Ch-ch-ch-changes

So I, uh… I got a job. I’ve been at home for three years, essentially; I worked full-time while Georgia was little and then left my job when Adele was born (2 kids at full-time daycare + one nonprofit salary = you do the math) and I wanted to do that, anyway. So I had a wonderful three years at home, spending time with Adele and being able to pick Georgia up from preschool at 3 every day. We did music classes, we had playdates, I did photography on weekends, and it worked really well for us. At the beginning of this year, though, we sat down and looked really hard at our budget and it was just time for me to go back. We’ve made a lot of sacrifices over these past few years to keep me at home, and while it worked and was FINE, it was time to make the big change and for me to go back to work.

Georgia is in kindergarten now at an amazing school downtown (we love it and she loves it) and Adele is going to the same preschool where Georgia went at her age. Both schools have an afterschool option; Georgia takes Spanish at hers, and A has SPanish and music classes. Truly, we’re so lucky to have options that we’re happy with and that make both girls comfortable. It’s win/win. Well, except for the guilt. Because how can there not be mom guilt involved in all this?

My second week of work (last week) both girls got horribly ill. Ear infections, bronchial infections, antibiotics… the works. And both of them are normally fairly healthy, as it happens; I can’t remember the last time that they were both sick, especially at the same time. But of course, since it was my second week, I really felt like I couldn’t call in sick, so Casey took take two and a half days off work. I took a half day that third day so I could give Casey time to get to his office, and I felt rotten that I couldn’t be at home when my girls both wanted me there. But I also didn’t want my boss to think that I’m going to be the kind of employee who hops off at a moment’s notice, so… you know. Lose/lose situation here. My boss was very understanding and couldn’t have been nicer about it, but you know how it is. SECOND WEEK OF WORK.

In any case, I think the job is a good fit for me, and for my family. It’s pretty flexible, so that’s a good thing, and the people I work with are incredibly nice. It’s a small team, and that’s a nice thing, too. I think the girls are adjusting well (G better than A, understandably) and we’re still managing to eat dinner all together every night and get the girls to bed at a reasonable hour. It’s a little crazy, but I’m sure we can make it work.

Speaking of dinner, I’d like to ask you all a few questions about your dinner routines. Until I started work, I cooked every night. Not an exaggeration; I cooked dinner EVERY NIGHT. We rarely eat out; by rarely, I mean maybe once every two months, and that includes getting takeout or pizza or anything. I cooked every weeknight and usually Saturday, and Casey cooked on Sundays (his meals are way better than mine, btw, because he uses a cookbook and goes out to get the fancy ingredients and I’m all “hey! chicken and broccoli stir-fry and a salad! Enjoy!”) Nowadays, Casey gets home before I do and starts the dinner; last night he cooked pounded breaded pork chops and pasta and garlic-sauteed spinach. I am totally ok with this, by the way. I have no problem with being the cleaner-upper (we have a deal – – whoever cooks doesn’t do the clean up) and it seems to be working well so far. So, in your house, how does your family do dinner? Do you take turns cooking? Do takeout? Do crock-pot cooking? Do you eat all together or feed the kids first? Share the secrets, ya’ll.

A Brisk Clap and a Move On

Well! Nothing like completely stepping away from all things internet-esque for, uh, a month or so… we went to my happy place (Pawleys Island) for two weeks and lo! There was no internet and it was AWESOME. If you can escape civilization for any period of time, I highly recommend it. We ate seafood, we sat on the beach, my children both came back with foot injuries… you know, your basic good vacation. So other that the fact that small A is now on both oral and topical antibiotics for TEN DAYS (yes TEN DAYS have you ever tried to give an eighteen month old antibiotics even once let alone three times a day for TEN DAYS sweet fancy bananas you can see why I’m going crazy here right?) we had a lovely time. Also, we drove back from the beach with my mom and then stayed with my parents in Louisiana for five days, which was heavenly, and then my mom drove us all the way back to Austin and stayed for three days and I guess what I’m trying to say is that I did indeed burst into tears when I watched her drive away this past Monday.

However, for a more cheering mental picture, I invite you to feast your eyes upon the sartorial stylings of Miss Georgia. Said outfit was donned for a brisk walk around my parents’ land during which she examined the beehives and turned the compost with my dad. So you can see that the dress was a necessity. OBVIOUSLY.

{note: I think this is her zoolander face.}

Anyway, being with family for so long just reinforced my feeling that I really hate living so far away from my parents. My girls adore them. When we’re all together I run a distant third to G and Bopa, and please believe me when I say I’m not at all offended by this and hey, did you know it’s really nice to be able to eat your whole lunch without someone on your lap? Well, it is. They’re just so great with the girls and they answer all the questions Georgia has that tend to drive me a little batty, and they carry Adele as much as she wants to be carried, and I’m so beyond thrilled that my girls are going to know and love and remember my parents for their whole lives. It really makes me teary to think about it.

Not as teary as I was when my mom drove away, obviously, and not as teary as Adele was when she saw my mom’s car disappearing down the street and let out a piteous wail that I’m sure alarmed many of my neighbors. We’re getting along ok, but man, life is  so nice when my mom is around. I miss her.

{g and the girls on the beach, early morning, low tide}

It’s All Been Done

Sometimes my days have a sense of terrifying sameness. I don’t mean that my days are terrifying… just that some days I genuinely don’t know if it’s Tuesday or Thursday, and on Saturday mornings I sometimes have to be reminded that I don’t need to leap out of bed and make breakfasts and lunches, find socks and shoes,  or change diapers (ok, that still needs to be done on Saturdays.) It’s definitely the strangest part about staying at home with Adele, and the part that I miss the most about my old job. I know that referring to The Workplace is somewhat verboten on the internet, but I worked at a pretty unique place. It had its red tape, of course, as all jobs do, but the interactions I had with my coworkers and our constituents pretty much made every day different. I MISS interactions. I miss talking with adults regularly. I miss working for an organization that made a difference and where I got to do really unusual and unique things. (I know, I know, why mention the unusual and exciting if I can’t talk about it? I guess I don’t want to break the cardinal rule of blogging, should I ever want go back to work at that same org.)

But I’ve also had both sides of the coin now. I went back to work full time when G was three months old and it SUCKED. I was a total wreck. I have no idea how Casey lived with me during that time; I could barely live with myself. I cried all the time. I made it through the workdays just fine, but I totally fell apart every night when I got home. My difficulty with that situation was what really helped us decide that I should stay home when A was born, though it was a stretch at first and hasn’t been the easiest thing financially.

We’re visiting a preschool next week to see where Adele will be going in September. And you know what? I’m ready for it this time. I won’t have the difficulties I had going back to work before, because I’ve been there already, and I know what to expect.

Plus, I have this to come home to, no matter what happens.

a running fool

When Georgia was seven months old, I started training for my first half marathon. I gained a lot of weight with both pregnancies; I’m not one of those people who just has a belly. I’m one of those “my hair looks pregnant” kind of people. And this isn’t something that especially bothers me, even though looking at photos from my baby shower kind of makes me cringe. (My ELBOWS looked pregnant, seriously.) I had never been a runner before, but my husband is and has been since high school. He runs to let off steam, to exercise and to have fun, and he always comes back from a run in such a great mood. I was a competitive swimmer for a long time, but that just wasn’t in the exercise cards (lack of pool being a primary reason) and so I started running. I didn’t really enjoy it, per se, and so I needed a goal… a tangible, attainable goal that would make me lace up my shoes and get out the door every day. I signed up for Austin’s 3M Half, which, in addition to being an entirely downhill course (woot!), has the reputation of having one of the awesomest swag bags ever. Just to give you an indication of what is in said bag, let’s remember that this is the 3M Half Marathon. I will never need to buy tape, post-it notes or paper clips ever again. But I do anyway, because I love office products. I know. Weird.

I trained really hard for that race, and it was due to my husband and his support and his training diligence that I finished, and finished well. I was so happy with my time and I had such a great time during the race. That was in January of 2007. So in June, I committed to run the New York Marathon that November. Casey trained me for that too; every day, we got home from work and school, loaded G into the jogger, and ran. Every single day. (Except Mondays. Mondays are hard enough as it is.) We did our long runs on the weekend, and as the distances progressed we started getting babysitters, because G was getting really bored on runs that lasted more than an hour and a half (SO DID I but that’s not what this is about.)

We ran and ran and ran and I felt so ready for the race. However, October was always my busiest work month, and I came off our Longest Work Weekend (think: no sleep, demanding people, unhealthy food) exactly one week before my flight to NYC. And I got sick. as. a dog. So, so sick. No breathing through my nose, achy joints, stuffy head sick. And I made a decision that horrified my parents and surprised even me… I ran that race anyway. And it was awesome. It took me longer than I had hoped, but while I was on that course, I felt like nothing could stop me.

I felt like hell the next day and it basically took me about seven weeks to get well again, but I’m still not sorry I did it. And that’s why I’m so anxiously awaiting the middle of this month… because I’ll find out if I got in to this year’s NYC marathon lottery. And if I do? I’m going to train like hell and be WELL this time.