So, I know a lot of women want to work outside the home and be "equals" with their husbands and all that stuff. I am not one of them. I love the thought of being a homemaker and eventually being there for every minute of our children's lives and making our house into a home so my husband can get off work and relax. I'm not very good at that, but I love the idea of it.
However, we've accrued quite a bit of debt over the last couple of years of my husband not working his dream job and working retail instead. So, not only to help pay the bills, but also to help pay off some of this load, I need a job.
This is the first time I've really had to look for one. All the others have sort of just plopped in my lap. Needless to say, it's making me feel sort of younger than I am and out-of-my-element as I go around looking for an office job. I have an interview this afternoon for an office assistant position at a pediatric clinic. I really don't know all the details, but a friend from church called to make sure I got the interview, so in I'll go.
Part of me is sad that I might not be staying home as much anymore, crafting and doing the dishes everyday and having time to go hang out at the yarn shop. The other part of me is so glad to know that maybe, just maybe, I won't have to worry quite so much how to get everything paid this next month.
Don't get me wrong, I'm still doing my direct-sales job. And I am going to be teaching a couple of crochet classes at the yarn shop if I can figure out the times. But to have an income that is steady and I can rely on . . . that will be something that hasn't really happened in over five years.
So, if you want to pray for something today, please pray for me as I fight this inner-war and as I face this job interview.
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Late Night Tears and Tea
I'm up late tonight . . . well, later than usual. My sleep schedule has gotten off some lately with me still looking for and not finding a job. I'm getting lots of crafting done, but not much money made to help with the huge stack of bills which never cease to come. Anyway, I'm up late tonight because my body couldn't take it anymore and it finally gave in for a good cry. It'd been building up for a couple weeks now. With my hormones all wacky from birth-control pills again, and my feeling sort of useless without having a job, and a few other things, plus my allergy-induced asthma attack earlier tonight, the tears just wouldn't stay away.
So, I'm sitting here, feeling the bleary-eyed-ness that comes with crying (why does moisture dry your eyes?) and drinking a mug of peppermint tea until I can settle down enough to go back to bed and try to get some rest. And you get to benefit from it by having this post.
We went to my parents' home over the weekend, as I've mentioned before, and while we were there, some friends of my family also came to visit (they try to come each year that weekend for the singing at the congregation my Dad preaches at). One of those friends is a lady in her early 70s who is now taking care of her great-granddaughter (full-custody) because her granddaughter got knocked up by who knows who and then didn't feel like taking care of the child when she was born. She's ten months old and a doll. Everyone loved on her and played with her and gave her lots of attention over the weekend. I ended up holding her through services Sunday morning and afterwards paid the consequences for that -- several came up asking if it was my baby . . . and telling me I looked very natural. Normal people would probably take that as a compliment. For me, it was one more prick to my already broken heart over the subject. And I never realized how much it would hurt to see my parents holding and playing with a baby. I know they want grandchildren so badly and they've been SO good about not pushing us or asking too many questions . . . or mentioning out loud how much they wish we didn't have fertility problems so they could be grandparents like their brothers and sisters are. I know there's no answer to this, but why is it fair that an eighteen year old girl who doesn't even know who she slept with and considers marijuana an "herb," can get pregnant and have a beautiful, perfect little girl when I can't even have a regular period?
And something else hit me lately, too. I've overheard my Dad mention in passing once or twice now that my sister is getting a bit antsy to settle down so they can maybe start thinking of having kids, too. I haven't heard this from her, but it makes sense. They've been married two and a half years now. And they don't know if they'll have issues, too, or not. I'm wondering, though, if part of what has held her back this long (not all, mind you, just part) is that she doesn't want me to be mad at her for having kids first. And as much as I long to be the first to give my parents a grandchild, can I really deny my siblings the right to have kids now that they're both married? Am I really that selfish?
It all just compounded tonight into my tears. So, now to finish my tea, and maybe read some more cheerful blogs by my friends who have kids, and go to bed . . . way too late at night.
So, I'm sitting here, feeling the bleary-eyed-ness that comes with crying (why does moisture dry your eyes?) and drinking a mug of peppermint tea until I can settle down enough to go back to bed and try to get some rest. And you get to benefit from it by having this post.
We went to my parents' home over the weekend, as I've mentioned before, and while we were there, some friends of my family also came to visit (they try to come each year that weekend for the singing at the congregation my Dad preaches at). One of those friends is a lady in her early 70s who is now taking care of her great-granddaughter (full-custody) because her granddaughter got knocked up by who knows who and then didn't feel like taking care of the child when she was born. She's ten months old and a doll. Everyone loved on her and played with her and gave her lots of attention over the weekend. I ended up holding her through services Sunday morning and afterwards paid the consequences for that -- several came up asking if it was my baby . . . and telling me I looked very natural. Normal people would probably take that as a compliment. For me, it was one more prick to my already broken heart over the subject. And I never realized how much it would hurt to see my parents holding and playing with a baby. I know they want grandchildren so badly and they've been SO good about not pushing us or asking too many questions . . . or mentioning out loud how much they wish we didn't have fertility problems so they could be grandparents like their brothers and sisters are. I know there's no answer to this, but why is it fair that an eighteen year old girl who doesn't even know who she slept with and considers marijuana an "herb," can get pregnant and have a beautiful, perfect little girl when I can't even have a regular period?
And something else hit me lately, too. I've overheard my Dad mention in passing once or twice now that my sister is getting a bit antsy to settle down so they can maybe start thinking of having kids, too. I haven't heard this from her, but it makes sense. They've been married two and a half years now. And they don't know if they'll have issues, too, or not. I'm wondering, though, if part of what has held her back this long (not all, mind you, just part) is that she doesn't want me to be mad at her for having kids first. And as much as I long to be the first to give my parents a grandchild, can I really deny my siblings the right to have kids now that they're both married? Am I really that selfish?
It all just compounded tonight into my tears. So, now to finish my tea, and maybe read some more cheerful blogs by my friends who have kids, and go to bed . . . way too late at night.
Friday, October 14, 2011
Reminiscing
So, I was getting a few things together this morning as I get ready to go see my Mom this weekend. See, when we moved from our house to this small apartment, all of the things we've collected over the years don't really fit. Especially since I have a LOT of kitchen stuff and a TINY kitchen right now (see, no storage).
Some of the things, however, are things my Mom has been passing to me over the years we've been married as I got more and more room to store stuff that had been living at her house. I have two huge Rubbermaid tubs of my high school memories (and elementary, for that matter). I was going through them a bit this morning to see if I still wanted to even keep all of it still or could stand to part with some of the memories. There are scrapbooks from high school, including all the newspapers from all four years, plus junior high. There were letters from pen pals, a scrapbook my mom put together of the first six or seven years of my life, my baby book, and all my journals from high school. That's right. From September of 1997 on, I kept a journal. Every day.
I read through a few pages of several of them, reliving the memories, reliving the angst and stress and . . . DRAMA! Please tell me I'm not still that much of a drama queen!
And then I put them back in the tubs, wiping away a tear, and stacked them up to store at my Mom's house a bit longer. I just can't get rid of them yet. I don't want to relive those years by any means, but I don't want to give them up, either. They made me who I am today.
Some of the things, however, are things my Mom has been passing to me over the years we've been married as I got more and more room to store stuff that had been living at her house. I have two huge Rubbermaid tubs of my high school memories (and elementary, for that matter). I was going through them a bit this morning to see if I still wanted to even keep all of it still or could stand to part with some of the memories. There are scrapbooks from high school, including all the newspapers from all four years, plus junior high. There were letters from pen pals, a scrapbook my mom put together of the first six or seven years of my life, my baby book, and all my journals from high school. That's right. From September of 1997 on, I kept a journal. Every day.
I read through a few pages of several of them, reliving the memories, reliving the angst and stress and . . . DRAMA! Please tell me I'm not still that much of a drama queen!
And then I put them back in the tubs, wiping away a tear, and stacked them up to store at my Mom's house a bit longer. I just can't get rid of them yet. I don't want to relive those years by any means, but I don't want to give them up, either. They made me who I am today.
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
The Problem With . . .
. . . moving is that you get asked a lot, "So, do you have any kids?" I know people don't mean to be mean by asking such a simple and innocent questions, but it's starting to get to me.
. . . being on the pill again is that when the end of the pack comes, the hormones go crazy and your moods get manic and your cramps are awful and you start before you're supposed to. Not fun right now.
. . . trying to find an office job after being in a school job for five years is that you don't really know where to start and end up applying to five or six different temp agencies hoping for SOMETHING and thankful that they're nice enough to walk you through a lot of it.
. . . living in Texas is that fall comes, but doesn't REALLY cool off until the end of November so my long-sleeved Halloween shirts are sort of warm right now.
. . . trying to sell a house in this economy is that it's a buyers market and they think EVERYTHING is not good enough.
. . . having a blog is that you can just get on and vent whenever you want to and your poor readers have to put up with it or quit reading (please don't quit reading . . . I need validation -- *laugh*).
. . . being on the pill again is that when the end of the pack comes, the hormones go crazy and your moods get manic and your cramps are awful and you start before you're supposed to. Not fun right now.
. . . trying to find an office job after being in a school job for five years is that you don't really know where to start and end up applying to five or six different temp agencies hoping for SOMETHING and thankful that they're nice enough to walk you through a lot of it.
. . . living in Texas is that fall comes, but doesn't REALLY cool off until the end of November so my long-sleeved Halloween shirts are sort of warm right now.
. . . trying to sell a house in this economy is that it's a buyers market and they think EVERYTHING is not good enough.
. . . having a blog is that you can just get on and vent whenever you want to and your poor readers have to put up with it or quit reading (please don't quit reading . . . I need validation -- *laugh*).
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
Upon the Occasion of Our Move
I think from the title of this blog, I might have read too many Emily Dickinson poems in college.
We finally moved all our things to the new town, into a tiny apartment, two weeks ago. The house has not sold yet. I still haven't found a job. But I just couldn't handle living with someone else any longer. It's not that they weren't absolutely amazing and loving in their care for us. I was just ready to get on with our lives a bit.
So, we found an 809 square foot apartment and moved the stuff from our almost 1300 square foot house into it. Needless to say, I'm still sorting through piles of boxes. It's frustrating that I'm not completely unpacked yet. That bothers me. But at least we're together in our own place again.
Unfortunately, we're also living off money borrowed from my parents as we struggle to make ends meet as I continue my job search. I've contacted one employment agency and will contact a few more today. This is really my first time to have to seriously look for a job. All my other ones have just fallen in my lap. It's a whole new experience for me and I am not really enjoying it. It makes me nervous. The thought of going back to work full-time makes me nervous to tell the truth. It's just not the kind of person I am to want to go work a full-time job. I want to be a homemaker, even if I'm not very good at that, either. I do plan to be better. It's not like we have room for us to not pick up after ourselves here.
We're still trying to find a church home. We've "tried out" about five different congregations up here. I think we've narrowed it down to two. I'm comfortable with either one. Jeremy just can't find that comfort, though. I don't know how to help him. I'm trying not to step on his toes as the leader of our family, but I also want us to go ahead and place membership and get settled so we can start working with the church again and not just be visitors each week.
I've had my first party up here for my direct sales job. It was nice, but I'm trying to get some more on my calendar. Otherwise, I'm never going to get that built up enough to be my full-time job in the future.
That's our life right now. There's probably a few more things I'm leaving out -- like the fact that our cats are still living with my mom until we can afford to have them again (and we're missing their loud mouths and purrs). It's just getting settled, making friends, meeting new people, and trying new things. Not easy things really, but not terribly hard. I'm just ready to not be in transition anymore.
We finally moved all our things to the new town, into a tiny apartment, two weeks ago. The house has not sold yet. I still haven't found a job. But I just couldn't handle living with someone else any longer. It's not that they weren't absolutely amazing and loving in their care for us. I was just ready to get on with our lives a bit.
So, we found an 809 square foot apartment and moved the stuff from our almost 1300 square foot house into it. Needless to say, I'm still sorting through piles of boxes. It's frustrating that I'm not completely unpacked yet. That bothers me. But at least we're together in our own place again.
Unfortunately, we're also living off money borrowed from my parents as we struggle to make ends meet as I continue my job search. I've contacted one employment agency and will contact a few more today. This is really my first time to have to seriously look for a job. All my other ones have just fallen in my lap. It's a whole new experience for me and I am not really enjoying it. It makes me nervous. The thought of going back to work full-time makes me nervous to tell the truth. It's just not the kind of person I am to want to go work a full-time job. I want to be a homemaker, even if I'm not very good at that, either. I do plan to be better. It's not like we have room for us to not pick up after ourselves here.
We're still trying to find a church home. We've "tried out" about five different congregations up here. I think we've narrowed it down to two. I'm comfortable with either one. Jeremy just can't find that comfort, though. I don't know how to help him. I'm trying not to step on his toes as the leader of our family, but I also want us to go ahead and place membership and get settled so we can start working with the church again and not just be visitors each week.
I've had my first party up here for my direct sales job. It was nice, but I'm trying to get some more on my calendar. Otherwise, I'm never going to get that built up enough to be my full-time job in the future.
That's our life right now. There's probably a few more things I'm leaving out -- like the fact that our cats are still living with my mom until we can afford to have them again (and we're missing their loud mouths and purrs). It's just getting settled, making friends, meeting new people, and trying new things. Not easy things really, but not terribly hard. I'm just ready to not be in transition anymore.
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