Lessons learned

Well. Didn't we have quite a day yesterday.

Back in December, I applied for a govvie job as an editor at the NRC. I got screened in and scheduled to do a pre-interview editing test. McPie came home from work to stay with the kids in the afternoon while I drove all the way out to the NRC for the two-hour test. We'd been trying to get Ruby to take milk from a bottle, with little success. (She'd progressed from spitting it out to chewing the nipple in amusement, but no real drinking.) I left them with a little milk in a bottle just in case, but we knew it wouldn't be much help. So I headed out, thinking I'd be gone about three hours, four tops.

Cue winter snowstorm. It took me THREE HOURS to drive home. I was DYING the whole way, thinking of the chaos that must be happening at home: it's dinner time, McPie home alone with a starving baby and potentially volcanic kid. When I burst in the door six hours after leaving, I braced myself for the worst.

I was met with silence. Then a soft "Hi Sweetie!" from upstairs, and McPie emerged looking completely sane and undisheveled. He ducked back into our room and returned with a very happy looking Doobie-doo.

WTF?

Apparently my child prefers attention to food. She was happy all day, as long as she was entertained. She even went down for a nap. (Of course, Tim threw a bit of a hissy fit because I came home "too early", but we managed to shut him down without too much trouble.)

Then McPie made supper, we put the kids to bed, I shoveled the driveway, and we settled in for a glass wine and enjoying the fact that all was right with the world.

And I learned that I do not want to take a job that reqiures me to commute across the city. Winter storms (and other inclement weather) are not unusual up here, and I do not want to revisit that white-knuckled drive again. Ruby may not need my milk that bad, but my kids need me for other reasons, and I'm not going to live my life that far away from them.

Amen.

While I'm here are other recent milestones:

Tim seems to have rounded the corner from three to four. His crazy tantrums are much less frequent, and they are almost always defusable (is that a word) by way of reason. Thank god. The little personality he's becoming is more and more visible and vibrant. He's truly becoming himself, and himself is starting to put it all together.

We caught Ruby making adorable mouth movements: opening and closing her mouth while smiling. It was new and sweet and very soon a clear indication that she's trying to "talk". She's imitating our talking mouths, and starting to spit out syllables. True baby babble. It's awesome. I will try to get it on video.

Missed another anniversary

When les Mamans asked us if we could take the kids for a Saturday night so they could celebrate their first wedding anniversary, Sweetie McPie and I realized that we'd completely forgotten about our own wedding anniversary, which had passed a few days before that. (This was back at the beginning of August.)

Oh well! we shrugged. Luckily, we find a reason to celebrate on most days, so we probably celebrated something that day (it was a Monday, but that is no impediment), and now we had an excuse to set aside some day in the future for an extra-special celebration.

So, about three weeks ago (August 29th, specifically) was my anniversary of Not Working For The Man.

Oh, how much do I *not* miss going to the office everyday? How much do I *not* miss technical writing? (Those are rhetorical questions, but you knew that already.)

In fact, it occured to me that I should maybe now update my profile to remove the "non-aspiring tech writer part". (I could also maybe add in something about "mom" and change "apprentice knitter" to "wish I were knitting"...)

I have been lucky enough to enjoy a few "professional" (if not necessarily paid) projects over the past year -- the editing, the interview and profile writing -- and I'm looking forward to doing more of the same in the coming months. In fact, I'm almost starting to look forward to the time when Tim's old enough to maybe be taken care of by someone else (aka "daycare") for a day or two so I can dedicate some time to actual work. But I'm not in a super-hurry for that. And I count my lucky stars every day that I don't have a deadline for deciding.

What I will dare to say is, I don't think I'll be going back to an office in the forseeable future. If at all. Really maybe never.

I think that's something to celebrate.

In dreams, and out

I've been reliving, or living out, my current situation in the dreamscape of sleep. A few nights ago, I had back-to-back dreams (separated by pee breaks, naturally) about leaving work and the process of saying good-bye to coworkers. Interestingly, I have not been in touch with work since I left, and have been feeling guilty about this.

The next night, immediately following our first pre-natal course, I again had a series of dreams (again, punctuated by the nocturnal trip to the can) about childbirth. The first dream was a labour dream; the second focused on breastfeeding. (In which, when my "milk came in" my boobs took the shape of long dangly carrots that extended to almost the bottom hem of my shirt. Very disturbing.)

Finally, last night, the narrative was completed by a dream of miscarriage. Like all the pregnancy dreams so far, it was slightly but not very disturbing, a little comical, and completely surreal in its details. (E.g., My belly popped like a balloon, but there was no gore.)

I suspect that tonight's dream will focus on laundry and dishwashing.

Ultimately, I like to think that all this dreaming means I've finally found the correct configuration of pillows that allow me to sleep well, waking only the minimum number of times (say 4-5) required to depressurized my bladder and roll over to alleviate the ache in whichever shoulder/hip I'd been lying on. I'm optimistic that it won't get (much) worse. Yet.

* * *

Holiday mode seemed to last and last around here, what with post-Christmas trips to southern Ontario, and visits from my Dad and Mom respectively. Last week, I finally got down to business and it's been a whirlwind since then. In the past week or so, I've cleared out the spare room-cum-nursery, begun phase two of paid editing work, painted the nursery, did McPie's back-taxes, and knitted a woolen diaper cover. (Modeled here by Amos the bear.)



I've also maintained my usual routines of gym, laundry, and general household work. AND both kids have been sick -- of the past 8 school days, I've had one or the other here at home for 4 of them. Would have been more, but the Moms pitched in.

Phewf! It's a very good thing I don't have a real job.

The nursery and editing will be done by the end of January, making way for a very busy February. We have plans for every weekend (away for at least two of them), and McPie has been roped into back-to-back work trips to California and China. I'll be making appointments during these weeks (kinesiologist, chiropractor, dentist, anyone wanna have coffee?), since I'll have a car and will be mobile during the day.

And I'll nap, of course.

Head in the clouds, body in bed

I'm feeling a bit hazy these days, a little unfocused.

Last week felt like a bit of a frenzy. After not doing much, or at least, not having much that needed doing for quite awhile, I suddenly had several things on my plate -- the editing work, and my sister's visit. I had things to focus on, to work through and around. When I said good-bye to Julie on Monday morning, settled down to work, and then finally handed off the last chapter of the thesis on Monday night, I felt a strong sense of satisfaction and some relief. I felt like I'd accomplished something.

And now I'm resting on my laurels. Yesterday, I spent the entire morning reading in bed. I went to the gym in the afternoon, got some groceries, did the tiniest amount of tidying, spent the evening chilling with McPie, and that was pretty much it. Today, I also spent the morning reading (finishing Late Nights on Air, which I enjoyed, though I agree that the foreshadowing was heavy-handed). I'll go to the gym again this afternoon, prepare dinner (and watch SYTYCDC, of course!) I am on vacation now, having earned one by doing some "real work". But I need to decide when the vacation will end, and what to do next.

Last week while visiting with Julie, I kept getting these little pangs of anxiety. While we were out for lunch and shopping for a crib set, I noted a tingle of stress that seemed to be telling me I needed to be doing something right then. Of course, the message was that I should be at home editing, rather than out gallivanting with my sister. However, when making arrangements for the contract, I made it clear how many hours I could work each day, and this took into account prioritizing spending time with my guest. So I was doing exactly what I should be doing. But it fascinated me to not how strongly the obligation to "do work" and stick to a schedule came on, and pervaded the other parts of my life.

It wasn't an unpleasant sensation, especially because I a) wasn't dreading the work at all; in fact I looked forward to it, and b) I could fit it in when I needed to, around the other things that needed doing. And I felt productive -- like I was contributing to the family effort. It was just unexpected. And kind of inconvenient, because it occurred when I couldn't drop everything and answer to it.

The anxiety, I think came from the feeling that I had an actual, concrete obligation. The contract work, despite having a very flexible schedule, felt like more of an obligation that spending time with my guest, or cleaning the house, and this feelingis definitely directly related to the fact that my work was earning money not just appreciation. Even though, according to all our plans, I don't need to be earning dollars now -- it's just a bonus. But I have not been able, despite my best mental efforts and McPie's ongoing support and coaxing, to dissociate the concept of "contributing" from "earning money".

So, the end of my vacation could entail any of the following: resuming focus on home-making and relaxing before the storm, resurrecting my long-ago plans for self-development, or seeking out more paid work.

I haven't decided. It may be time to be proactive, rather than follow the path with my head in the clouds. I think a list is in the offing...

Things fall

Into my lap.

I chatted with my editing "client" today. She expressed satisfaction with my work (and her supervisor concurs). She expressed surprise that I was enjoying the work. She expressed enthusiasm when I confirmed that yes, I would definitely be interested in doing more of this work.

Turns out that she has a pile more reports and papers upcoming that she'd like me to edit. And she wants to pass on my references to others in her department. Seems like I might be able to save up a little for my "mat leave" after all. [Knock wood.]

As the kids say on the internet today: Woot!

Highlights and lowlights of my mini job

I have a real job this week, editing a PhD thesis. The job is really getting in the way of getting things done! My sister is arriving this evening for a visit and the house is a mess, and I have no groceries. Sigh. But I've been getting the kids to do more and more housework -- they are cooperative.

Another silver lining: I'm loving the editing! I can hardly tear myself away. Seriously, I keep trying to squeeze in a half hour here and there, and find myself saying "just one more page before I start supper...." I love digging through the APA Publication Manual, I love tracking back through to make sure I've been consistent, I love debating the choice between Cdn and American spelling, I love choosing a much better word, I love staring a sentences trying to figure out exactly what is wrong with that? I love the fiddly details.

I have no idea why this is so much better than writing. I guess I'm just not an ideas person. But if someone's willing to pay me to simply fix up their ideas, I'm okay with that.

A change is gonna come

Really, really soon. This is my last week of work. On Tuesday, September 2, I will get up out of bed, help make coffee and breakfasts, take a shower, walk the kids to school for their first day, wave good-bye to McPie from the porch as he drives off to work... Then I'll come back into the house... and probably do a little dance.

The rumours are true: I don't have any specific plans about what to do next. I don't have a job lined up. I don't even have any particular plans to look for a job. In the outside world, anyway.

It's been a bit of a tumultuous summer, coming to terms with this decision to leave my current (tedious but lucrative) career and (wonderful) employer, cold turkey. Well sort of cold turkey - working part-time this summer has given me a taste of a non-corporate life (see description of mornings above - I've practised that a bit this summer).

I've been struggling to dispel (from my own brain) the conventional notion that I'm supposed to be working at a professional job for a company that pays me a useful-sized paycheque. My instincts have traditionally told me that I contribute to a family by supporting them (and myself) financially. Over the past couple of years, it's grown increasingly apparent that having plenty of financial resources isn't the thing that makes our family happy. (I do realize there may be things I take for granted and may find out otherwise soon enough, but I'm happy to get educated.) We live simply, and the kids make it pretty clear that what they want is more of us, not more stuff or a bigger, better house. Although this has been becoming clearer to us, it's still incredibly difficult to shake the notion that we need to be working, because we can. Because we should.

Obviously, there is a practical component to this: we need to feed and clothe family, keep a roof over our heads, and provide forms of basic leisure and entertainment. And to this end, somebody has to work. But we're pretty sure that, with some careful planning, it only needs to be one of us. McPie and I have actually gone back and forth on which one of us will be the one to do so, and I stayed in my current role while he worked through a couple of career changes to find his current satisfactory position. Now I get a turn. I am so incredibly grateful to be gifted with this opportunity to grow and change in one particular area of my life.

I do have lots of plans. A big part of it, to start, will be working on our home (not necessarily the house itself, but the entire environment and set of routines), to try to optimize all the good stuff we already have going within our family. I expect (hope?!) that I'll find the motivation and time to explore some of my own interests -- which ideally will lead to revelations about where my career path lies. Maybe I'll end up back here, doing this same work; but if I do, it will be with a searched-soul and renewed outlook.

The future is pretty much wide open. I'll definitely keep you posted.

Listing

The count: 3 weeks (minus most of one in to be spent in Calgary), OR 8.5 working days.

Then, I move on to my next job. I will be self-employed, and have been working on my own job description. Here is what I have so far:

Incumbent will be responsible for the following activities:

read fiction
make lunches the night before
write anything, often
play the piano
bake bread and cookies
wave good-bye to family from porch each morning
volunteer
study French
learn a computer useful program such as DreamWeaver
keep loose tabs on contracting opportunities
work out
preserve vegetables
think seriously, consider deeply
blog daily
take the YMCA fitness certification basic theory course
redecorate the spare room
keep abreast of (or even atop!) the laundry situation
boost overall family morale

Note: This is a living document and will be continuously updated.

Day in the life

I spent the morning in meetings where I repeated the list of things I had to complete this week, in the order in which I planned to do them. The list is long; there was some incredulity. The meetings in no way helped me work towards completing the items on my list.

“How are you going to get all those things done this week?”
(Being left alone to actually DO the work would be an excellent start.)

“Can anyone help you?”
(There really is nobody else. Still. Thus the long list that belongs solely to me.)

“And you’re on vacation next week?”
(Yes, for the 10th time, yes! Oh, are you waiting for me to volunteer to stay home from my vacation? Which I booked in March, well before a deadline for this project was ever mentioned?)

“Ok, let’s meet tomorrow and talk about how you are planning to get all this stuff done.”
(Or, we could NOT meet so I can actually DO the work. As mentioned previously.)

* * *

Man, am I ever looking forward to my frisbee game tonight. Running around as fast as possible for an hour an a half sure has its place in my world. (Also, we are going out afterward to eat at the Best Kept Secret in Ottawa.)

Not what I should be doing

But in an effort to get back into a routine, here I am.

It's my day "off", but I have too much work (the salaried kind) to do, so this is just is just a brief interlude. Easier to do on a rainy day; those sunny ones are so tempting I inevitably end up mowing the lawn, putzing around the garden (not that there's much to do there... you can only get so many weeds in an 8' x 6' patch), walking to the grocery store, going for a run in the park, or partaking in even more leisurely/luxurious activities such as sipping coffee on the front porch. (Ok, that last one I've really only done once.)

I promised a picture of the veggie garden, and I did take one on Friday, but after a weekend of rain, the patch has sprouted another several inches, so I will hold off until this afternoon, and take another one that will truly impress.

Now, back to the more lucrative writing... Sigh.

Dear 10th floor kitchen nazi

I GET IT, OKAY?

I get that it's not cool to leave dishes in the sink. But I have one bowl, I use it for oatmeal every day, and it NEEDS TO SOAK for at least seven consecutive minutes in the sink or I can't get it clean. And if you keep taking it out of the sink before it's soaked, I will keep putting it back in the sink until I can get the oatmeal off without having to scratch for 5 minutes with my fingernails. (I don't get how it's better to have a dirty bowl with disgusting dried oatmeal crusties sitting on the side of the sink.) Please, just let me soak the damn thing for a couple of hours, and then I will remove it from the kitchen altogether.

****

Update on Canada's Universal Medicare situation:

Although a bit dog-eared, apparently it still exists. My Ontario doctor does accept Quebec healthcards. And the folks at the Régie du French Medical Stuff are very nice; they explained everything very clearly, and didn't make me join the FLQ or even speak French.

But the process will take weeks, and I will have to pay cash if I want to get a referral for physiotherapy in time for get me fixed for Frisbee season... Luckily, my injury stops hurting once I get warmed up. I'm certain that's a good sign.

****

Birthdays apparently roam in packs.

January and April are the big birthday months in my circle. In January, there's Trixie and her fella, and the Taller Funner Sister. Today, I woke my Mom out of a deep slumber to wish her a happy 57. It's also Vicki's big day today. Hi Vicki! Sorry about the coworker singing. I'da warned you, but Lori's eyes and ears are everywhere...

And since this is all about me, I'll point out that exactly 32 years ago today, Mom spent her birthday as big as a whale and about to head to the hospital so they could "cut the f***er out!" (F***er=moi. I was late, as usual. And also stubborn.)

Turns out that Leonardo da Vinci shares his special day with someone really important and also self-absorbed. My plans for Sunday involves champagne and chocolate truffles. And enjoying family time (and birthday cake? There'll be cake right? In addition to the truffles?) And possibly even getting out of bed. But I'll play that one by ear.

****

Green Gable - no progress. None. I've been busy with the Constant Princess. The constantly boring me out of my skull, I can't wait to get this book club meeting over with so I can chuck her out the window Princess.

One of those weeks

Glass half full
My boss at our one-on-one today: "TGIFF."

Glass half empty
Plaintive wail heard escaping from the within the Ford Focus this morning:

"Adobe Tower, stop eating my girlfriend!"