That Backbone of Mine

Remember my quest to grow a backbone?  Well, I'm making progress, but not exactly in the fashion I imagined.

I quit.  With no notice, nothing.  Just quit.  I had had enough.  More than enough, actually.

I don't want to get into too many details, since this is public, after all, but here I am, unemployed again.  I don't feel so lost this time, though.  There are a few directions I can go in, and some actual jobs that I qualify for.  I want to do Physician's Assistant school.  I will find a way, somehow.  Julio is more than supportive, and I love him for it.  Missy sent me flowers and a congratulations.  Everybody is happy for me.  I will be, too.

Now, I must wrest myself from the computer and go DO.  I have jobs to apply for, schools to research, and a house to clean.  My vacuum needs exercising.  I guess I do, too.

and...one more time

It's a new year and a new chance.  Right?  I get a second chance at this blogging thing?  You know, with actual posting of actual ideas and thoughts and shit?  If I have any of those, that is.

So.  Not much has happened since my last post, and I haven't been able to think beyond tomorrow and how we're going to eat and survive.  I spend each minute trying not to fall apart and wrestling with that knot in my stomach which so far, I haven't untied.  

It might be looser.  I may be closer.

We are losing the house.  We can't find jobs here, we can't make mortgage, and we owe more than the house is currently worth.  We are signing with a realtor and hoping for a short sale which should leave us clean and avoid foreclosure.  And if we have to foreclose, we foreclose.  Being a grown-up sucks donkey balls. (Grown-ups are allowed to use that phrase still, right?  Please tell me grown-ups are still allowed to use that phrase, because if not, I give up right now.  Yes?  Good.  Continue on.)

We're planning on a move.  Two possibilities, one more likely than the other.  It is scary, thinking of starting over again, this time with a child.  I want things to be perfect, right here, right now.  But they aren't.  There are problems beyond just the job thing.  It isn't like a move will leave all the troubles here behind us, but there are advantages to the new location that might help.  

There is the possibility of school.  I'm hoping to go to nursing school sometime in the next two years.  I've been waiting for my vocation since I graduated undergrad, and just haven't felt it.  Nothing seemed right, nothing called to me, so I remained stuck in my mundane, go-nowhere job letting life slip me by.  I think I've finally found it, though.  I've heard the voice telling me that this is my path.  

So.  I guess this post doesn't qualify as thoughts and ideas so much as catch up.  I'll get there, I promise.  Right now, I just need to keep on swimming, keep on swimming.  Even if that swimming doesn't seem like much, it just might take me where I need to go.

A Dichotomy

It feels cruel.  To finally have the job I've always wanted, constantly yearned for, yet be searching determinedly for something else.  

I'm a parent.  From now until forever I'll be a full-time mom.  No matter where I am or how far apart we are, SHE will be in my heart, my thoughts, my every cell.  My daughter.  It is no secret that I'm job-searching.  Grasping at straws in this cut-and-downsize economy begging someone, anyone, to pay me.  Perhaps offer me benefits.  Direct deposit.  That sort of thing.  

The part that is hard, though, is that I already have the job that I've dreamt of for so long.  I know I'll be a full-time mom always, no matter what, no matter if I'm being paid by another job.  But actually being a full-time at home stay-at-home mom suits me just fine.  If I could lose the worry and fear and dread somewhere along the way, this would be exactly how I choose to live my life.  

Only I don't get to choose.  I have to get up every morning and search like hell for the opportunity that will take me away from this heaven.  I hope and pray and cry for the chance to have my heart break in a million little pieces every day, to pay someone else to be there for my daughter's moments, to wipe her tears, to feed her lunch.

I've got to put these thoughts out.  I've got to make me peace with working full-time AND mothering full-time.  Happiness will be there in that balance, if I can find it.  

October 31

Holy Shit. Tomorrow is November.

November is the month I don't have a job.

Wait, scratch that. I DO have a job. Just not a paycheck.

I have a job being a mom. I have a job searching for a job (which is a full-time job in itself, and if I say job one more time in this sentence job I get a cookie JOB. Yay. I win)

I go from being all non-chalant and things will work out and this too shall pass and life is an adventure to ohmygodinheaven, I have a baby and no insurance and no way to pay mortgage and we're in an economic crisis in this country and no one will ever hire me and even if they do and they hire my husband too how the hell will we afford daycare and mortgage all at the same time on two little measly incomes?

Yes, all of that.

I had a dream last night that made me tired. I don't remember all of it, but I specifically remember searching for a pair of shoes that I knew were here somewhere and I NEEDED but could not find. I remember crossing a street a lot. I remember being nervous.
So, I woke up nervous and tired and feeling like I already had a full day, how is it possibly time to wake up yet?

Not only is this the last day before November (holy shit holy shit holy shit), it is Halloween. I have the cutest little mouse waiting for me at home. She'll have whiskers and a tail and a cute little button black nose.

Not only is this the last day before November (holy shit holy shit holy shit) and not only is it Halloween, it is our good friend's birthday. So, we have a sitter, and we're all dressing up as Andy. I've got my fabulous scarf and polo shirt all ready to go.

November is coming, ready or not, but I've got the good life, yes I do.

Done

And...it's done. I signed. As of November 3rd, I will no longer be employed.

I am amazed at how non-scared I feel. How I know this is the right decision.

Life is looking up, folks.

Except for my dog. Dude, he's got gas. Give an allergic dog fish oil and predisnone and see what happens. It doesn't sound, or smell, pretty.

Give me Sleep or Give me Death.

Since when do 1 year olds not sleep through the night?

Seriously, I thought this night-waking would stop at some point. So far, it seems I am doomed to years of not sleeping.

I finally decided to suck it up and no longer nurse Sofia at night. She demands it and screams for it and it is not the way I'd like to nurse, so I'm refusing. I always thought I'd be the "don't offer, don't refuse" kind of mom. Just another example of how your kid changes your plan, I guess. So, we cry at night instead. The crying length is getting shorter, so I'm trying to be heartened. I don't have it in me to just let her cry, so I hold her and cuddle her instead. One step at a time, right? We have a sippy of water in her crib in case she is thirsty and I'm trying to explain to her during the day as well that we don't nurse when she screams for it.

Yet, we're still waking twice a night. At least. This is not helping my plan to wake up early in the morning, work out and be out the door before 8:30. Sometimes I'm lucky to be out of bed by then.

Who knew that lack of sleep could be this important? I know I went with far less during college.

I also fell asleep behind the wheel once and tended to fall asleep during class, so I guess that isn't sayin' much.

Anyway, besides refusing to let her mama and papa get a full night's sleep in, my toddler is continuing to charm me. She's so funny. She likes animal crackers, and will take one in her chubby little hand, walk off with it, feed it to the dog, then come complaining to me that Polar ate her cookie. Stinker.
The child loves accessories. She walks around the house with a little purse around her neck, carrying her shoes. She's got a costume jewelery necklace that she loves. How am I going to afford her teenage years? I foresee a lot of babysitting in her future paying for handbags and earrings.

Job hunt still on. Trying not to let the fear consume me. Trying to move on. Sometimes is easier than others.

So, it is almost official. I told my boss that I am leaving. Papers still need signing, but for all purposes, it is done.

I'm terrified. What have I done? Left my family with no income? And I gambling my daughter's well being for my own selfish reasons? Will we make it through this?

I'm relieved. Living life means taking risks, and I want to live my life again, not just be in it. I want to live deliberately, do what I want, find who I am. I can't do that here. I'm showing my daughter that she deserves the right to find out what makes her go, to change when things are working, to be fully present in her life. I need to lead by example.

I'm scared, but optimistic. I've already signed up to volunteer on November 4th, getting out the vote. Never before have I been so certain in our need for President Obama. When you are faced with the prospect of no health insurance and no income, it would help to know that there is a government behind you who wants to help. Something there to catch your fall and help you get back up.

Now, I need to go dust off that interview suit and find the courage that I know I have somewhere around here.

Getting Up

Okay, I'm getting on my feet and standing up.
I've got my resume mostly done.
I have a few jobs I can apply for.
I have several contacts that I can network with, hopefully leading to a job.

I haven't been happy at this job for awhile, now. I wrote something months ago that I want to share here:
My heart hurts. It is never where it wants to be, where it should be. My heart is in a constant three-way tug-of-war with my brain and reality and it never seems to win. Too many shoulds and have tos must do nows to leave room for silly things like dreams, creating, loving. Naivety. How I wish it was reality. I wish I could just live my life, live it like I want to. There’s always a tether holding me to reality whenever my feet think of leaving the floor. Money. I can’t do what I want to without money. I can’t have money without work. I can’t do what I want to and work at the same time. A circle the tortures me. I see pictures—my happy, smiling baby. The tiny newborn pictures make way for the sitting, standing pictures. They frame my desk, my wall, are etched on my heart. My soul longs for the comfort of her touch, the stickiness of her hands, the fullness of her laughter. I want to take walks, go to the playground, plant a garden. I want to do laundry, play peek-a-boo, pet the dog. I want to talk in babbles, teach ABCs and splash in rain puddles. I want crafts and colors, messes and baths, dancing and battles of wills. I want to learn to sew with her, to teach her to play piano, to just BE.
Instead, I labor over spreadsheets. I discover problems and create problems. I curse at my computer screen. I yearn for five o’clock so I can go home and begin my day. My life is lived between 5 and 10 pm on weekdays and on weekends. Seems like a lot of hours to be only existing, yet not really living.

I'm going to use this as an opportunity. An opportunity to get off my butt and take a risk. It is making me take a risk. I'll get a job, any job, I don't care, and keep looking for what I really want to do, what will make me happy at home AND at work. Maybe I'll go so school, maybe I'll figure out exactly who I am and what my place is in this world.I have friends. I have family. I am cared for and loved. We won't starve, and even in the worst case scenario, we won't be homeless. Life will move on. I will move on, and be better for it.

Yeah, this has not been a good month

Can we get a do-over?  Just the from Setember 15 until now, please.  Can you manage that, universe?  

No?  Well, damn.  Then help me figure out this mess of crap you've piled in my lap, okay?  

Apparently, my job doesn't think my family and the life of my husband is more important that my continued productivity.  As you can imagine, I've been a bit preoccupied.  Productive isn't a word I'd use to describe me right now.  So, I'm being let go.  For real.  No job.  That means there are two of us, both healing, both hurting, and not a single job.  No health insurance.  

I'm scared.  I'm humiliated.  I feel defeated.  

I haven't been the world's best employee.  There are things I'd change.  I know that.  I made mistakes.  But the lack of empathy for a person and their real-person life from my company just hurts.  I've been there over three years.  I've done good work.  

Seriously, about that do-over?  Can you think about it again, universe?