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Monday, January 27, 2014

Adventures in Babysitting

It's (fairly) late Monday evening, and I'm all wound up from eating my weight in chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream to a point where TV alone will not satisfy, and bedtime is not yet an option. So I thought I'd take to my favorite past time, and write about something that has been bugging me for a while.

Being that both hubs and I are from a city far, far away in lower Alabama, we have no family even remotely near to help us take care of our sweet little one. So far, the day to day has been tough, but totally doable - but what do we do when we want to leave her behind to venture out into the now unknown - a bar, or a movie theater?

Simple answer - we don't. Or we wait until we're in our hometown where our available resources are more than willing to watch our angel for peanuts, or nothing at all. Here's the thing - it's not that I'm not willing to let a stranger into my home to preside over my most precious possession - provided that stranger is at the very least a friend of a friend with trusted references. But the truth is my daughter goes to bed at 7 on the nose every night, and if we want to catch a 6 p.m. dinner and an 8 p.m. movie, we're lucky if we'll get away with paying no more than $65 for someone to do a menial amount of work and then sit on our couch and drink wine (yep, I'm that kind of mom) and catch up on Mad Men for 4 hours.

Granted, I know that you're paying them to give up their time too, and with a full time working husband, likely the price they'll pay is a Friday or Saturday night. But when I was a high school student, and much into my college days as well - I was happy to make even a few extra bucks, even if it meant forgoing the usual and tired bar scene (such a saint, I am, I know!). I never gave a price range. I took what I was given for the work and was grateful for it. Sure, I was more willing to clear my schedule for the higher paying clientele, but always the end of the night, no matter how much cash was handed over, I said my thank you's and my goodbyes and I went home happy.

I feel like finding a sitter willing to be paid what I can pay them for (let's be honest) doing a whole lot of baby-sitting around is near impossible these days, and I'm honestly scared to even try. Is it so wrong to expect to be paid what I think you earned? My first job making more than minimum wage was a tireless customer service position that paid a whopping $7 an hour for an entire summer. And I was psyched about it. It allowed me to move into my sorority house for an entire semester and gave me some of the best times of my life. So tell me the truth, my loyal listeners, do I stand my ground with my honest wage, or do I give in and accept the times?

Thanks as always!

Happy Monday (night) and Tuesday!

Love,
Dominique

Wednesday, January 22, 2014

The Tell Tale Signs of a Stay at Home Mom

Guten Morgen!

I just got back from a wonderful trip back home to Mobile to visit with my family. It was nice because it wasn't any kind of occasion, so we got to really spend some good time just being around everybody.

The one question I got the most while I was there was "So how are you liking being home?" I could honestly answer that I was loving it. Sure, sometimes it's not the easiest thing, but we've been having such fun together settling into our new routine. That being said, I've decided to bring this blog to a humorous note and list some funny (albeit very true) things I've noticed about my new life as a SAHM.

1) My laundry now consists mostly of baby clothes, towels, t-shirts, sports bras and yoga pants. Real pants are for people with jobs.

2) I have a TV limit of an hour and a half for my daughter. And I hate it. I hate it so much. And truth be told, we break it often.

3) I try to find an excuse to run some kind of errand each day, because if I don't leave this house, it's gonna be a loooong day.

4) I can sing the songs her various toys make in my sleep.

5) I'm breaking a cardinal rule of parenting and letting her nap on my chest every single day, twice a day. It's the only way she sleeps for a long time, and I can catch up on my Ugly Betty marathon. And let's be honest, I'm not going to use that time constructively.

6) I started off cutting bananas slices into fours and making her cream cheese toast for breakfast everyday, and we've slowly shifted to cheerios and pouch smoothies. It's still a fruit and grain! Don't judge me.

7) There are entire days where neither one of gets dressed. If I do go somewhere, it's either in A) my yoga pants or B) I immediately get comfy again when we get home. Her pants become optional too.

8) We've started a ritual where we watch for daddy's car in the driveway every afternoon. All three of us (including pug) get very excited when we see it.

9) I let her play tug of war with the pug because A)it makes her giggle and it's so cute and B)pug's teeth are like candy corns and generally couldn't hurt anything.

10) I am at home all day and I'm still a week late taking her 11 month pictures, and my house is somehow more messy than it ever was when I was working. Turns out having more time doesn't mean I'm always on top of things.

C'est la vie.

Happy Wednesday everyone!

Love,
Dominique



Wednesday, January 15, 2014

The Battle of My Heart Vs. My Head

I have now been traditionally unemployed for three weeks. I say "traditionally," because it's not like I haven't been working. My schedule is tighter, my days are longer and pay is terrible. But it's the best job I've ever had.

I have never felt so fulfilled in my work. I put her to bed every night knowing that tomorrow will be another opportunity to teach her something. In the short time I've been with her, she's learned how to share (most of the time), wave, high-five (Chris taught her that one) and is making leaps and bounds in her movements. Maybe it would have all happened anyway, whether I was there to witness it or not - but maybe there's something to be said about one on one attention.

*Disclaimer* I still fully support full time daycare, and I miss ours terribly. I treasured the morning talks with her teachers, and I know they miss her greatly as well.

That being said, today was my first official day with no paycheck. No direct deposit hit my bank account last night, and it will be a few more days until Chris's pay goes in because of the way his payroll works. We are financially fine. However, the question of whether I should pursue full time work again, part time work or stay at home is forever looming, and the pressure is definitely on.

But I should be getting unemployment pay, right? Well that remains to be seen. I have not yet received it, and the guidelines are stricter than one might think. When you file a claim for unemployment in the state of Alabama, you are automatically enrolled in a joblinks website for potential employers to find you. This is a great thing - and I applaud the system for trying to make sure the unemployed can become gainfully employed again. However, it is expected of you to reply promptly and without question to any job referral you are offered - or potentially lose benefits.

With that being said, I was somewhat forced to attend an "interview" for a life insurance company not to be named (Which is an industry I no longer want to be a part of) that turned out to be more of a mass recruitment. It was short notice (one day) and luckily I was able to ask my friend Katie to watch ladybug while I went. After sitting through a five minute interview, and then asked to watch an hour long presentation about the benefits of working for said company, I had had enough. I was angry that I had gone. I was angry that I was put in the position where I had to sit through that crap in order to collect a measly amount of money until I could find something I really wanted to do. And I sat there, judging the other people in the room for being such suckers.

I was wrong to do that. Who am I to judge someone just looking to provide for themselves or their families? Many of them were probably in my same position. So I gave myself a mental slap on the wrist and left, feeling sorry for myself.

The more I stay home with her, the more I want to stay to home. I never thought I would want to do that, but maybe it was just that I wasn't ready. Maybe maternity leave, with it's sleepless nights and tireless breastfeeding and 12 diapers a day was a really bad first impression on the life of a stay at home mom. That stage ends, you know. Even if you think it never will.

So my heart wants to be with her. Wants the freedom my days have allowed us. But the question remains on whether or not it's financially feasible for this to remain an ongoing thing. Sacrifices would have to be made, and some are already in the works - but it still may not be enough.

Full time would allow for us to resume our previous lifestyle - but then I'd be right back where I was before. Part time is ideal, but unless I find a decent part time paying position, the daycare alone would eat up the entire paycheck for the month. That would be pointless. So what's a former working mom to do? My head tells me to find work; fulfilling, worth-it work, but I think "what could I want to do more than this?"

It's a tough spot to be in, for sure. But we will get through it. One thing is for sure, I am not allowing myself to become as unhappy as I  was before. My priorities have changed tremendously, and I think I need to find my balance with heart and head.

Happy Wednesday everyone!

Love,
Dominique



Wednesday, January 8, 2014

Every Time God Closes a Door, He Opens a Window (that I now have to babyproof)

So I'm closing out week two as a full time stay at home mom. The days go by surprisingly quickly, and I can hardly believe she'll be 11 months old in just a short week. I've learned a lot - about myself, about my daughter and about the death trap my house is. Without further ado, my life lessons of the past two weeks.

1) My daughter is actually a boy. I remember all of these moms saying "Oh I NEVER had to baby proof with my girls, only my son!" "She just didn't want to get into anything." WRONG. So WRONG. My daughter seemingly has an insatiable thirst for the danger my house presents at every corner. Her favorite things to do are try to pull up on the sharp edge coffee table, lunge head first off of any bed or couch, try to put her fingers in electrical sockets and put small, old dirty objects in her mouth. Like the 30 year old rubber end to a doorstopper.

As a direct result of this, we have been forced to create an enclosed playroom out of an old couch and our formerly formal dining room. It's actually amazing. Nothing but carpet and soft furniture. As I type, she's playing on the floor and I'm not worried about her.

2) The word of the week is "commitment." I have to be committed to getting that girl to sleep. No matter how long it takes, no matter how tired I am or how much my legs ache from slow dancing with a 20 lb weight on my arms for 30 minutes, if she even so much as senses that I'm getting really impatient, she fights it. Therefore I have to relax my body and be all in. I have to send that message "I could do this all day." and mean it. It's not easy. But God bless those long naps where I can read or catch and episode of Ugly Betty on Netflix.

3) Teething is the DEVIL. Seriously, her bottom two teeth barely hurt her, but I imagine her top two to be angry little sharp dwarves that are pick-axing their way through her gums day and night. There's been a lot of crying, finger chewing and motrin over the past week. I just want my happy girl back!

4) Solid foods are also a pain in my butt. And hers. Who knew that a variety of yummy foods would wreak such havoc on my poor baby's tush? We've bought three different diaper creams in the past week, including one prescription. I can't just not feed her. She has to learn to eat what we eat, but man is it painful. I blame myself. She inherited my sensitive skin. BHH.

5) All of the toys in the world are not as interesting as the blinds cords in the playroom. They are white, dirty, make no noises and have no lights, but she is completely amused by them. Kids, right? She's getting a box for her birthday.

6) I'm having a hard time re-defining Chris and mine's parenting roles. The truth is I shouldn't be changing anything. But now that I'm staying home and he is working all day, I struggle with asking him to help me with the baby in the evenings. I should note that he is more than happy to do it. Chris has never thought of fatherhood as a duty. He wants to do things with her. But I feel guilty asking him to let me have a break after he hasn't exactly been relaxing all day. When we were both working, I felt that we were equals. We both had demanding jobs, so our jobs as parents were split as well. I fed, he bathed. I read a story, he fixed the bottle. And we both passed out around 10pm exhausted. Now I feel like we both have crazy jobs, but mine just doesn't end at 5pm anymore. I need to get over this ASAP.

7) I really want to take advantage of my freedom right now. Odd that being attached to my baby 24/7 again feels more free, but it is. No more worrying about when the grocery shopping will get done, or the laundry or doctor appointments. We have nothing but time together now. I even want to spend a few extended days in Mobile with my family, just me and her - just because we can. Honestly, I don't know if this is going to last until next month, next year or next kid. So right now I'm cherishing it.

8) Getting dressed is seriously an accomplishment. Bonus points if you shower!

Well that's all I got for today. Happy Wednesday everyone! The work week is almost over, right?

Love,
Dominique




Thursday, January 2, 2014

Truth Be Told

I woke up this morning with plans to write all about my first official week as a stay at home mom, but I am just too tired to recall everything that has happened. I'm too tired, because I was up until midnight obsessing over the events that led me to this place. I wasn't ready to talk about it last week, and I'm still not really ready. Lord knows there are a million reasons why I shouldn't, but I feel that if I don't get this stuff out of my heart it's going to grow and fester and burst and ruin my favorite yoga pants.

So here it goes:

At about 3pm the Wednesday before Christmas, I was asked if I "had a minute" and led to a conference room in our office. I was then told in a quick and decisive manor that I was being let go. It was "just not working out." anymore. The official reason I was given was that I was not passionate enough about my position. Fair enough. The truth is I've struggled with working full time ever since I had to leave my baby in someone else's care since she was six weeks old. That's no secret, and apparently it had become no secret that I was seeking to go part time, possibly around her first birthday in February.

Needless to say I was shocked. I had been warned before that I was slipping, but I had made an honest-to-God effort to improve, and had even checked in with the powers that be to see if there had been any more complaints. But despite my best efforts, they decided to move on. Maybe they can find someone single, who can come in early and stay late, and be everything they want them to be. I hope they do.

In all honesty, I wasn't sad to let that position go. I had given three years to that company, and a lot of it I enjoyed. But things are different now. I'm different now. But there was the immediate matter of my loss of income, and loss of health insurance for me and Violet. As you all know, I have a baby that catches everything under the sun, and then ear infections. Health insurance is an absolute must, and not only was I losing my half of our income, but I was now going to have to pay much more out of pocket to make sure she can go to the doctor. I started crying in that conference room. And I admitted to a friend of mine that I was scared. I was panicking. I was not putting enough trust in myself or my husband to get through this. Not in that moment.

So I walked out, all puffy faced and embarrassed, and collected some of my things. Nothing is worse than crying at work. Everyone notices. Everyone pretends not to notice, but then you know it will be the talk of the office after you leave. It's a terrible feeling, and I had to experience not only that, but then the walk out to the lobby, 28 floors on an elevator, and about a mile long walk to my parking deck.

I came home defeated, but the next day I felt better. I had a plan. I would go home an enjoy my Christmas. I would come back and sign up for health insurance, sign up for unemployment, and start a new year and a new life as stay at home mom, either full time or part time. But I still wake up sometimes feeling resentful. Feeling like I was somehow being punished for having a baby. Feeling so upset that I sacrificed so much of my time, my vacation and sick days, and my happiness only to be told it wasn't good enough.

There's a lot more I could say on the subject, but it's best to hold my tongue. It's over now, and I should be focusing on moving on and being grateful that I'm getting to do the one thing I've been wanting to do for months - be around my baby girl. Even if it's only temporary. And I should put more trust in myself, and definitely more trust in Chris. We've always been a great team, and this little hurdle will be no different. I'm lucky to have him supporting me. He didn't panic. He simply comforted me, and told me it was going to be ok. And he has not once rushed me into finding another job. He's letting me handle it. And my family has been wonderful too. My siblings and my parents have rallied, and are helping me in every way they know how. They are amazing.

So that's where we are. I promise a more entertaining post about my ups and downs as a newly stay at home mom. Believe me, there have been plenty of entertaining moments. But we're doing ok. We're having a blast together, actually.

As always, thanks for listening.

Happy Thursday!

Love,
Dominique