My mom was talking to me on the phone yesterday and she asked what it was like to start this week by not going into work. I told her it felt wonderful but at the same time it was like I was forgetting to do something. It's an odd feeling, to not have to BE anywhere. One of my classes is finished for the semester and the other one is online so I don't have to be back in a classroom until the second week in May and until then . . . ho hum, diddle dee. I suppose I'll sweep the floors and play with the kids and read some history and RELISH EVERY SECOND OF NOT HAVING TO WORK!
The major drawback is, of course, not getting paid anything anymore. So there's that added guilt of wanting to get a pedicure this week and then wanting to show off those freshly polished toes in a new pair of taupe heeled sandals, which I've been eyeing online. I'm sadly up a few pounds and after dropping those in (hopefully) a couple weeks or so, I'd like to get a new pair of jeans. Or shorts. Or AND shorts. Unfortunately, I'm not actually contributing to the family bank account anymore so either I take some of the tax return and treat myself and play dumb (and sneaky) or . . . I owe Jeff some "favors". And no, I'm not above that.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Unemployed
I quit my job. I walked into Dysfunction Junction one sunny day and gave my notice, telling them that I was making school my focus and I just wouldn't have the time to devote to work anymore. They were sad to see me go, but not angry, and offered me a place to come back to if I ever wanted to. Now it is Sunday evening and I don't have that grudgy feeling in the pit of my stomach. You know what I'm talking about.
I prayed for it. For the moment. For when Jeff would say, "Yeah, Jenny, we can swing this". For not spending my hours in a place that I didn't want to be. Now, for the first time my hours at school will be spent on a specific matter that I've invested myself in. I'm working towards a career and not a job. I'm so filled with purpose right now that it's a surprisingly easy feeling to incorporate into my life. I'm happier spending time with the kids, more patient as a tackle whatever incredibly important thing that they need me to at the moment, knowing that all my time will be distributed between things that I WANT it to be.
It's funny looking back on all the wants I've wanted this past year. There were some job opportunities I prayed for (begged God for is more like it) that didn't pan out. Now I see why. I wouldn't have been able to have those jobs and go to school. It's like I say "A-ha!" and a voice says "see?".
So I quit my job. Ever the Jenny I of course took off two weeks before summer semester starts. I need to have a little time off. Right?
I prayed for it. For the moment. For when Jeff would say, "Yeah, Jenny, we can swing this". For not spending my hours in a place that I didn't want to be. Now, for the first time my hours at school will be spent on a specific matter that I've invested myself in. I'm working towards a career and not a job. I'm so filled with purpose right now that it's a surprisingly easy feeling to incorporate into my life. I'm happier spending time with the kids, more patient as a tackle whatever incredibly important thing that they need me to at the moment, knowing that all my time will be distributed between things that I WANT it to be.
It's funny looking back on all the wants I've wanted this past year. There were some job opportunities I prayed for (begged God for is more like it) that didn't pan out. Now I see why. I wouldn't have been able to have those jobs and go to school. It's like I say "A-ha!" and a voice says "see?".
So I quit my job. Ever the Jenny I of course took off two weeks before summer semester starts. I need to have a little time off. Right?
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Throw your hands in air, say oh-yayer
The past three years or so have been hard. We sold the house we loved and moved across the state. Since then we’ve had to live in places we didn’t want to and take jobs that we didn’t like. We were “past” those places, but forced to still exist in them. James was born in the midst of all this and the one bright and shining reason why I wouldn’t want to just entirely block the past three years out of my life.
And suddenly, the sun is shining. Everything is so bright that it’s like a straight blessing directed at us, showing us that good things come to those who wait, those who pray, those who have faith.
We live in this incredible house that’s already more than that, it’s already our home.
Jeff got a new job. It pays more money, he enjoys it more and he’ll have every weekend off.
I’m still at my job (still waiting on a miracle there) but something even better has happened. I got accepted into the nursing program. One out of 110 accepted out of 1000 that applied.
We have money in the bank. And clothes on our back. And plenty of food in the fridge. And finally, something shiny in the future.
Happy happy joy joy! (Ren and Stimpy throwback.)
And suddenly, the sun is shining. Everything is so bright that it’s like a straight blessing directed at us, showing us that good things come to those who wait, those who pray, those who have faith.
We live in this incredible house that’s already more than that, it’s already our home.
Jeff got a new job. It pays more money, he enjoys it more and he’ll have every weekend off.
I’m still at my job (still waiting on a miracle there) but something even better has happened. I got accepted into the nursing program. One out of 110 accepted out of 1000 that applied.
We have money in the bank. And clothes on our back. And plenty of food in the fridge. And finally, something shiny in the future.
Happy happy joy joy! (Ren and Stimpy throwback.)
Saturday, January 9, 2010
A Resolution
Right now I am drinking coffee, cozied in my completely pilled-up grandma-ish type sweater, and in my office! Or computer room, or the room where everything has gone that doesn’t yet have a place (hence a frightening mound of blinds that seems sort of dangerous to walk around). This room has a giant window that looks out towards farmland and right now it shows a world covered with snow. Here in the south, snow is quite infrequent so its arrival is A Very Big Deal. There is non-stop news footage of flurries, announcements of school closings before anything is even sticking, but I’m all for it. I missed work yesterday for the snow and ended up spending half of the day in my pajamas getting caught up with my television habits and apparently that was exhausting enough a task to warrant a two hour nap with James later. I am ashamed of my laziness.
:::
So, nine days into the new year and I’m finally going to write a few words about it. I am not a resolutions type of person really. I make wide generalizations that leave much room for interpretation or error, things like “be a better person” which, really, is rather silly. Does that mean to give to the homeless or not yell as much or do twenty more sit-ups? I don’t know. So I got a little more specific this year.
You see, there are things about my life that I don’t really like, even though I love my life. I don’t like having to work, obviously, and I don’t like the struggles with money and the predictable pitfalls of having both cars suddenly give out or some other technical difficulty that really screws with day-to-day life. However, I can deal with all that. I can make the best of it. What really bothers me at those moments where I get all mopey and melancholy is how I’ve spent my time. I see other people (or read about them) who have work and kids also but also spend time devoted to fitness, or some other hobby. Women who actually make real dinners and go shopping for bargains and read books and throw parties. Women who take their kids to the park, museum, restaurants, home to make crafts. Women who take the time to WRITE.
I suppose my resolution is this – take the time, or make the time, for the things I love. Stop doing just enough to muddle through the day, stop doing just enough to keep up with the house, keep the kids fed and clean and then the day is over. Do more, or do it better, or whatever it may be.
:::
So, nine days into the new year and I’m finally going to write a few words about it. I am not a resolutions type of person really. I make wide generalizations that leave much room for interpretation or error, things like “be a better person” which, really, is rather silly. Does that mean to give to the homeless or not yell as much or do twenty more sit-ups? I don’t know. So I got a little more specific this year.
You see, there are things about my life that I don’t really like, even though I love my life. I don’t like having to work, obviously, and I don’t like the struggles with money and the predictable pitfalls of having both cars suddenly give out or some other technical difficulty that really screws with day-to-day life. However, I can deal with all that. I can make the best of it. What really bothers me at those moments where I get all mopey and melancholy is how I’ve spent my time. I see other people (or read about them) who have work and kids also but also spend time devoted to fitness, or some other hobby. Women who actually make real dinners and go shopping for bargains and read books and throw parties. Women who take their kids to the park, museum, restaurants, home to make crafts. Women who take the time to WRITE.
I suppose my resolution is this – take the time, or make the time, for the things I love. Stop doing just enough to muddle through the day, stop doing just enough to keep up with the house, keep the kids fed and clean and then the day is over. Do more, or do it better, or whatever it may be.
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Instead of here . . .
What I've been doing besides updating my blawg:
* Celebrated my daughter's fourth birthday. Faith is amazing. I know she's mine so I may be a bit biased, but I think she's pretty damn smart, that one. She's such a character, she's physically endearing and her heart is big and sweet enough to make up a little for her short and hot temper. She loved her birthday, the attention, the presents, the cake, the poofy dresses she wore for days.
* Celebrated my thirtieth birthday. 30. I AM 30. It is hard to believe. I didn't do much, just . . . turned older.
* Decided to go back to school, more specifically nursing school, started going through the motions and realized the school I am applying at is very good and very competitive. So I stressed out, lurked on forums about the process of applying to said school, stressed some more, took tests, submitted all sorts of senseless yet expensive forms and now I wait until April to know their decision. In the meantime, I'll be taking more pre-requisite classes starting next week. I am not yet registered. I have no idea what classes I will take or when. It's exciting to not know! (Not)
* Decided that, you know what? I kind of don't like my job. Also, I heard that a really good job may be opening up where my cousin-in-law works. I sent my resume and now am waiting on pins and needles. Pray for me.
* Finished the house and moved in it. And am still moving. Every day. We had a lot of stuff. It's beautiful and spacious and wonderful and awesome and I love it and I rolled around on the floors and galloped down the hallways and put out my arms and twirled because I had room! So much space! Fun fact about larger houses - you might get yourself worked up at night at all the places a creepy murderer stalker could hide. There is a lot of them. Besides that, I love having a home again.
* Christmas, duh. It was sweet and fun setting up the Christmas scene for the morning when the kids would come downstairs. They had appropriate looks of joy and delight at their presents (a ride-able train for James, bike for Faith) that were waiting unwrapped under the tree. It was a day of happiness and wrapping paper littering every inch of the ground and broken ornaments and loud toys and not so loud toys that lethally waited for a tender foot to step on them and also some strange monk-type of Christmas music that Jeff just turned on for background noise and I think it was starting to brainwash me.
* Catching up on all my bloggy world obsessions since I've been without internet for way too long. Missed you all!
* Celebrated my daughter's fourth birthday. Faith is amazing. I know she's mine so I may be a bit biased, but I think she's pretty damn smart, that one. She's such a character, she's physically endearing and her heart is big and sweet enough to make up a little for her short and hot temper. She loved her birthday, the attention, the presents, the cake, the poofy dresses she wore for days.
* Celebrated my thirtieth birthday. 30. I AM 30. It is hard to believe. I didn't do much, just . . . turned older.
* Decided to go back to school, more specifically nursing school, started going through the motions and realized the school I am applying at is very good and very competitive. So I stressed out, lurked on forums about the process of applying to said school, stressed some more, took tests, submitted all sorts of senseless yet expensive forms and now I wait until April to know their decision. In the meantime, I'll be taking more pre-requisite classes starting next week. I am not yet registered. I have no idea what classes I will take or when. It's exciting to not know! (Not)
* Decided that, you know what? I kind of don't like my job. Also, I heard that a really good job may be opening up where my cousin-in-law works. I sent my resume and now am waiting on pins and needles. Pray for me.
* Finished the house and moved in it. And am still moving. Every day. We had a lot of stuff. It's beautiful and spacious and wonderful and awesome and I love it and I rolled around on the floors and galloped down the hallways and put out my arms and twirled because I had room! So much space! Fun fact about larger houses - you might get yourself worked up at night at all the places a creepy murderer stalker could hide. There is a lot of them. Besides that, I love having a home again.
* Christmas, duh. It was sweet and fun setting up the Christmas scene for the morning when the kids would come downstairs. They had appropriate looks of joy and delight at their presents (a ride-able train for James, bike for Faith) that were waiting unwrapped under the tree. It was a day of happiness and wrapping paper littering every inch of the ground and broken ornaments and loud toys and not so loud toys that lethally waited for a tender foot to step on them and also some strange monk-type of Christmas music that Jeff just turned on for background noise and I think it was starting to brainwash me.
* Catching up on all my bloggy world obsessions since I've been without internet for way too long. Missed you all!
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
On Your Son's Second Birthday
On your son’s second birthday you wake up when the alarm goes off, too early as always. Your head is still fighting for rapidly diminishing dreams, not enough rest absorbed. You remember being awake at midnight, with your book in your hand, waiting for the melatonin to kick in and knock you out. You hit snooze 1 or 4 times before forcing yourself out of bed, shuffling to the kitchen where you say a silent thank you to your husband for brewing coffee before he went to bed only an hour before.
You sit on the couch and sip, waiting for reality to set in, for your senses to catch up to your motions. Your daughter walks in, crawls onto your lap and falls back asleep. Your son, the birthday boy, soon follows, and by this time you are percolated enough to make breakfast for them and start sing-songy verses about birthdays and all sorts of wonderful things.
It’s time for clothes and makeup. Well, hell, just twist your hair up into a low bun because it really should have been washed this morning, but you didn’t get out of bed early enough, did you?
Off to work, the place you so lovingly named “Dysfunction Junction”. Your boss cries, you awkwardly try to continue doing your work. You light out of there two minutes early without guilt. Buy paper plates, a scented candle, and some lip gloss that turns out to be disappointingly orange.
Then off to see the concrete being poured for your driveway and some strange men as well as relatives working already several hours into hard labor. Look just long enough and then tuck your glossily most pointedly un-sweaty and orange-lipped self back into your vehicle and go to pick up your daughter from pre-school.
They tell you that she was flushed and warm earlier, keep an eye on her. Off to the supermarket because you just spoke to your mother-in-law who told you to pick up some ice cream and a prescription for your husband’s grandmother. Your daughter throws a fit over Oreos, sits down in the middle of the grocery store. Try to maintain proper balance of patience as well as discipline. Go home, wrap presents, change clothes, go next door where the future party waits.
Small talk, laughter, obligatory complaining about jobs-health problems-family members that are not present. Pizza arrives, chow down. Call husband, when will he be home? Wait. Wait. Wait. Son starts throwing self on ground, making highly unpleasant screeching sounds. Call husband, “when will you be here? Cake needs to be cut!”
Husband, weary, “Go ahead without me”.
So you go ahead, wishing your husband were here to see his son blow out the two candles on his birthday cake, to see the smile that can’t stay hidden when all the attention is on him, to see him tear open his presents and greet each one with unrestricted enthusiasm.
But it happens, and you smile, because you can’t restrain it, and everyone is laughing, and everyone is glad to be there on a Wednesday night, eating cake and celebrating life.
You sit on the couch and sip, waiting for reality to set in, for your senses to catch up to your motions. Your daughter walks in, crawls onto your lap and falls back asleep. Your son, the birthday boy, soon follows, and by this time you are percolated enough to make breakfast for them and start sing-songy verses about birthdays and all sorts of wonderful things.
It’s time for clothes and makeup. Well, hell, just twist your hair up into a low bun because it really should have been washed this morning, but you didn’t get out of bed early enough, did you?
Off to work, the place you so lovingly named “Dysfunction Junction”. Your boss cries, you awkwardly try to continue doing your work. You light out of there two minutes early without guilt. Buy paper plates, a scented candle, and some lip gloss that turns out to be disappointingly orange.
Then off to see the concrete being poured for your driveway and some strange men as well as relatives working already several hours into hard labor. Look just long enough and then tuck your glossily most pointedly un-sweaty and orange-lipped self back into your vehicle and go to pick up your daughter from pre-school.
They tell you that she was flushed and warm earlier, keep an eye on her. Off to the supermarket because you just spoke to your mother-in-law who told you to pick up some ice cream and a prescription for your husband’s grandmother. Your daughter throws a fit over Oreos, sits down in the middle of the grocery store. Try to maintain proper balance of patience as well as discipline. Go home, wrap presents, change clothes, go next door where the future party waits.
Small talk, laughter, obligatory complaining about jobs-health problems-family members that are not present. Pizza arrives, chow down. Call husband, when will he be home? Wait. Wait. Wait. Son starts throwing self on ground, making highly unpleasant screeching sounds. Call husband, “when will you be here? Cake needs to be cut!”
Husband, weary, “Go ahead without me”.
So you go ahead, wishing your husband were here to see his son blow out the two candles on his birthday cake, to see the smile that can’t stay hidden when all the attention is on him, to see him tear open his presents and greet each one with unrestricted enthusiasm.
But it happens, and you smile, because you can’t restrain it, and everyone is laughing, and everyone is glad to be there on a Wednesday night, eating cake and celebrating life.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
What Dreams are Made of
One of the things I find myself constantly repeating stupidly when talking about trailer life is “It’s not that bad,” which, when I think about it, is a really lame comment. Not that bad compared to what exactly? A third world prison? A mansion? The falling down house in town which seems to somehow magically hold an entire family? My point of reference for this comment is somewhat hazy, so it usually just slides by, but for some reason I feel the need to throw that out there. Yes, I am staying in this trailer on my husband’s land, yes it is temporary, yes it sucks, yes most of the doorknobs are plastic. But! It’s not THAT bad!
Well, truth be told, I must have some uppity snob somewhere inside of me because, yeah, sometimes it kind of is that bad. Thankfully, we’ve had a house to look forward to moving into despite the building process inching along. If we didn’t have a light at the end of the tunnel, I would probably be a lot more morose about this whole temporary tub of tin situation.
So that’s a reason I haven’t written too much lately because my mind is on two channels, one being HOUSE HOUSE HOUSE HOUSE and the other being WHY WON’T THE KIDS STOP TALKING/WHINING/FIGHTING FOR FIVE SECONDS SO I CAN READ A BOOK OR EAT A MEAL OR TAKE A SHOWER OR JUST STARE OFF INTO THE DISTANCE AND THINK ABOUT THE HOUSE.
It’s true. I’ve a one track mind lately. The house is so near to completion that I can almost taste the joy of living there, of bounding on my new carpet with bare feet, of being on a whole different floor than the kids, of opening a cabinet without a shower of Tupperware falling on my head.
And, in a completely shocking twist of feeling, I am going to miss this little pile of crap that is currently our home. I’ll miss being next door to my in-laws, of seeing cows and horses meandering up to our fence, of walking down to our garden when I want to make okra for dinner.
Ha! Who am I kidding? There is a mouse family under the cabinet in the kids bathroom and a strange and mysterious odor coming from the access door to the plumbing. I am DONE with this place!
On pins and needles waiting for the house, the house, the house . . .
Well, truth be told, I must have some uppity snob somewhere inside of me because, yeah, sometimes it kind of is that bad. Thankfully, we’ve had a house to look forward to moving into despite the building process inching along. If we didn’t have a light at the end of the tunnel, I would probably be a lot more morose about this whole temporary tub of tin situation.
So that’s a reason I haven’t written too much lately because my mind is on two channels, one being HOUSE HOUSE HOUSE HOUSE and the other being WHY WON’T THE KIDS STOP TALKING/WHINING/FIGHTING FOR FIVE SECONDS SO I CAN READ A BOOK OR EAT A MEAL OR TAKE A SHOWER OR JUST STARE OFF INTO THE DISTANCE AND THINK ABOUT THE HOUSE.
It’s true. I’ve a one track mind lately. The house is so near to completion that I can almost taste the joy of living there, of bounding on my new carpet with bare feet, of being on a whole different floor than the kids, of opening a cabinet without a shower of Tupperware falling on my head.
And, in a completely shocking twist of feeling, I am going to miss this little pile of crap that is currently our home. I’ll miss being next door to my in-laws, of seeing cows and horses meandering up to our fence, of walking down to our garden when I want to make okra for dinner.
Ha! Who am I kidding? There is a mouse family under the cabinet in the kids bathroom and a strange and mysterious odor coming from the access door to the plumbing. I am DONE with this place!
On pins and needles waiting for the house, the house, the house . . .
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