fast the past two years have gone.  I am just a few weeks away from welcoming my next baby boy into this world, but it feels like only yesterday that my 22 month old was the one kicking and wiggling inside of me.  Words can't even describe how excited I am to meet this next little boy, but I am also a little bit sad that I won't be able to focus so much of my time just on Max.  If you haven't met him, he's a pretty spectacular kid!  I know that soon I will barely even remember what life was like when we only had one son to clothe and feed and pray with.  I know that I will love this next little boy just as much, and that I will want to squeeze him so tight and never let go, too.  I know that my heart will grow and our family will be even more filled with love when this next baby comes.

But for now, I want to try to lock a place in my brain just for these precious memories of life as a family of three.

I want to remember how Max calls, "Mama!" and runs to me as fast as he can every time I pick him up from the gym.

I want to remember how he sweetly says, "Hi," when he wanders out of bed because he can't sleep.

I want to remember how it feels when his head nestles on my shoulder as we read stories.

I want to remember how he curls himself around my swollen belly when I rock him to sleep.

I want to remember the moments when he lets me rock him to sleep.

I want to remember how he furrows his brow when he's thinking really hard about something.

I want to remember how he scrunches his eyes together when he's trying to learn a new concept (like how "I don't know" means something different than "no no.")

I want to remember how he "scares" me by jumping out and shouting "Boo!"

I want to remember the sweet, sugary sound of his voice when he says, "Bubble?  Bubble?  Bubble?"  (Nearly always sounding like a question on repeat!)

I want to remember how I can gradually feel his skin losing its baby softness and gaining its little boy firmness.

I want to remember how he shouts "Whoa!" every time he goes down a slide or scoots on a scooter.

I want to remember how blue his eyes look first thing in the morning.

I want to remember that sometimes all he needs is a touch from me to feel all better.

I want to remember how he asks to pray before eating a snack, even if it's a cup of pretzels in the car.

I want to remember how his feet seem to fly sideways when he starts running really fast.

I want to remember the way he stands so still if he gets to have his hair cut.

I want to remember how he always wants to know where the cats are and if they are sleeping.

I want to remember how he signs "thank you" if he wants me to give him something.

I want to remember how he excitedly signs "All done!" when the cats open their eyes after he finds them napping peacefully.

I want to remember that some days it was hard to just make it to lunch time, and then to dinner, and then to bed time.  I want to remember that not every day was fun and happy.  (Those hard times make the good times that much sweeter.)

I want to remember that it is okay that I don't have all of these things on video or in photos because I was too busy living in the moment to find a camera.


There are so many things I want to remember, but I know I will forget a lot of them.  And that is okay, too, because I have a lifetime of more memories to come that will be just as sweet and cherished.

You know you're a WAHM when...

...you have more yoga and sweat pants than jeans and slacks.

...showering becomes an optional part of your day.

...you are over-protective of your computer and favorite mousepad.

...you master the art of attending a meeting and entertaining a toddler simultaneously.

...the task of fixing your hair involves nothing more than a ponytail holder.

...you forget to pay attention to the weather because it doesn't affect your commute anyway.  (..yay!...)

Adapting

The past two weeks have brought quite a few changes for my daily WAHM routine:


At 20 months, Mr. Max has decided that sleeping in a crib is a thing of the past.  We bravely transitioned him to his "big boy" bed after several nights of him repeatedly climbing out of his crib and causing all kinds of ruckus in the house, including trying to shave his non-existent beard in the dark bathroom while I tried to muster up the energy to roll out of bed to put him back in his crib AGAIN.

His "big boy" bed is a twin mattress and box spring on the ground near the crib.  He has transitioned marvelously!  Although moves around a bit before going to sleep, he has been doing really well at getting himself to sleep before too long and without too much intervention.  I was anxious about how this would affect his naps, and how much more time I would need to devote to putting him back in bed without the barrier of the crib rails to keep him from playing in his room.  It's been about a week and half since the transition, and he's doing great!  Yesterday, I was able to do our "normal" nap time routine, and he crawled into bed without even seeming that tired.  Within 15-20 minutes, he was sleeping soundly in his bed.  As a WAHM, I am extra thankful for this because every minute of nap time is precious work time for me!  The only major adjustment I am making is that I bring my computer upstairs to work in the living room until he falls asleep.  That way I am close by to remind him that he needs to stay in bed.  After he is asleep, I move back to my basement office to work for the rest of his nap.

Mr. Max has also decided that sleeping until 8 am is for the birds.  He suddenly wants to be an early riser, getting up anywhere between 6-7am.  This has been the hardest adjustment for me, since I typically was able to get 2 hours or work done before he woke up in the morning.  Now, that has dwindled to anywhere from 0-60 minutes, depending on when his little feet pitter-patter across the kitchen floor.

Partially to counteract that lost time, I signed up for a membership at a local YMCA.  So far, I love it!  As part of the membership, Max can go to their kids program for 2 hours each day.  My intention is to use that time mostly for work, and hopefully squeeze in a short workout when I can.  Since I'm 8 months pregnant, spending hours on the treadmill is not a high priority of mine anyway.  In the fall, I might make more of an effort to get in that workout.  :)

I have never joined a gym before mostly because, well, I'm too cheap.  I've never been able to justify the expense when I can just run outside FOR FREE.  But now, I look at the cost as covering some much-loved childcare PLUS access to a pool, which will be nice for family outings and teaching our little guy how to swim.  I also feel a little better about managing WAHM-hood with two kiddos next year, knowing that I'll at least have some time for me and to work each day when we go to the gym.

Oh, one more thing...

Max suddenly has become far too mature to be confined to a high chair.  He puts up a huge fuss about using his high chair tray, and often won't even let me buckle him into the seat, which can also function as a booster by the table.  While this is probably a tricky transition for a lot of parents, I really really liked that time in the high chair.  After I ate or read bible stories with him, I would often use the time to get some quick housework done or answer a few emails.  Maybe not the most ideal parenting strategy, but, hey, you do what you have to do sometimes!  Now, I mostly give reminders, warnings, and try to train him to handle the freedom of sitting at the table.  *Sigh*

After many months of a having a consistent routine, the changes in the past weeks have both been hard and refreshing.  With each new "milestone," I find myself being challenged as a parent, which is another opportunity to grow, learn, and sometimes pull my hair out.   :-P

Carry on!

An Imperfect Day

When I was in high school, I was really fascinated by quotes.  I liked philosophical quotes, funny quotes, and everything in between.  I used to keep a book where I would write down (in colorful, decorated marker letters) some of my favorite quotes.



 
Today, I thought about one of the quotes I'd written down.
 





This is an odd one, and it fascinated me for years.  When you really think about it, it's actually kind of depressing, but it still makes me giggle.  Well, today is one of those bug/windshield days for me.  I'm not sure which I am, but I am definitely not a ray of sunshine.

 
I am sick.  Again.
 
I don't sleep more than a few hours in a row.
(Third trimester of pregnancy means bigger baby and smaller bladder.)

I was up for 2 hours last night being a very boring mom as my toddler battled another sleepless night.



There you go.  That's my pity party for the day.  Really, in the grand scheme of life, it's not that bad.  I know, I should pull myself up by the bootstraps, slap a smile on my face, sing a song, reply to 20 emails, and teach my toddler Mandarin Chinese.



But I'm not going to do that.


Nope.


I'm going to be happy with just being a patient mom today.




We aren't going to try 20 Pinterest Projects to Do with Your Toddler.

 
I'm not going to clean the bathrooms with homemade non-toxic scrub.

 
I may brush my hair sometime before dinner.
Maybe.


We'll have frozen waffles for breakfast and canned soup for lunch.

Max will have more freedoms today than usual, and the house won't be in top-top shape.  But that's okay.



Today I am focusing on grace and gratitute.



Grace for Max.  He's getting over a cold, and he has to be around a sick mom all day.


Grace for me.  Sometimes, it's okay to let go of being perfect and just be real.

Today, I am grateful that a lot of my online students are assuming it is Spring Break (it's not) and not turning in as many assignments.


Today, I am grateful that I have son who does pretty well playing independently.




Okay, as I wrote that last sentence, he walked over to me.  Pants-less.





Yep, today is an imperfect day.



But that is okay.  Some days are just like that.


Heck, some minutes are just like that.

This whole day could turn around in ten minutes.

 
(I'm pretty sure if I could have a cup of coffee that would be the case, but that's another story....)


Ah...coffee....









Sorry, I'm getting side-tracked.



Well, I better run.  It's time to heat up that canned soup for lunch.






Final thought:  Give someone grace today, maybe even yourself.

My Story: Part 2

If you have not read My Story, you might want to start here.





Once I had gained the opportunity to work from home for 50% of my full-time job, I was determined not to mess it up.  I became even more of a model employee.  I responded to emails promptly, completed tasks ahead of schedule, and was available online as often as possible during the day for my coworkers.  Even though I could have *technically* done a lot of the work in the evenings, I was diligent about staying close to my computer during the day so that I was never more than an instant message away.

I did this for two reasons:

First, I did not want to lose the privilege of working from home.  I wanted to prove that I could do high quality work in a timely manner no matter where I was located.

Second, I wanted it to be so successful, that they would not view me as an "exception" and open the opportunity to my coworkers.  I heard murmurings about people being frustrated that I was given this opportunity when they were not, and I viewed myself as a guinea pig.  Maybe if I was really successful, then they would allow others do to the same.  (In turn, this would ultimately help me by allowing me to extend the arrangment beyond the school year.)



While I was in the office, I did my best to shine and show that I was a fully participating member of our team.  I also did my best to be flexible with my schedule.  I would offer to switch my "at-home" days if there was an important meeting to attend.  When meetings ran long, I smiled, gritted my cheeks, and tried not to think about how desperately I needed to sneak away to use my pump.  (Remember, I had an infant at home!)



Despite all of this, it was decided that I could not continue to work from home.



Major bummer.



The reason?  My direct superior said it was just "not working."  When pressed on the issue, she said that I did everything fine and there was no problems with my work, but that she was feeling resentment and an extra burden when I was not in the office.    I wanted to say about a million things back, like Why didn't you share the workload better, then?  Why don't you request to have this arrangement, too?  I never said I wanted to be the only one doing it!  And on and on and on...

Instead, I politely nodded and made some suggestions about how it might work better.  But I was shut down.

Well, at least I can say that I tried...



In the meantime, I had expected this to happen.  About mid-way through my working-from-home stint, I suspected that they would not extend the offer, regardless of how I performed.  So, I made alternate plans.


I got a job as an online teacher.

 

 

 

At first, I only worked as a contractor for about 10 hours per week.  So, from February 2012-June 2012, I was working over 50 hours each week, commuting 2 hours each day when I went to the office, somehow managing to keep up with pumping and nursing, and keep the house one notch above total disrepair.  I was exhausted.  I got up at 4:30am to grade papers before starting the "real" day.  Then I stayed up late to finish anything I didn't get done earlier in the day.  I was running on fumes.



But I knew it couldn't last forever.




This was only a season in my life.  And I can handle anything for a season, right?




That's what I would tell myself.




Every day.



I knew that God had a plan for me, that this was part of it, and that eventually I would understand where it was all headed.


I finished my full-time job at the end of June 2012.  They wanted to keep me on as a free-lancer, but they couldn't give me any details about what that would really mean.  I didn't know what kinds of projects I would get, when I would get them, or how much I would get paid.


I had no idea how we were going to pay our mortgage the next month.  We had some money in savings, but we didn't want to dip into that too much.



A few weeks earlier, I had been bumped to a 0.25 FTE position as an online teacher (instead of a contractor).  The benefits of that were a steady salary, rather than being paid per student and course.  The amount I earned didn't change, but I was assured money if my enrollments dropped during the summer months.

When I knew that my full-time job was ending, I started dropping more and more hints to my online supervisors and colleagues that I was interested in increasing my status to full-time.  Some teachers had been stuck at 0.25 FTE for years without getting bumped up, so I didn't know if it would really happen.



But I prayed.



Hard.



For something, anything.



And God provided.



Within two weeks, I was bumped up to 0.75 FTE as an online teacher.  I also received my first freelance project.  Together, they would earn me roughly the equivalent of my full-time salary!

I was on vacation in Texas when I got the news, and I'm pretty sure my neighbors in Minnesota heard my squeel of delight.



Since then, I have been doing roughly the same thing: working steadily as a 0.75 FTE online teacher and balancing it out with freelance projects from my former employer.  Sometimes it is crazy, but I am confident that I'm doing what I'm supposed to be doing, which brings me great joy.




With our next baby due in a few months, I have been feeling anxious about how I will keep up with all of this.  I have a schedule and routine with my toddler, but how will this work with an infant, too?  Then, I think about the year after that...I will have TWO toddlers (ages 1 and 3).  How's THAT going to work???






I have no idea.



But I don't have to.



I heard someone talking on the radio yesterday about how there is no grace in hypothetical situations, only what is happening today.  So, it isn't worth worrying about.



I know it will all work out just how it is supposed. to. 

When did my baby become a little boy?

In the past week, my 19-month old has done several things that made me step back, drop my jaw, and stare in astonishment.  He didn't meet any of those major milestones that you will find on websites and in pediatricians' offices.  The changes are more subtle, but in some ways they are far cooler than any of those official markers of age.  Now, I totally understand that some of these things might be cool only to me as his mom, but, well, heck, I'm a proud momma and I want to write about them!

He has become one of the "big kids" at storytime.


We often go to storytime at our local library for "babies" 0-24 months.  This week, I noticed that Max has become one of the big kids at these events.  It's now his job to look out for the babies and be gentle with the toys.  When did that happen?!?  I feel like it was yesterday that he was the one getting his toys snatched away by the big kids!







He can open and close doors.


He can't quite reach most handles well enough to turn, but he finds so much joy in opening a door to say "hi!" then waving "bye" and shutting the door again.  He's had the ability to push doors open and closed for a while, but I am impressed at his imaginative ability as he plays this game.





He doesn't need to be carried everywhere.


I'm rounding the corner into my third trimester of pregnancy, so for the past few weeks I have been working with Max to be able to walk more places on his own.  (Carrying him is getting harder for me, and I know it will only become more so after the baby is born.)

Two weeks ago, Max could only handle walking the short distance from a sidewalk to the door of a building.  He was so distracted by everything else, that I was mostly plucking him from the pavement just to keep moving.  This week he showed that he could handle walking farther and farther without getting tired or distracted by ice chunks, dirty cars, or stray shopping carts!



He can remember directions and follow them.


Sometimes I give Max little jobs to do while I am getting meals together.  If my husband is working somewhere in the house (usually the basement), I will write a note that says "Dinner is ready" and ask Max to give it to Daddy.  It amazes me that Max is able to hold onto and deliver the note while walking past roomfuls of toys and other distractions!








He added new words to his vocabulary.


Just two months ago, it seemed that he was destined to say little more than "dis" (this) for the rest of his life.  Now, he can say lots of different words, and even tries to imitate new words each day!  Here are some of the recent additions to his vocabulary (along with how they actually sound):

 

yes

(ahs)

 

 

Papa

(pap or papa)

 

 

roar!

(raw!)

 

 

off 

(means both off and on)

 

 

bus

(ahs)

 

 

 

meow

(mmm...with an adorable, cat-like inflection!)

 

 

 

bop

(I still haven't totally figured out all of the meanings of this word, but he says it alot!)

 

 

 

 



He doesn't sleep like a baby.

 

 

Gone are the days when shushing and rocking sooth him into sleep. I can no longer just swoop him up and hold him to help him fall back asleep if he wakes too soon.  I find myself having to think more and more about how I feel when I'm tired and can't sleep, or when I need to wind down for a nap, rather than what works for a baby. 

 

He has his own little quirks, like having to have a sip of water before settling down, wanting a blanket tucked up by his face to sleep, and watching me swish the hanging polka dots above his bed before I walk out of the room.  It is so fun to watch him develop his own preferences!

 

 

I hope you don't mind my musings about my little guy.  I don't keep any kind of journal, and it's nice to have some kind of record of thoughts and reflections like this.  Thanks for indulging me.  :)

 

 





 



My Story

I did not set out to be a work-at-home mom.  I totally saw myself as a working mom who wore black slacks and cardigans every day, packed lunches in the morning, and headed out the door by 7am.

By the time I coasted into my third trimester of pregnancy, I had registered for a spot at a home daycare near where we lived.  The daycare provider had been working with kids for over 20 years, seemed great, had a clean home, and was super friendly.  I even did my due diligence and checked her record with the local licensing agency.  Clean as a whistle.

Whenever I felt weepy about the idea of leaving my baby with someone else, I reminded myself that it was probably just pregnancy hormones, that I had gone to a daycare as a child and turned out fine, and that it would all be okay.  As I basked in the glow of my first pregnancy, I did not know that God had a whole different plan in mind...







On July 10, 2011 my son Max was born.








My heart skipped a beat.







I fell in love.







I soaked up every minute of my maternity leave, expecting that I would rarely be able to spend so much time in my life just staring at that baby soft skin and those beautiful blue eyes.

During the last weeks before I was scheduled to return to my full time job, I would cry and laugh when Max has his "happy baby time" every morning.  We would smile and giggle at each other, but I knew--or thought I knew--that those days were numbered.  Soon, I would be spending that time sitting meetings or staring at a computer screen.  Someone else would laugh and giggle with him.


Excuse me while I choke up a bit at that memory.


Two days before my maternity leave ended I received a call that would change our lives dramatically.

At 10:37am on a Thursday morning, our daycare lady called to tell me she had had a family emergency.  She would not be able to take Max for more than two days a week.


I was going back to work five days a week, starting Monday.


Oh goody.


I had experienced the nightmare of finding good childcare already.  I did that before, when I was pregnant, like I was supposed to.  I had spent weeks interviewing daycare providers and taking tours of centers.  Now, I had a day and a half to figure something out.

While my heart reeled at the "injustice" of it all...I had done everything right, hadn't I?  How could this happen to me?  It was all planned out...

My heart also ached for whatever family emergency had arisen to warrant such a dramatic decision by the daycare provider.

Instead of spending those last days staring at my baby boy, I frantically called every daycare provider in the area to set up interviews and tours.

For a few weeks, family and friends offered to watch Max while I worked.  I was astounded at the outpouring of support we received.  It was not an easy time for me, and having people offer to open up their homes and rearrange their schedules to help out was a true blessing.  The next several weeks were a blur or scheduling babysitters, calling and visiting potential providers, and adjusting to a full-time work schedule again.

I called and visited countless daycares.  If you've never looked for childcare for an infant, let me tell you this: it is hard.  Really hard.  First, because of limits on the number of kids they can have, it is hard to even find a daycare facility with an infant opening, let alone an opening immediately.  Most places book months in advance.  If you find somewhere with an opening, it is even harder to determine if it will be a good fit for your baby.  I mean, c'mon, a 3-month old can't exactly tell you that Miss Judy Schmoozy spent the entire day watching Days of our Lives while he cried his lungs out in a pack-n-play in the upstairs closet.  There are things to look for, but a lot of it is trusting your gut.  And listening to people.  When I called the county licensing agency about one provider, she asked me if I had visited the lady's home yet.  When I told her I hadn't, she told me--in as nice and professional a way as possible--that the home was not particularly tidy.  In fact, I'm pretty sure she used the term "garbage house" to describe it.  Wonderful.  Cross that one off the list.

Finally, after a few weeks, everything seemed to converge.  We interviewed a phenomenal daycare provider, who both my husband and I fell in love with.  After meeting with her, we couldn't imagine sending our little guy anywhere else.  There was a catch, though.  Her rates were non-negotiable and twice as much as most other providers.  Awesome.

Meanwhile, the outpouring of support we'd received at the beginning of this ordeal had dwindled a bit, which is understandable.  It had been 3 weeks of pinch-hitting babysitters, and everyone was ready to be back in a normal routine.

While all of this was happening, my husband and I were racking our brains trying to solve this problem.  If we couldn't find a good daycare to fit our schedule, then maybe our schedule needed to change.  Since it was financially wise that we both work, we explored the possibility of me finding a different job and working nights and weekends.  We also explored the idea of me working from home.

With little hope of that working out, I pitched the idea to my employer.  I started out by asking to work from home three or more days per week. I also asked if working part-time would be an option.  I was met with blank stares in astonishment.  And a solid assurance that part-time was not an option.  They had just laid off every part-time employee and had no intention of opening that door to anyone else.

But I had prepared for this.  I did some research and put together a proposal of my request along with statistics and anecdotes about how "telecommuting" had benefited other companies.  In all of it, I took the angle of benefitting the company, not me personally.



They didn't say no. 


But they didn't say yes.


As with most corporate jobs, my supervisor had to talk with his supervisor who had to email so-and-so who had to consult with HR, blah blah blah.  Well, this process didn't work very well for me and my increasingly urgent need for a permanent solution.  By this point, I was leaving my son with acquaintences that seemed friendly and trustworthy but whom I barely new.  Things were getting desperate.


Well, you know what they say about desperate times...


After four weeks of not getting a solid answer about my proposal, I took a huge risk.  I wrote a letter of resignation, effective in nine days.  Not only was I going to give my supervisor an ultimatum, but I was giving less than two weeks' notice AND I would have to email it to him while he was at a conference at our company's headquarters in another country.  Yes, I was that desperate.


Quite certain that I was committing career-suicide, I prepared to pack up my desk and head to the local Aldi, where I would buy some generic pasta, ketchup, and peanut butter to eat for the foreseeable future.




But God works in amazing ways.




They approved my request to work at home.



Sort of.



They would allow me to work from home for 6 weeks.


I said, How about 8 months?



They offered 1 day per week.


I said, How about 2 days one week and 3 days the next? (splitting my time 50/50 at home and in the office.)


They said, Okay.



When does this start? I asked.

Immediately, they said.



I almost fell off my chair.




And that is how it all began...






Want to know more?  Read My Story: Part 2.

Highlights and Lowlights

Every day, I like to think about the "highlights" and "lowlights" of my day.  It helps me to put things into perspective.  Here's an example:

Today's "highlight" was when Max snuggled up while I sang him a lullabye before bed.  I love how he wiggles until he finds just the right spot to rest his head on my shoulder.

Today's "lowlight" was when I snapped at my husband without waiting to hear his side of the story.  I rushed to judgement and quickly realized that God is right when he says: Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry.  I was none of these.

I thought I would take a moment to share with you my "highlights" and "lowlights" of working from home.

 

Highlights of Working from Home

1. I do not have a commute.
   Seriously.  This cannot be stressed enough.  I live in Minnesota, where snow is common and "snow days" are not.  In other words, all of those states that basically shut down when a snowflake crosses an upper layer of the atmosphere can just take a backseat for a moment.  When it snows 8 inches overnight, schools do not even close here.  I'm not kidding.  Maybe they do in outlying areas, but not in the metro.  This wreaks havoc on the life of a commuter.  Even if there is a "dusting" of snow, a 45 minute commute turns into a grueling two and a half hour drive that moves at a pace that would make even your grandmother impatient.  In the past week, there have been several minor snowfalls (READ: 2-ish inches) that have fallen during rush hour.  Each and every time this happens, I am thankful that I get to actually be home for dinner and not sitting on a freeway somewhere.
2. I get to wear sweatpants every day.
   I really, really love sweatpants.  So do you.  Just admit it.  Enough said.
3. I get to be there when my son wakes up and goes to bed.
   Those are some of my favorite times.  I love how he is all happy and energetic first thing in the morning.  I love that sometimes we throw a blanket on the floor and have a "picnic breakfast."  I love how he wants me to read bible stories to him during breakfast.  I love how he chooses book after book before naptime.  I even love when he is whiny and crabby after he wakes up from a nap.  I love the challenge of moving at just the right pace and finding just the right things to do to help him ease out of that naptime funk.  These are things that I would either not get to do or would have to rush through if I worked outside the home.
4. I get to have my own office
   Not everyone who works from home is able to have a separate office room, but I think it is CRITICAL to have at least a dedicated space for work.  One of our spare bedrooms doubles as my office and Max's playroom.  I love that I get this space.  I have shared many classrooms and cubicles, and it is really nice to have four walls and big window that are mine.  My office isn't really anything special.  It's not decorated super cute or set up with a fancy desk, but I love it.  (And if Pinterest has anything to say about it, one day it will be perfectly organized, color-coordinated, and kid-friendly.)
5. I get to set my own hours.
   Again, not everyone who works from home has this luxury, but I am thankful that I do.  Most weeks, I have at least one scheduled meeting, which I need to schedule around, but other than that I mostly get to set my own hours.  As long as I get my work done, nobody cares when it happens.  Although, tomorrow I will be calling about 80 students, and I'm pretty sure they wouldn't appreciate their phones ringing at 6am.  :)
6. I get to spend more time with my family.
   As mentioned earlier, I used to commute 45 minutes one way every day.  And that was on a good day.  Some days--even without snow--it was more like an hour.  If you add that up, it's almost 8 hours of driving time each week that I don't have to do anymore.  All of that time can now be spent driving toy cars with my son or cleaning up the house so that after bedtime I can actually spend a few minutes with my hubby.

Lowlights of Working from Home

1. I struggle to walk the line between being a "good mom" and a "good worker."
   Sometimes I want to shut my computer and play with my son without distractions.  Sometimes I want to shut the door and leave my son out of the room so that I can work without distractions.  It's hard to juggle both.
2. I miss having "real" co-workers.My fellow online teachers seem great, at least in our emails and Facebook group.  But I will never have the same kind of relationship with them as I did with those people that I sat next to for 40+ hours each week.  We don't share jokes the same way or give each other knowing glances during yet another ridiculous meeting.  We don't grab a sandwich for lunch or a quick coffee during a tough morning.  And my cats just don't have the same satisfying reaction when I groan after seeing the long list of assignments in my grading queue.
3. I don't get "dressed up" very often.
   No, really.  I know this sounds conceited, and I never thought I would feel this way.  BUT sometimes I actually miss putting on my gray slacks and sassy-yet-sensible heels with the stereotypical cardigan that every 20- or 30-something wears to the office.  Those clothes made me feel good, like a professional.  And then I remember how uncomfortable those slacks were and how much I love my sweatpants...
4. I have to clean up after every meal.
   Again, it sounds stupid, but that is my least favorite thing to do.  The sticky hands and dirty high chair.  The constant loading and unloading of the dishwasher.  I wish Rosie the Robot would just take care of it all for me.

Whenever the "lowlights" start to wear me down, I remember the highlights and all of the blessings and opportunities working from home affords me.  I like that I get to have a foot in both the world of a working mom and the world of a stay-at home mom.  I feel like part of me can relate to both of these situations.  And I like that I get to work, practice my skills and talents, make some money, and take care of my family all at the same time.  It's a pretty sweet gig.  But don't get me wrong--it sure ain't perfect.  No matter what you do for work or what your family life is like, there are always highlights and lowlights.  What highlights help you get through the lowlights of life?

Love,
Lisa

A Treat for Myself

Last week I finished a big freelance project I have been working on, so my schedule is a little bit more free this week.  (Cue the music!)

Yesterday, my online students seemed to decide that they deserved an extra long weekend, and I had only 8 assignments and quizzes to grade.  That's a new low record!  I have about 150 students, and I usually grade MUCH MUCH more than that each day.

During my 18-month old's naptime, I was a little stunned at the emptiness in my gradebook.  With no freelance gigs in the works, I was a little bit lost with myself.  What am I going to do for the next two hours?!

For about 2.5 seconds I considered doing some of the extra organizing, cleaning, and maintenance tasks I push to the side, both in my home and my virtual classroom.

But with all the enthusiasm of a kid on a snow day, I shouted FREE DAY!!!



(Okay, fact check: I didn't really shout.  C'mon, it was naptime!  But I did think it very enthusiastically.)

I grabbed my bible and spent some time reading, took a nap, and woke up in time to check my gradebook again.  Still empty.  (As a teacher, I was a bit worried about the lack of progress my students were making.  As a person, I was thrilled with the lack of work to do.  See!  Teachers are people, too!)  With a few minutes to go before naptime was over, I cracked open one of the last boxes of Girl Scout cookies hiding in our freezer, and cozied up with a parenting magazine that came in the mail.  Ironically, one of the articles was about taking time, especially during naps, to do something that re-energizes you.  Ha!  Here I was, actually doing that!

I know that yesterday was a special treat.  As a full-time WAHM, naps are usually spent furiously writing, grading, and responding to emails.  But I realized something important.  Even though most of those times are spent working, I still sneak in little ways to re-energize myself.

Here are a few things that I do to re-boost my energy when I have those few precious moments:

grab a quick snack that I don't have to share
(Hey, I'm also 5 months pregnant. What do you expect?)

turn the radio to something other than my children's stations on Pandora

take a few minutes to fix my hair or makeup, even if I don't plan to leave the house

organize my desk for a few minutes

pick up the toys scattered around the floor

watch 10 minutes of TLC or CNN

Your list might be totally different.  God made each of us unique, and what re-boosts me might exhaust (or bore) someone else.  But I encourage you to find something to fill up your gas tank so that you can keep going when naptime--or Sesame Street--or time out--is over.

Keep on truckin',
Lisa