After I retired, my wife insisted that I accompany her on her trips to Target. Unfortunately, like most men, I found shopping boring and preferred to get in and get out. Equally unfortunate, my wife is like most women - she loves to browse. Yesterday my dear wife received the following letter from the local Target.
Dear Mrs. Samuel,
Over the past six months, your husband has caused quite a commotion in our store. We cannot tolerate this behavior and have been forced to ban both of you from the store. Our complaints against your husband,
Mr. Samuel's offenses are listed below and are documented by our video surveillance cameras.
June 15: Took 24 boxes of condoms and randomly put them in other people's carts when they weren't looking.
July 2: Set all the alarm clocks in House wares to go off at 5-minute intervals.
July 7: He made a trail of tomato juice on the floor leading to the women's restroom.
July19: Walked up to an employee and told her in an official voice, 'Code 3 in House wares. Get on it right away'. This caused the employee to leave her assigned station and receive a reprimand from her Supervisor
that in turn resulted with a union grievance, causing management to lose time and costing the company
money.
August 4: Went to the Service Desk and tried to put a bag of M&Ms on layaway.
August 14: Moved a 'CAUTION - WET FLOOR' sign to a carpeted area.
August 15: Set up a tent in the camping department and told the children shoppers he'd invite them in if they would bring pillows and blankets from the bedding department to which twenty children obliged.
August 23: When a clerk asked if they could help him he began crying and screamed, 'Why can't you people just leave me alone?' EMT's were called.
September 4: Looked right into the security camera and used it as a mirror while he picked his nose.
September 10: While handling guns in the hunting department, he asked the clerk where the antidepressants were.
October 3: Darted around the store suspiciously while loudly humming the Mission Impossible' theme.
October 6: In the auto department, he practiced his 'Madonna look' by using different sizes of funnels
October 18: Hid in a clothing rack and when people browsed through, yelled 'PICK ME! PICK ME!'
October 21: When an announcement came over the loud speaker, he assumed a fetal position and screamed 'OH NO! IT'S THOSE VOICES AGAIN!'
And last, but not least:
October 23: Went into a fitting room, shut the door, waited awhile then yelled very loudly, 'Hey! There's no toilet paper in here.' One of the clerks passed out.
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Old Man Winter
I am a snow baby with this being my birth month. According to the Zodiac, I was also born under the sign of fire. Heat versus cold....heat will edge out cold for me any day!! Can I just put it out there that I really dislike winter. I know I have several friends who live for winter. They love snowmobiling, skiing -- basking in the snow. Not me. At all! I. do. not. like. winter. Just so that we're clear.
Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter. That would sum of my favorite seasons in descending order. Maybe I'd like it more if we had true winters. I've never researched it but I think we must be the ice capital of the mid-west. Cold temperatures definitely, but we don't see a lot of snow. It rains a lot, which I think is odd. It's raining today. And since it is in the 20's, it's cold nasty rain. What's up with that? At least with snow, it's pretty and predictable. But with cold rain, it's just yuck. And when it freezes into ice, stay off the roads. St. Louisans really don't know how to drive in anything but sunny conditions.The overcast sky that takes up temporary residence, often not showing the sun for weeks at a time, adds to the ick factor. Seasonal mood disorders from a lack of sun. Pretty depressing. Literally.
Prediction for an inch of snow? News coverage around the clock; the grocery stores have stampedes like it's Thanksgiving eve. Really? Stupid people.
What I dislike about winter is having to bundle myself and my kids before leaving the house--coats, hats, gloves, scarves. Hassle to buckle my daughter into her car seat in the winter. The summer no problem. With a pair of flip flops and cute little short/top outfit, you are good to go. Much more forethought into leaving the house in the winter. When it does manage to snow, it's the melting gooky snow left behind from tire tracks and footprints that end up on your car floorboard and kitchen floor that is just gross. Yep, I am not a fan of winter.
Of course there are a few things I love about winter. An excuse to snuggle up on the couch with a mug of hot chocolate with mini-marshmallows. And soup. I love making soups once or twice a week. Definitely love the warm comfort of food in the winter. Changing over my summer wardrobe to winter clothes is kind of fun, too. To be clear, it's a necessary evil to change over my kid's clothes, too, which is decidedly on a top 10 list of things I do NOT like. But for me, I like it. I find sweaters and boots I had forgotten about--or a a find a reason to add a few pieces of clothing to my wardrobe. And I do love the quiet falling snow, undisturbed by people or animals. It can be beautiful to watch while in the comfort of your warm house.
Oh, there is one more thing I like about winter.....When winter has officially arrived, I can start the countdown to my favorite season and I know when it arrives in March or maybe early April I have a full 8 or 9 months to enjoy before having to deal with old man winter. Yes. THAT is my favorite part about winter.
Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter. That would sum of my favorite seasons in descending order. Maybe I'd like it more if we had true winters. I've never researched it but I think we must be the ice capital of the mid-west. Cold temperatures definitely, but we don't see a lot of snow. It rains a lot, which I think is odd. It's raining today. And since it is in the 20's, it's cold nasty rain. What's up with that? At least with snow, it's pretty and predictable. But with cold rain, it's just yuck. And when it freezes into ice, stay off the roads. St. Louisans really don't know how to drive in anything but sunny conditions.The overcast sky that takes up temporary residence, often not showing the sun for weeks at a time, adds to the ick factor. Seasonal mood disorders from a lack of sun. Pretty depressing. Literally.
Prediction for an inch of snow? News coverage around the clock; the grocery stores have stampedes like it's Thanksgiving eve. Really? Stupid people.
What I dislike about winter is having to bundle myself and my kids before leaving the house--coats, hats, gloves, scarves. Hassle to buckle my daughter into her car seat in the winter. The summer no problem. With a pair of flip flops and cute little short/top outfit, you are good to go. Much more forethought into leaving the house in the winter. When it does manage to snow, it's the melting gooky snow left behind from tire tracks and footprints that end up on your car floorboard and kitchen floor that is just gross. Yep, I am not a fan of winter.
Of course there are a few things I love about winter. An excuse to snuggle up on the couch with a mug of hot chocolate with mini-marshmallows. And soup. I love making soups once or twice a week. Definitely love the warm comfort of food in the winter. Changing over my summer wardrobe to winter clothes is kind of fun, too. To be clear, it's a necessary evil to change over my kid's clothes, too, which is decidedly on a top 10 list of things I do NOT like. But for me, I like it. I find sweaters and boots I had forgotten about--or a a find a reason to add a few pieces of clothing to my wardrobe. And I do love the quiet falling snow, undisturbed by people or animals. It can be beautiful to watch while in the comfort of your warm house.
Oh, there is one more thing I like about winter.....When winter has officially arrived, I can start the countdown to my favorite season and I know when it arrives in March or maybe early April I have a full 8 or 9 months to enjoy before having to deal with old man winter. Yes. THAT is my favorite part about winter.
Tis the Season
Actually, I think there are several elements interfering with being joyful this time of year. As a young adult, it started with the fact that my two sisters, my mom and myself have November-December birthdays. It's always been a challenge for me to focus on Christmas when there are several birthdays that are immediately before it. Then enter married life. I recall meeting Tony's extended family at Easter and them asking when my birthday fell. When I said the date, they all reacted the same "Of course it is". Their reaction was fitting. Why? Tony and his twin, their sister Holly, sister in law Karin, my father in law and oldest niece all have December birthdays. Add that to the mix of Olsen birthdays and it's enough to make any one's head spin. Talk about stress coming up with double the gift ideas--and double the money. Unfortunately, the financial stress in November and December doesn't help matters. A few of my best friends also have December birthdays. Seriously, couldn't we spread the wealth just a little?
Jesus. My Christian roots are really what's important and yet somehow the Christmas season is less and less about Him and more about the hustle and bustle of traditions and keeping up with how everyone else is celebrating. What it comes down to for me is that all this attention is focused on our Savior's birth--Carols are sung, manger scenes are proudly displayed, Jesus buttons appear on lapels--and it's accepted, even encouraged. But come December 26 it's over. And for another 11 months society will tell us it's NOT alright to proclaim his name or boldly talk about Christ. Yes, getting in the spirit is difficult for me. Society's contradiction squashes down my excitement. I don't need Christmas to celebrate the greatest man ever born; my Savior and Lord. I do that 365 days a year. And I do it authentically, consistently and passionately. I'll gladly put away my Christmas tree, put away my Christmas music and cookie recipes for another year. Jesus for me is more than an abstract concept to be celebrated once a year. He's in my heart every day.
Friday, December 4, 2009
What's in a Name
When asked "What is Elise's middle name?" I usually smile as I answer "Kathryn, after my mom." It's not the name that makes me smile...it's the story behind the name that cracks me up.
My mom's first name is Hilda--an Ethnic German name meaning "Battle woman", which I think is appropriate for a woman with her heritage. Yugoslavian born, she was given a common name for the time. Her mom used to call her Hilde, with the distinct pronunciation difference. I wonder if her birth certificate would have actually shown the alternate spelling rather than the "a" With birth certificates of that time destroyed, we will never know. Those documents simply do not exist--anywhere.
My mom's middle name is Kathryn, which does not in my mind jive with her first name. Totally not ethnic German; in fact, Kathryn is Greek for "pure". My mom did not know why her middle name was Kathryn -- although I think I have an explanation. Maybe. My grandma had an older sister who died at the tender age of 6 months. Her name was Katharina. It wasn't until my mom discovered a little booklet with birth and death dates--and dates of their internment in the camps--that we even knew she existed. By the time we knew of Katharina, my grandma had died, so there was no one to ask the details. It makes sense to me that my mom was named after her deceased aunt.
Being so young at the time they emigrated from Yugoslavia, my mom never was able to explain how they could make "legal" travels without proof of who they were. My grandma wouldn't explain, either. My mom seemed to believe that there were a lot of falsified documents along the way and it was only by God's grace that they were never caught--and able to declare naturalization as citizens after they came to the United States. I wonder if my grandma gave my mom a more Americanized identity and intentionally changed her middle name from Katharina to Kathryn. Just a theory, I suppose, but Katharina translates to the American Katherine. Totally plausible if not substantiated.
One day while in my last trimester of pregnancy with Elise, I was visiting my mom at my parent's house. She asked me to grab her driver's license from her wallet. Glancing at the license, I notice her middle name was Catherine. Red flag for me -- her granddaughter was going to be named after her.
"Mom, that is not how you spell your middle name." I said, matter of factly."You know I am naming Elise after you and we are spelling it the way I know it to be."
"Oh, honey." she responded. "I never remember how to spell my middle name. It never mattered before."
"Well, it matters now since I am naming her after you. At least after the part of your name that you like." adding with a smile. My mom never liked her name, which is probably no surprise. She even went by the nickname Kitten in high school. Thankfully, her nickname did not follow her into adulthood. At one point as a young adult, she had considered changing her name, but did not want to offend her mom--and she wasn't trying to alter her past so figured it was best just to keep it "Hilda." I recall a horribly stupid television show called The $1.98 Beauty Pageant. It ran back to back with the equally horrific The Gong Show. My mom was horrified when one of the contestants was a fat slobbish housewife named Hilda Olsen. Yeah. That was not my mom's favorite moment. It wasn't funny at the time--and truthfully, I don't think she ever found the humor in it.
Fast forward to early to mid 2007. My mom was completing a "Grandmother Book" for my sister's daughter at a request by my sister; hopefully, putting onto paper the Grandma her young daughter would never otherwise know. Fortunately my sister had the forethought to do that since her daughter would barely be two at my mom's death. Because she was working on this book, my mom called me on the telephone one day.
"Honey, now HOW do you spell my middle name again?" she asked.
I remember smiling on the other end of the receiver. Well if nothing else, my mom was consistent. And we all know the answer to that question now. Everyone except maybe my mom herself!
My mom's first name is Hilda--an Ethnic German name meaning "Battle woman", which I think is appropriate for a woman with her heritage. Yugoslavian born, she was given a common name for the time. Her mom used to call her Hilde, with the distinct pronunciation difference. I wonder if her birth certificate would have actually shown the alternate spelling rather than the "a" With birth certificates of that time destroyed, we will never know. Those documents simply do not exist--anywhere.
My mom's middle name is Kathryn, which does not in my mind jive with her first name. Totally not ethnic German; in fact, Kathryn is Greek for "pure". My mom did not know why her middle name was Kathryn -- although I think I have an explanation. Maybe. My grandma had an older sister who died at the tender age of 6 months. Her name was Katharina. It wasn't until my mom discovered a little booklet with birth and death dates--and dates of their internment in the camps--that we even knew she existed. By the time we knew of Katharina, my grandma had died, so there was no one to ask the details. It makes sense to me that my mom was named after her deceased aunt.
Being so young at the time they emigrated from Yugoslavia, my mom never was able to explain how they could make "legal" travels without proof of who they were. My grandma wouldn't explain, either. My mom seemed to believe that there were a lot of falsified documents along the way and it was only by God's grace that they were never caught--and able to declare naturalization as citizens after they came to the United States. I wonder if my grandma gave my mom a more Americanized identity and intentionally changed her middle name from Katharina to Kathryn. Just a theory, I suppose, but Katharina translates to the American Katherine. Totally plausible if not substantiated.
One day while in my last trimester of pregnancy with Elise, I was visiting my mom at my parent's house. She asked me to grab her driver's license from her wallet. Glancing at the license, I notice her middle name was Catherine. Red flag for me -- her granddaughter was going to be named after her.
"Mom, that is not how you spell your middle name." I said, matter of factly."You know I am naming Elise after you and we are spelling it the way I know it to be."
"Oh, honey." she responded. "I never remember how to spell my middle name. It never mattered before."
"Well, it matters now since I am naming her after you. At least after the part of your name that you like." adding with a smile. My mom never liked her name, which is probably no surprise. She even went by the nickname Kitten in high school. Thankfully, her nickname did not follow her into adulthood. At one point as a young adult, she had considered changing her name, but did not want to offend her mom--and she wasn't trying to alter her past so figured it was best just to keep it "Hilda." I recall a horribly stupid television show called The $1.98 Beauty Pageant. It ran back to back with the equally horrific The Gong Show. My mom was horrified when one of the contestants was a fat slobbish housewife named Hilda Olsen. Yeah. That was not my mom's favorite moment. It wasn't funny at the time--and truthfully, I don't think she ever found the humor in it.
Fast forward to early to mid 2007. My mom was completing a "Grandmother Book" for my sister's daughter at a request by my sister; hopefully, putting onto paper the Grandma her young daughter would never otherwise know. Fortunately my sister had the forethought to do that since her daughter would barely be two at my mom's death. Because she was working on this book, my mom called me on the telephone one day.
"Honey, now HOW do you spell my middle name again?" she asked.
I remember smiling on the other end of the receiver. Well if nothing else, my mom was consistent. And we all know the answer to that question now. Everyone except maybe my mom herself!
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
....As the Candle Burns
For the first time I noticed a candle today at my dad's house. A large light red candle with dried wax along side of it's awkwardly-shaped remains. It certainly was not a pretty candle--one that I imagine wasn't pretty to start with. It sits on the second shelf over my mom's computer desk. And there it still sits even two years after her death. From the looks of it, the candle was well-used and now sat dormant along side the corner of the office free of use.
Most noticeably, though, are the trinkets and personal affects that adorn the shelves. My favorite piece is the ceramic baby harp seal. That was the first animal rights cause my mom joined. In fact, I wrote a very well-received term paper my senior year about the plight of the baby harp seals. That cause was a platform for my mom to realize that there were a lot of animals who needed human intervention to keep them safe and protected. That seal speaks volumes to me in who my mom was, what she believed it, and what she was passionate about.
Another favorite piece is a beautiful ceramic African elephant planter. She got that as a gift from the neighbor across the street on her last Christmas. This was just one of many elephant pieces she owned. Honestly, I never understood where she developed a love of elephants. On a Friday, Pam and I spent a day cleaning their house as a surprise for when she came home from the hospital. I remember so vividly dusting the shelf that proudly displayed several elephants, carelessly breaking off the trunk of her favorite one. I got disproportionately upset about it , knowing even in the moment that it wasn't really about the elephant. Fortunately, my dad was able to repair him. Unfortunately, my mom never made it home.
Gazing across the desk, I also noticed a box of tissues. It seemed oddly out of place. Opening her drawer, looking for a paperclip I scanned the contents. Surely my dad had rummaged through the office supply drawer looking for a post-it-note or highlighter, but it struck me how largely it was untouched.
Even today, as I entered the front door to my parent's house, I gazed to my left as if looking for my mom. It was at her desk she spent most of her time -- either working or playing games. Gem Shop was her favorite game, although she loved Iggle Pop and Jewel Drop, too. It was at that desk that my mom grew suspicious of the cancer growing inside her. She started experiencing back and belly pains and often noticed it while at the desk. The doctor had suggested getting a new chair. I think even the weeks leading up to the diagnosis--one that should not have taken so long to get--she knew something was wrong beyond the ill-fitting chair the doctor claimed it was. Although my dad would defend the doctor, my mom shared with me her frustration in the 3 months it took to be diagnosed--even with all the advancements and clear indicators of a serious illness. Three months is valuable time lost with a pancreatic cancer diagnosis and she knew it. My mom was rarely sick -- rarely ever visited the doctor-- so for him to put her off for so long really "irked" my mom, as she would say.
My dad has been steadfast and diligent in remodeling the house--directing his grief in a positive manner. The office is one of the next projects. Although "next" seems to be the operative word. He has acknowledged that my mom's desk would be better suited for him--that it would be beneficial to combine work spaces and get rid of excess furniture. Easier said than done, I wonder. As he remodels the house, it has become his space -- one that does not include her. The office is the last space in the house that still embodies her and can tell a story of her life.Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Capturing a Moment in Time
Adam was obediently allowing this scene to play out. Here Twinkle is giving him kisses while he continues to read. She hasn't quite gotten his attention. If you know Adam well enough you can tell that he has a smile trying to emerge. This was very fun for him to experience such deliberate attention from her.
Adam is giving her his full attention and they are fully engaged in little luv kisses. Adam was giggly at this point but still just trying to respond to her in such a way that I could take more pictures without her getting spooked and flying off. She luves him!
Adam had been stroking the nape of her neck and petting her to give her the attention she was obviously seeking. In an act of submission, she lay her head down to be nuzzled. Every once in a while she'd kiss his chin as he stroked her head. Twinkle cotinually rubbed her head along his face to encourage a connection between them.
This is my favorite picture. Adam was so pleased to be the chosen one--over me or Tony. Here she is expressing 100 percent submission to him. It was such a sweet interaction between the two of them; I love that it shows how even the least of God's creatures have their own little personalities. Who needs a dog when you have such a loving little 90 gram bird!
Monday, November 23, 2009
The Statement Behind the Question
Now that I am firmly in my 40's I'm much more comfortable in my skin. The insecurities that we're like a conjoined twin that plagued me in my teens and into my 20's slowly started to dissipate once I was in my committed relationship with Tony. I am a firm believer that a healthy relationship will allow for personal growth and change, and Tony has been lovingly aside me as I've done just that. Between the security of the love of my husband--and life experiences--I've certainly come into my own; and I think it's been mainly positive growth.
I suppose it's because I finally like who I am and am confident in my life choices that it always surprises me when someone asks me "Once the kids are back in school full time are you going back to work?" And, honestly, I am surprised how many times this subject has come up now that Elise is approaching traditional school age. I suppose it's what I am hearing behind the question that always takes me by surprise and I feel myself get a little on the defensive. What I am hearing is "As long as you have kids at home full time you can stay home; society will make allowances for you not contributing to your family income. But once your kids are in school you will have all sort of free time and become a free-loader, so it's time to get a job". Isn't that the implication I"m hearing? OK, so maybe I'm holding onto my insecurities just a little....
When I married Tony in 1998 I became a wife and a full time 24/7 step mom to Tony's two school aged boys --nearly 6 and 9 1/2 years old -- and sadly, they were broken, hurting boys at that. Not only was I learning how to be a wife and learning to share my life on a day to day basis with him, but I was also thrown into being a mom. Oh, did I mention I worked full time for the electric company, too? For two years I continued to work full time until I finally quit my job when Adam was born. Those first two years were very difficult years and ones that I don't think back on very often. There were not a lot of positive interactions and experiences and I keep them buried in the deep recesses of my mind. They are safer there. Really.
One of the reasons why Tony and I were so compatible, I think, is that we both came from traditional backgrounds. Our parents had both been married 30 plus years and our dads were the bread-winner, while our moms only worked part time throughout our childhoods. We both valued the stay-at-home mom and that was the example we wanted to set for our children. Being a stay-at-homer was a no-brainer for me and a family value that Tony and I embraced.
Over the last 12 years I have worked full time with kids in school, been the proverbial stay-at-home mom, and have worked part time. All three have their benefits and drawbacks. Working full time while taking care of my family was physically demanding and emotionally draining, while financially feeling very secure. There was an air of being partners and I enjoyed contributing to the household financially.
Following Adam's birth I stayed at home full time for 5 years, with Elise arriving near the end of that 5 yr period. Financially we had to cut back but we managed nicely raising the three boys (and toward the end, adding our little girl). Tony did not love his job but it was secure and he was home for dinner every night. Being at home full time with an infant./toddler/preschooler is challenging. Not every mom is cut out to do it but I think I made the most of my time with Adam and I look back very fondly on those years. Being there for him in those early years is irreplaceable in my heart.
About the time of Elise's birth we found ourselves reverting custody back to Tony's ex wife and paying her child support. Plus we had purchased a bigger home to accommodate all 4 kids. When they unexpectedly moved out after our move, we found ourselves in dire straits financially for the first time. That is when I started working intermittently. The last 5 years have been my "part time" years. For 18 months I babysat my niece in our home 40 hours a week. She is 5 months younger than Elise so it was a lot like having twins. I loved having a playmate for Elise but it was certainly challenging keeping up with two kids and found myself more house-bound than I was with just Adam. I did not have the freedom I was used to and that was definitely difficult. I also worked as a gymnastics coach for 6 months but they had to replace me after I could not return to work quickly enough following umbilical hernia surgery. By then Tony's job had changed and his hours also changed dramatically. Once he started his endless travels and 12-14 hour business days, working wasn't going so well for me.
Which, in turn, takes me back to the point of my blog anyway. So why are people so concerned with whether or not I am going to go back to work anyway? To answer the question simply-- No, I don't plan on returning to work so long as my husband provides for us. I will gladly leave what jobs are available to those men and women who need them. If I worked outside the home it is certain that we could live more affluently and the perks of it are nice, but I don't need brand new cars, a yearly jet-setting vacation, high definition flat screen televisions and cable television (Nope. Just regular TV for us. Shocking!).
Clearly, it is the people who do not know me as well who are asking that question. No grass is growing beneath my feet. I am actively participating in the lives of my children, volunteering at school and church and in our community. Our house is (usually) neat, clean and orderly and errands are run. Empty laundry baskets grace the bedroom floors and dinner is on the table on most nights by 6 p.m. After years of raising my step sons and now completing my first decade of raising my own, I feel that I have succeeded quite nicely with the life I've chosen. I may never stop hearing that question but that's OK. Tony's happy, my kids are happy and I am happy. Who can really ask for more than that?
I suppose it's because I finally like who I am and am confident in my life choices that it always surprises me when someone asks me "Once the kids are back in school full time are you going back to work?" And, honestly, I am surprised how many times this subject has come up now that Elise is approaching traditional school age. I suppose it's what I am hearing behind the question that always takes me by surprise and I feel myself get a little on the defensive. What I am hearing is "As long as you have kids at home full time you can stay home; society will make allowances for you not contributing to your family income. But once your kids are in school you will have all sort of free time and become a free-loader, so it's time to get a job". Isn't that the implication I"m hearing? OK, so maybe I'm holding onto my insecurities just a little....
When I married Tony in 1998 I became a wife and a full time 24/7 step mom to Tony's two school aged boys --nearly 6 and 9 1/2 years old -- and sadly, they were broken, hurting boys at that. Not only was I learning how to be a wife and learning to share my life on a day to day basis with him, but I was also thrown into being a mom. Oh, did I mention I worked full time for the electric company, too? For two years I continued to work full time until I finally quit my job when Adam was born. Those first two years were very difficult years and ones that I don't think back on very often. There were not a lot of positive interactions and experiences and I keep them buried in the deep recesses of my mind. They are safer there. Really.
One of the reasons why Tony and I were so compatible, I think, is that we both came from traditional backgrounds. Our parents had both been married 30 plus years and our dads were the bread-winner, while our moms only worked part time throughout our childhoods. We both valued the stay-at-home mom and that was the example we wanted to set for our children. Being a stay-at-homer was a no-brainer for me and a family value that Tony and I embraced.
Over the last 12 years I have worked full time with kids in school, been the proverbial stay-at-home mom, and have worked part time. All three have their benefits and drawbacks. Working full time while taking care of my family was physically demanding and emotionally draining, while financially feeling very secure. There was an air of being partners and I enjoyed contributing to the household financially.
Following Adam's birth I stayed at home full time for 5 years, with Elise arriving near the end of that 5 yr period. Financially we had to cut back but we managed nicely raising the three boys (and toward the end, adding our little girl). Tony did not love his job but it was secure and he was home for dinner every night. Being at home full time with an infant./toddler/preschooler is challenging. Not every mom is cut out to do it but I think I made the most of my time with Adam and I look back very fondly on those years. Being there for him in those early years is irreplaceable in my heart.
About the time of Elise's birth we found ourselves reverting custody back to Tony's ex wife and paying her child support. Plus we had purchased a bigger home to accommodate all 4 kids. When they unexpectedly moved out after our move, we found ourselves in dire straits financially for the first time. That is when I started working intermittently. The last 5 years have been my "part time" years. For 18 months I babysat my niece in our home 40 hours a week. She is 5 months younger than Elise so it was a lot like having twins. I loved having a playmate for Elise but it was certainly challenging keeping up with two kids and found myself more house-bound than I was with just Adam. I did not have the freedom I was used to and that was definitely difficult. I also worked as a gymnastics coach for 6 months but they had to replace me after I could not return to work quickly enough following umbilical hernia surgery. By then Tony's job had changed and his hours also changed dramatically. Once he started his endless travels and 12-14 hour business days, working wasn't going so well for me.
Which, in turn, takes me back to the point of my blog anyway. So why are people so concerned with whether or not I am going to go back to work anyway? To answer the question simply-- No, I don't plan on returning to work so long as my husband provides for us. I will gladly leave what jobs are available to those men and women who need them. If I worked outside the home it is certain that we could live more affluently and the perks of it are nice, but I don't need brand new cars, a yearly jet-setting vacation, high definition flat screen televisions and cable television (Nope. Just regular TV for us. Shocking!).
Clearly, it is the people who do not know me as well who are asking that question. No grass is growing beneath my feet. I am actively participating in the lives of my children, volunteering at school and church and in our community. Our house is (usually) neat, clean and orderly and errands are run. Empty laundry baskets grace the bedroom floors and dinner is on the table on most nights by 6 p.m. After years of raising my step sons and now completing my first decade of raising my own, I feel that I have succeeded quite nicely with the life I've chosen. I may never stop hearing that question but that's OK. Tony's happy, my kids are happy and I am happy. Who can really ask for more than that?
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