The Feminist Breeder

Day Tripping With Some Sexy Bitches

I'm going to write two separate posts about my trip to Philadelphia to visit the GlaxoSmithKline vaccination production facility.  The first post will be about my personal experience with meeting other bloggers for the first time, and the second post will go into greater detail about what I learned at GSK.

I have never met any other blogger, twitterer, or cyber friend in real life before.  For the most part, the idea makes me a bit uncomfortable.  I generally provide full disclosure here, and also write some very opinionated, polarizing statements that I know other people fucking hate me for.  Online, I can simply hit "delete" or "unfollow" if I don't like the 'tude I'm getting from somebody.  In person, I'm forced to be my most diplomatic self.  We (me, my husband, my friends) call it "The Gina Show."  It's not that it's a fake persona, it's just me on my best behavior.  I think we all do this.  When you're a fucking asshole like I (sometimes) am, that can be soooo exhausting.  I also tend to take things pretty personally, and where others can fight with someone one minute and be shaking their hand the next, I don't operate like that.  Yeah, yeah.  I know.  I'm an immature little snot.  Tell me something I don't know.

I certainly had my diplomacy work cut out for me on this trip because I wasn't meeting any bloggers who share my interests, or rant irately about cesareans and breastfeeding the way I do.  I wasn't even meeting anyone whose blog I'd ever read (aside from Kristen, who was present for the tour only, but not at the hotel, so we hardly saw her.)  If I were meeting Melodie from Breastfeeding Moms Unite, or Amber from Strocel.com, or my Cyber BFF from Unnecessarean (or a bunch of others) I'm sure we would have gushed about all the same topics and been brushing each other's hair by the end of the day.  That's not to say we all have the same exact opinions on things, but we are certainly very, very passionate about some of the same things, and that provides a lot of common ground to stand on.  Also, by sheer virtue of having read each other's blogs on many occasions, we all (I think) feel a certain warmth and respect for each other that would facilitate conversation, empathy, support, and instant bonding in real life.  Well, I could be totally projecting my feelings onto those three particular bloggers, but I would be very surprised if they'd disagree with me on that sentiment.

But this was very different.  I had never read any of these other bloggers, and they run in a very different "scene" than I do.  Here's the list of women I met:

Steph at CreatureBug

Cecily at Uppercase Woman (thanks to her for the lovely picture of us all in the GSK parking lot)

Kristen from Motherhood Uncensored (who is 8 feet tall and 10 times hotter in person. Rowr.)

Devra and Aviva from Parentopia

Sarah from Sarah and the Goon Squad

Lori from Avacado8 (who didn't come on the tour, only to dinner, she lives in Philly.)

I was nervous enough about the whole trip, but I was trying to put me crazy-ass social anxiety aside and try to make the best of it.  I was off to a great start too.  As soon as I landed I got a text from Steph at Creature Bug asking where people were meeting.  We agreed to meet at the shuttle and travel to the hotel together.  She was quite friendly, I think we hit it off right away and we had a good 90 minutes of getting to know each other before we got to the hotel.  She had also never been to an event like this, so I didn't feel like I was the only person who didn't know anybody.  I was starting to feel a little more relaxed.  As soon as we checked in, we had to meet the other women for dinner right away.  All the other women we met knew each other very well, and had either been friends for years and years, or were at least very regular readers of each other's blogs and had met at previous blogging events.  They were also seasoned "monetizers" (a word I learned on the trip) meaning that this whole blogging thing was paying some bills for them.  That alone made me start to feel a little out of my league.

We sat down to dinner and before most people had their menus open Devra from Parentopia and I started talking about the GSK tour.  She made a comment about Big Pharma being "evil" (which, in retrospect, I think may have been sarcasm) but also mentioned that they can sometimes save some lives as well.  So I said that I felt the same way about cesareans; I love them when they're necessary and don't so much love them when they aren't.  Oh Gina.  Why don't you just keep your fucking pie-hole shut. (<-rhetorical question.)  So from across the table, Lori says "What was that?" and I am forced to repeat myself, knowing what was coming next.  She immediately stops the table and says "Okay, raise your hand if you have had a cesarean" and everyone except one person at the table raises their hand. 

(hint: If everyone at your table has had a cesarean, and you're NOT at an ICAN meeting, your cesarean-awareness-self is about to be hella uncomfortable.) 

And then of course the table broke into the "but-mine-was-really-necessary" stories and I felt like the Town A-Hole again.  This is where I shut the fuck up.  This is where I know I am not among my audience, and the kind of thing I write about (live, eat, breath, sleep, study, will-practice-law-someday-soon-for) is not going to be welcome conversation here.  Man, it's gonna be a looooooong night.

So I spent the next 15 minutes or so coming down from my social anxiety attack, and found a way to work myself back into the conversation (Gina, don't say shit about crunchy living.)  We ended up talking, joking, and discussing the world until nearly 11 pm, and it was a pretty good time.  I managed to blame my cesarean and formula feeding for my distance with my first son, a non-popular opinion again, but there was no spectacle made of it.

The next day we all boarded into a van and made the 2 hour trip up to Marietta PA for the GSK tour.  We had a lot of time to talk and joke about everything under the sun, and I was feeling more and more comfortable.  Perhaps I fit in after all.  I mean, these are moms, I'm a mom, we all have at least that in common, right? 

Well, don't worry, I put myself right back outside the circle when the GSK hosts asked us if we had any questions.  I asked about whether they had tested the vaccinations in groups, and if so, where could I find the results of that testing.  I asked about Thimerosal, why it was included in the Influenza and H1N1 vaccines.  I asked if they were aware of the study recently published that showed some devastating effects of Thimerosal, and I asked if they had been made aware of the recent findings by the Canadian Government that the flu shot was making people more susceptible to acquiring H1N1.  Of course GSK wasn't super jazzed about those questions, and I believe nobody else seemed to share my concern on those points.  (Oh Gina, you're such a trouble-maker.)  That line of questioning was talked about on the long 3 hour van ride back to Philly, and I was made even more aware that I was the only person in the vehicle who was still quite skeptical.  I was also the only person who felt that, if there was a real risk for autism, that should be enough to change the way vaccinations are made and/or administered.  The general consensus that I felt was that vaccinations save lives and there was no need to question the science.  Of course, being the advocate and analytic mind that I am, I say question everything.

Now, we all know I vaccinate my kids.  They've never missed one.  I do believe they have saved millions of lives and that vaccinations are a matter of public health.  But, I am also a die-hard believer in informed consent, and am sensitive to the reasons why some people don't vaccinate.  I would never suggest to one of my very best friends that it was okay her kid got autism as long as a bunch of other kids' lives were saved.  I think one case of vaccine-induced autism is too many.  I have a deep empathy for those who are raising special needs children, and I want to keep examining the science behind this until we know why this is happening to children, and we have stopped the epidemic.  So I spent a lot of time feeling like the only dickhead in the car who was beating up on those poor nice GSK folks (they were very nice, and I'll talk more about that in my next post.)

In summary, my first experience with meeting other bloggers was certainly a very interesting one.  I learned that I can participate in hours of conversation with mothers who are nothing like me, and I will not die of a panic-attack-induced stroke in the process.  I learned that until I know if everyone at the table has had a cesarean, maybe I should hold my cards closer to my chest while I test the water on that topic.  Not everyone can (or wants to) rattle off cesarean and infant mortality statistics the way I can.  And finally, I discovered a whole new subculture of this female/mother blogger community that I didn't even know existed, and in doing so, my awareness has been expanded.

So a big thanks to David Wescott for hooking me up with these women.  And stay tuned for the next post where I will put my head on a directly on the chopping block by talking about vaccinations.  As if people didn't have enough reasons to leave me nasty comments already, I'm gonna go and open that can 'o worms.

Duht-Duhnt-Duuuuuuhhhhnt.

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(and so you now, GlaxoSmithKline paid every dollar of this trip for me, so thanks again GSK)

It's Possible That I'm Being Punk'd

So I’ve been invited to fly out to Philadelphia next week, courtesy of GlaxoSmithKline, to tour their vaccination facility. The trip is unbelievably terrible timing seeing as I have 5 (yes FIVE) cakes due the day after I come back, and two classes that will need to be skipped, making my professors none too happy.

Going could not be any more inconvenient or impossible.  But I’m trying to make it possible.  I think it will be hugely educational (how often does one get to visit a major pharmaceutical facility anyway?) and the fact that it’s fully paid for by them means I have no real financial excuse to skip it.

Plus, some of the cool kids will be there. 

They’ve invited a small group of “influential” mom bloggers (don’t ask me how I’m included in that), which means I’ll finally get to meet some of these gals you see banging around the interwebs.  It looks like Pundit Mom is making an appearance, as well as Kristen Chase.  Kristen is the person that inspired me to take The Feminist Breeder to the streets after I discovered her through a Podcast wayyyyy back in 2007.  I’m pretty sure she hates me ever since I called her white (oh, wait until she sees how white I am! The husband says I glow in the dark!) but maybe she’ll forgive me if I bring her a pair of high-heeled Crocs.  Isn't the gift of Crocs the universal way of saying "Sorry I was being a cunt that day"?

They haven’t sent me the plane tickets yet so we’ll see if this thing really pans out.  I’ll be skeptical until I’m actually sitting on the runway.  It almost feels like all the head cheerleaders devised a plan to invite me to the prom, only to have me show up at an empty warehouse while they lay waiting in the bushes, filming the whole thing as a YouTube prank.

Oh, there goes my self-loathing narcissism again.  I doubt the head cheerleaders even care enough about me to play a prank.

Anyhoo, if there really is a vaccination facility in Pennsylvania, and I'm really on the guest list, then I’ll write all about the experience – don’t you worry.

The First Day of the Rest of my Life

Yesterday was the end of my career in Display Advertising Product Management.

Today, I woke up a mom, a student, a blogger, a cake business owner, and an activist.  I did all of those things today, and it felt great.  I was more patient with my kids than I normally am.  I felt more invested in my other work.  And I finally felt like I had the time and mental energy to focus on the things that are really important to me.  In the words of the formidable Ice Cube: “Today was a Good Day.”

Plus, my kids slept in until 7:30, woke up in a good mood, and cooperated with me all day.  Julesy did take frightening spill just before lunch time that split his lip wide open and soaked his (and my) clothes with blood.  ACK!  But once he calmed down, it/he was fine, and he ate lunch like it hadn’t even happened.

Then both the kids took a nice, long nap, and so did I.  Pure Heaven.

OH! And the greatest piece of news for the day was that one of my ICAN moms had her baby by VBAC this morning.  I was intensely invested in helping her get her VBAC, and have been laying awake at night worrying about her situation.  Her case was especially nail-biting because her OB actually dropped her at 41 wks pregnant last week (hello unethical!) because she refused to have another cesarean that she felt was not medically indicated.  Her doc told her she was killing her baby, etc., etc.  And today, she proved that doctor wrong by birthing her little girl vaginally without incident. Love it.

Now I will retire to rest up for my big Philosophy midterm tomorrow evening.  I just have to say I'm feeling really good about life right now though.  Yay life... You rule.

The Last Day

Today is the last day at my corporate gig.  I've been here since my now-3-year-old son was in utero.  I've worked here longer than I've ever worked anywhere. 

This is strange. I'm not running out of here kicking my heels like I thought I would be.  Instead, I'm digging my heals in and hoping this is one of the slower days of my life.  It will be too unsettling to wake up tomorrow morning and have no workplace to report to.

Everyone wants me to be happy. This is what I wanted.  But it's all too weird for me to be "happy" just yet.

I keep telling myself that I'm worried about the money, but with my surprise 401k liquidation, and the many thousands I just received in new financial aid, truthfully we could float for 6 full months without panicking.  And I'll only get more next semester, and I do have cake money coming in -- so we're really not that bad off.  Ultimately I don't think the lack of money is what's really freaking me out.

I think I may have to face the fact that perhaps I like coming to work.  Maybe I even like coming here.  I don't like it enough to change my mind and undo all of this, but I do want to recognize that this isn't going to be the easiest transition for me.  This place - this job - is part of my identity.

I've worked in an office for 13 years. And now, all the sudden, I won't be anymore.  At least not for awhile.  And don't ask me "So, what will you do with yourself?" because there is PLENTY to do (like taking care of kids, running my cake business, and keeping up my 4.0 GPA with an 18-hr class load.)

I won't be bored, that's for sure.  I'm just not totally mentally prepared for my life to change this drastically.  But I guess I better get prepared, because it's already Noon, and the second half of the day will probably go by quicker than the first.

And in a very, very strange twist of events, my boss from an old company wandered into the office today.  I haven't seen him in 5 years.  I say "what in the world are YOU doing here?" - and he replies that he's the new manager.  I would have been working directly with him again.  I always liked him too.  What a weird-o coincidence.

Now I'm off to my "farewell" lunch with my soon-to-be-Ex boss.

*deep breath*

Now This is a Choice I will Own

I got all bent out of shape some time back when my favorite uncensored mommy blogger suggested that people should suck it up and “own” whatever situation they are in.  Easy to say when you’re half-white, decidedly middle-class, and don’t have to leave your kids in someone else’s care 50 hours a week while you shuffle off to a job you absolutely despise, cursing the whole way, and plotting the ways in which you will make your husband pay for doing this to you.

But, I get her point.  She wants people to be happy.  And it's not her fault. She just happened to post that at a time where I was especially miserable with my circumstances, and wasn't gonna listen to anybody tell me I needed to "own" any part of it. I was in no mood.  I don’t agree that people need to shut the fuck up when they aren’t not happy, and I don’t believe that being happy is as simple as some middle class whilte folks make it sound.  But hey, I really do want to own my choice – so long as I actually have a choice.  I could bore you all with a philosophical theory on the origin of ownership and how it is not possible to own that which you have not purposely either cultivated or bartered for, but c’mon, you guys don’t come here for a dissertation on Locke, so let’s just do this the navel-gazing TFB way instead...

I think people are essentially responsible for themselves.  Sure I do.  I was raised in a conservative household.  You know, the kind of people that grow up poor as hell, but still vote Republican because they think that other people want to take away all the money they don’t have.  Yeah, those maddening people.  The Joe 6-Pack people.  But for all their mislead political alignment, I am bred with a “pull-yourself-up-by-your-bootstraps” mentality, and that is essentially a pretty positive, Protestant, hard-working approach to life.  Thus, I work my tail off, and I take responsibility for the things I am responsible for.

But add marriage, kids, and global economic crises to the picture, and I think the waters become a bit muddied.  People are not islands, and sometimes the choices of others contradict what you may have chosen for yourself.  It’s not always as easy as walking away from their choice, especially when you are contractually or genetically bound to these people and responsible for their well-being.

So, for a very long time, I suffered through doing what I had to do instead of what I wanted to do.  I focused on work and fit school in where I could, instead of focusing on school and finishing my law degree.  I ached for leaving my kids, but I slaved over a breastpump all the hours of the days so I could do right by them even when I couldn’t be physically present. 

But now, I get to make a choice.  It is not an easy choice; that is certain.  It’s not like a Coke bottle filled with gold coins fell out of the sky and landed in my bank account so I could just walk out of my job without a single backward glance.  There is a lot of uncertainty, and a lot of second-guessing myself.  But, there came a point in life where my corporate employment was no longer worth the opportunity cost of the other things I was sacrificing in my life.  It’s very hard to come from poverty and not place an intense amount of value on money and stability. However, I am trying to focus on all the good this change will bring, and not feel suffocated by the $1500 deficit we’ll be facing each month: a deficit that I will have to find a way to make up with cake orders and school loans (and the money I’m pulling out of my 401k, and the loans we’ve already taken from the mother-in-law to help us get out of that condo debt, etc. etc.)
 
Even though we will not be comfortable financially, and I have no idea whether I’m cut out for being a work-at-home-mother , this is still easier than what I was doing.  This choice I made.  This choice I labored over and worked for.  This choice wasn’t made by someone else without my permission.  This one is mine.  And I will be happy to own it.

Look out world... here I come.

Forbes Magazine Interviews Yours Truly...

A few weeks ago I was interviewed by a journalist for Forbes Magazine on the plight of the Working & Pumping Mother.

This is a plight I know all too well.  It's not easy providing breastmilk to a baby you don't see 50 hours a week.  But I busted my butt, and made it through that full year of pumping at work without a drop of formula supplementation.  Luckily my employer didn't give me any hassles, and they never questioned a minute I needed to spend in the Mother's Room, but they didn't exactly provide me with all the resources I needed to be successful either.

They could do better, so I helped them do better, and it was a win/win for everyone.

The case that this article makes is that Employers can do more to assist nursing Mothers, and it only helps their bottom line.  Read the full Forbes.com article called "The Business of Breastfeeding."

Yay me!

PS. I'm the second Gina in the article (Gina Crosley-Corcoran), not the Gina from Lanisoh - but weird coincidence!

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UPDATED:

Upon request I have added the document I created for my company. 

Download Mothers Room Info-Breastfeeding (1.36 MB PDF)

Feel free to use these as a guide in creating your own Mother's Room materials.  It is also important to order some fee copies of The Business Case For Breastfeeding to have on hand as well.

The Storm Before The Calm

Jesus.

Shit is crazy.

Work is nuts.
School is nuts.
Cakes are nuts.
Kids are nuts.
And I have a bad cold this week.

If I make it through this week without maiming someone, it will be by the grace of God-the-Mystical-Sky-Fairy.

This is what it looks like when you cut off a chicken’s head, and its body keeps running around the barnyard.  I’m beyond overwhelmed.  Besides all the stuff I HAVE to do, I really WANT to finish the ICAN of DuPage startup materials so I can get that out of the gate before our September 14th meeting. 

And then there’s this blog.  Oh poor blog, you have been neglected so.  No, of course I don’t have to write, but if I don’t write for a few days, it nags at me – like the feeling of having to go pee, but being too busy to do it.  If you go too long, you’ll end up with a bladder infection.  In my case, it’s a “too-many-words-in-my-head” infection, and the catharsis of this blog is often my only relief.

So, like I said, I started school again last week, and these are certainly the two hardest class I’ve had so far.  One is a political philosophy course with a 101 year old teacher whose rules are the bible and who, I can tell already, will be very hard pressed to give anyone in the class anything higher than a C because that’s how hardcore, old-school philosophy professors operate.

This oughtta be fun.

The second class is an ECON 201 course (Microeconomics) and (let me put this in big, bold letters so you understand I’m very serious) – I SUCK AT MATH.

I know the math teachers of the world are gasping in horror now, but those are the facts.  I’ve gotten through my whole life without ever learning how to multiply a fraction, or plot a grid.  But now, if I want to pass this class, I’m going to have to learn how to do both of those things, and a lot more, in the next 7 short weeks.  I had to buy graph paper for the first time in my life last week.  I found it in the “back to school” section, next to the crayons and glue sticks.  Is this what my life has come to?  Shouldn’t I be buying these things for my own children?  Aren’t I beyond this?

Apparently not.

If I don’t get a break soon, I might lose it.  I really might.  I wrote many, many expletives in an email yesterday to my fucking boss, and only had the good sense to delete them about 3 milliseconds before I hit the Send button.  The Husband took me out to eat last night to calm my nerves, and before we left I overheard him begging the 3 yr old to please be on his best behavior because mommy is not feeling well and she might get all screamy if certain people couldn't act right in the restaurant. Sad.

But tonight I won’t get home from work/class until 11:30 pm, at which time I have to decorate 4 dozen cupcakes in the theme of “Ralph’s World” for an order due tomorrow morning.

And then there's more class. And more cakes due. And these kids won't give me a break.

Have I mentioned that I haven’t slept in a couple of years?

September 15th.  Please, please September 15th, come as fast as you can.

***now where did I stash that few-year old bottle of Zoloft?***

Announcing my Big, Big News...

I quit my job.

No, let me rephrase that: I quit one of my jobs.

When I posted last Friday that I had a big announcement coming up, 46 people guessed I was pregnant (jeez, is getting pregnant all I ever do around here?!?), 2 people correctly guessed that I quit my job, 1 person thought I started a new band (you wish, RE!), and 1 person guessed that I got a book deal (that was my absolute favorite guess.)

I handed in my resignation letter at 9 am this morning, and I’m giving them until September 15th.  After that date, instead of working in an office all day, sitting in a classroom all night, baking cakes until 3 am, and seeing my kids whenever I can – I will no longer be sitting in the office all day.  The rest, I’ll still be doing.

I will be a full-time Student of law, Full-time Mom, and part-time cake business operator – never in that order.

Leaving my day-job means being able to finish my degree in half the time, which means spending less money on school, and a shorter time until I’m making money again.  It also means not paying out $2000 per month in daycare, which of course means being able to see my babies while they’re still babies.

People have been telling me for a long time that the amount of jobs/responsibilities I have on my plate is just crazy.  It is crazy.  People shouldn’t do this to themselves. My health and my family are suffering.

But giving up a $50,000 a year job is also crazy.  Especially in this economy. This has been the scariest decision of my entire life.  I’ve been with this company for 3 ½ years, and leaving anything you’ve done for that long can be an emotional struggle, even without the financial worry.  Additionally, I have to say, the idea of being technically unemployed is really, really hard on my Feminist conscious.  It puts me in a very unfamiliar, unsettling position of being reliant on my husband for financial support.  But this marriage is a partnership, and I went back to work 5 weeks after a cesarean so my husband could focus on school.  It’s my turn now.  I earned this, and He's the first person to say so.

We’ve managed to work out a plan that will help us survive until I’m finished with school - HOPEFULLY.  A month ago this wouldn’t have been possible, but Husband’s mom (seeing what we were going through) stepped in and offered to help us lower some of our bills.  Without her help, we’d never have been able to do this.  I also applied for a “Loss of Income” adjustment on my school loans so I should be able to take out some more money for us to live on until I’m through with my degree.  And of course I’ll make more cakes... anything I can do to keep us afloat.

Now, please send me all the love and support and well-wishes you can because I am quietly freaking the fuck out over here.  I know in my heart I made the right choice, but my head is a little harder to convince.

~TFB Out.

Planning the Great Escape

I have a lot of decisions to make in the next 5 weeks.  I’ve been needing to make them for a year, and now the deadline is quickly approaching.  I haven’t been procrastinating.  I’ve just been carefully plotting and planning the changes that need to be made so other changes can be made.  It’s a fragile house of cards over here.  Or it’s maybe more like Jenga.  One peg needs to be moved in order to make another area more stable, but if I move the wrong peg, the whole damn thing could come tumbling down.

For both my own catharsis, and for the benefit of those who don't totally understand our situation, here’s where we’re at:

I work full time + I go to school full time + I run an increasingly-busy side business.  I also have two kids, and my lower-cost childcare is about to run out soon.  For the past 9 months, my MIL has been watching the kids for a lesser amount than daycare would charge, but it was a temporary favor to help us out, and we need to find a more permanent childcare solution – fast.  Our deadline is August 1st. 

The problem is my full-time day job.  This job means that soon I’ll be footing $2000 per month in daycare costs. This job is also preventing me from finishing school at a faster pace, and is preventing me from investing more time into my cake business.  Nevermind the 10 hours a day it keeps me away from my children, and the stress it causes because they Re-Org the company once a month and I never know what my job will be when I come in on Monday morning.  I promise, that is not an exaggeration.

I don’t want to pay most of my paycheck to a daycare.  I also don’t want to work full-time AND go to school full-time anymore, and school is NOT going to be the thing I sacrifice.  I MUST finish school.  They won’t let you be an attorney unless you finish school, so my career and income (and livelihood) are completely stunted  until I get these degrees finished.  I also get paid to go to school through a bevy of hard-earned scholarships, and my family needs that money.

Ever since I was on maternity leave last summer, my plan was to ramp up my cake business so I could use that to support the family while I was finishing school and taking care of my kids.  I’ve done a good job of building up the biz in my little “spare” time – the time I’m not at work, at class, or wiping the butts of my babies – often staying up until 2 a.m. to finish cake orders.  Every night that I’m sleepily piping little details onto a cake through blurry contact lenses, I think “I’m one cake closer to quitting the job I have to wake up for in a few hours.”

The caveat in this is that running any sort of (legal) food-service business requires a commercial kitchen that can pass health inspection.  Now, my business is doing well enough to create a nice little extra cushion for us, but it is NOT doing well enough to pay for the $30,000-$50,000 it would cost to open a bakery.  The catch 22 here is that if I ramp up business, I can afford to be legal.  But in order to ramp up business, I need to spend a bunch of money we don’t have to get the business up to code.  We don’t have any sort of savings to float on, and no collateral for a business loan. The idea of taking out a business loan in this economy scares the living crap out of me anyway because we could end up losing everything.  I’m trying to get us in a BETTER position – not WORSE.

So, we have a new plan that we’re implementing immediately, and just the notion of having a PLAN is putting me in better spirits: 

Step 1: Find a commercial rental kitchen in the area that will rent by the hour (apparently this is a big thing, part-time caterers use them all the time) – rent one or two days a week so I can get my business license and pass health inspection
Step 2: Start doing the real advertising that I haven’t been able to do thus far because I wasn’t legal and didn’t want to get fined by the county
Step 3: Make enough money to pay for overhead and replace the income I’ll lose by quitting the day job
Step 4: Quit day job, thereby allowing me to raise my kids, take more classes, and keep making wedding cakes on my own schedule.

Now – of course not all this will be accomplished in the next 5 weeks, but I hope to have the process fully underway so we can ask the MIL to give us “X” amount more time before she stops watching the kids.  I would really like to be off the corporate teet by the time I have to register for classes so I know whether or not I can increase my course-load.  If we can find a way to make this work, then I’ll be done with school at least 1.5 years faster.  The obvious bi-product is that I will be happier and mentally healthier than I have been over the last stressful year.  The financial benefit is that I'll be making an attorney's salary a whole lot faster.

If we cannot make this work, I will stay at this job indefinitely, keep taking classes, keep paying mostly my entire paycheck for someone else to be with my kids, and slowly watch my health go down the toilet.  Life will be exactly as busy and insane as it has been lately, only for the next 6 or so years it will take me until I have my law degree. 

This will put me at 37.  That is the exact age my aunt was when she graduated from pharmacy school after working full-time and taking care of her children all at the same time.  The summer she graduated, just a week before she started her awesome new dream job, she dropped dead from an aneurysm.  Her body had had enough.  She got out of the shower one morning, wrapped a towel around her head, and passed away before she could get dressed.

I don’t want to be 37 when I’m done with all this.  I don’t want to be my aunt.  So I am planning my escape. 

I just hope I don’t move the wrong peg.

I Never Wanted to be a Working Mother

I absolutely hate being a Work Outside The Home Mom (WOHM) at this point in my life.  I hate it.  If you’ve ever been to my blog, or ever seen a single tweet of mine, this will not come as a huge shock to you.  So I’m going to spend this post bitching about something that has crawled under my skin, laid eggs, and hatched a giant, frothing, green-eyed monster that is unapologetically jealous and pissed off.

I will not make any apologies for however irrational my feelings are about this.  This is my view of my world as I know it, and my feelings are about ME, not about YOU.  This has all been building up since the day I realized I wouldn't be able to stay home with my first son - like we planned.  Plans?  Oh yeah, we had plans.  Smart, well-thought-out plans.  Then the economy happened.  I’d also add that the stress I’ve been feeling lately, combined with the partial cessation of breastfeeding and whatever hormonal changes may accompany that,  seems to have aggravated the post-partum depression that lurks beneath my surface, which makes TFB crankier than normal.

So here are two things I’m absolutely sick of right now:

1. SAHMs acting like they have it as hard as WOHMs.
2. SAHMS telling me it’s my “Choice” to be a WOHM.

Now, I have zero judgment about whether someone is a SAHM, WAHM, or WOHM.  Let’s get that part out of the way right off the bat.  I could not care less what somebody else does. There’s no “war” to me.  Whatever works for your family is Coolio with me.  I will never attempt to say that any one way is the “best” way to go about it – I don’t think there is a universal “best” way. 

But when either of the two aforementioned things come up, I am flat out insulted.  And that insult adds to the injury I already feel being in a situation that depresses the living shit out of me every day.  It’s a slap in the face – so I’m gonna talk about it.

First of all, being a SAHM is NOT as hard as being a WOHM, and I’m going to give you a list of reasons why. Perhaps this will make those who’d complain about it recognize what a sweet position they’re actually in.

#1 – Being SAHM is absolutely a full-time job, but going to work doesn’t mean you have a DIFFERENT full-time job – it means you now have TWO full time jobs - or more if you're like me.  That means you have to go put up with other people’s shit for 10 hours a day, then come home and do all the things you couldn’t do because you weren’t home all day (like cleaning, spending time with kids, meal planning, etc. etc.)  Those chores don’t just disappear because you’re not there!

#2 – Nobody will fire you for having a bad day as a mom.  I mean, unless you have a “somebody-call-Child-Protective-Services” kind of day, nobody is going to take that gig away from you (cause frankly, there is no 22 year old recent college graduate eyeing your job as a mother.)  I’ve seen some pretty crappy-ass moms who still don’t get fired for the lousy job they’re doing.  You don't live in fear of the moment you'll get called into the boss's office because your performance standards have slipped after being up all night dealing with two sick children at home.

#3 – Okay, being a SAHM is a job, but you don’t have to shower for it!  Yes you wake up early, but so do I.  And you don’t have to wake up at 6 am, rush around making sure the kids are taken care of/shipped off to daycare/whatever WHILE trying to shower, look presentable, and get into the appropriate business attire. You can stay in your fraking track pants all day long if you want to.  If I show up looking like a Mom, HR will have a “talk” with me.

#4 – You don’t have to pump breastmilk at work, or worry that you’ll lose your job if you do.  Enuf said.

#5 – Not everyone who works for a living has a corner office and an assistant who will bring them lattes all day.  If you think all Working Moms look like the women on the cover of Working Mother Magazine, go visit a production plant and talk to the barely-minimum-wage factory workers who stand on their feet all day and have to ask to take a bathroom break. Quit romanticizing the Working Mother role.  About zero percent of us have that corner office.  I bet your home working environment is a billion times better.

Now before you get all "but-some-women-have-no-choice-but-to-stay-home" let me say I'm not even going there in this post because I KNOW some women have no choice in that respect.  But that's not what this is about, so let's focus here people.

Secondly, I am so sick and tired of people telling me that it’s my “choice” to be a working mother.  It shouldn’t even make me mad.  I should find it hilarious.  I should think it’s funny that they live such stable, middle-class lifestyles that they cannot even fathom how it could be necessary to have two incomes to survive.  And I am outright insulted, deep in my core, when any person suggests that I’m leaving my kids every morning because I want to.  I could write, so, so much more on this, but I think I have to sum it up in with this:

NO, it is not my “choice.”  NO, we cannot afford, not even by the most creative budgeting known to man, to live on His income.  You don’t live here. You don’t know how we got here. You haven’t walked a mile in this family’s shoes. You don’t know how poor I grew up.  You don't know what I've had to do to drag myself out of poverty.  You don’t know how badly I don’t want to be there again.  And if You want to take a look at my balance sheet and figure out HOW I could “choose” to stay home, then you are 1000% welcome to do that.  But if you can’t – seriously shut the f*cking f*ck up because you don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not stupid, and if I can’t figure out a way to make something work, then it cannot be done. Not here. Not under our currently unchangeable circumstances. And to assume that everyone is in the same situation you are in is incredibly short-sighted.

This reminds me of the time the “Feminists” on the Ivillage board told me it was my fault I got Post-Partum depression because I didn’t plan my life better, and also because I didn’t anticipate that having a baby would mean having a cesarean.  Oh we silly women… always misplacing our crystal balls. Boy, maybe, just maybe, if I had been raised in any sort of stable environment I would have had another woman around to tell me what to expect when I had a baby.  But since I have no mother and no siblings, and had to endure that pregnancy without any guidance, perhaps I couldn’t have known what to expect?  It’s pretty difficult for those who “have” to understand anything about those who “have not.”  And they don’t even try.

And here’s where someone will say that it’s a “choice” to feed my kids.  Well, to me, letting my kids starve and losing the roof over our heads is NOT an option.  Not. An. Option.  If it’s an “option” for you, then call me when your kids are starving and you have no place to sleep – because until you’re in that situation, you have no way of knowing whether you really believe that’s an “option.”  You have the luxury of not having to make that "choice."

And the fact is, I have it way, way better than many Americans.  Having a child is the #1 cause of poverty spells in the United States.  I wouldn't even have health insurance if I didn't have a job - so what happens if my kid gets sick?  Now I've "chosen" to have a sick child that I can't get treatment for?  Clearly, my family is not the only one facing these situations.  We’re not in dire straits right now – but if I quit my job, that will change fast.

And that pisses me off.  I’m trapped.  I’m sad.  I want to be home with my kids.  I don’t want to work two jobs and go to school full time at night for the next 6 years anymore.  I’m angry because I ended up exactly where I didn’t want to be. I’m flailing.  I’m trying everything I can think of to change my situation.  And at the end of the day, I still can’t make it go away.  But on the average day, I deal with this fairly well.  I get up and go to work until 5 pm. I get off work and sit in class until 10 pm.  I get out of class and go home to make cakes until 2 am.  And I pack every second of family time in where I can.

But then someone tells me their life is soooooo hard being a stay-at-home mom, and I want to fracking scream.  And when I scream, they tell me that I could be a stay-at-home mom if I just “lived within my means” or planned a little better – and then, I want to break down crying, because those people are so out of touch with what my family/many families go through to try to provide the very basics for their kids.  Those familes have no idea what my down-to-the-penny Excel budget looks like each and every month.

And because they’re so out of touch, they’ll never understand.  So here’s where I stop trying to make them.

*exhale.*

Who Doesn't Like Free Stuff?

As I mentioned last week, I have a new reviews blog called The Feminist Shopper.  Each week I'm trying to do at least one giveaway to put my favorite products or services in the hands of my readers.  This week we're giving away a free card design from PaperJack Designs.  You can use the free design any time in the next 12 months, so you can save if for your holiday cards, or even your next baby's birth announcement!  The best part? Anyone from any country can play!  All you need is an internet connection to recieve the goods. 

If you have any products or services you think I should try to review, please let me know!  And please visit The Feminist Shopper to enter this week's giveaway.  Good luck!

My Little Projects...

I'm sick today, and the kids are still tossing and turning an hour past their bedtime, so this will be short and sweet.

A few weeks ago I started a reviews blog called The Feminist Shopper.  I'm reviewing my favorite things (I know, how Oprah of me!) and holding contests/giveaways to put my favorite things in the hands of my readers, when I can.  I don't have the "star power" yet to get the big companies to participate in my giveaways, but this week I got one of my favorite mom-owned businesses to cough up some free stuff for my readers.  Score.

And yesterday, Gimme Cakes (my cake business) did its first big church wedding, and that cake almost killed me.  I had a terrible snafu that rendered all my top-quality fondant useless, and with 5 hours until the wedding I had no white fondant, and a massive heart attack forming.  I had to make some quick adjustments and power through the nightmare, and in the end I dropped off a pretty bad-ass cake.  I swear though, the entire morning I was absolutely convinced I was going to end up on Cake Wrecks.  And the bad luck didn't even end when I dropped the cake off.  I got all the way home - one hour and 45 minutes after I dropped the cake off (we stopped for food) and realized that I had somehow walked out with their cake knife and server.  Oy.  So, I had to jump back in the car, race 40 minutes back to the venue, and sneak into the middle of the reception to pass the utencils to the nearest member of the wedding party I could find.

So I stressed myself straight into an illness.  I feel absolutely craptastic today.  And in the last five minutes I've managed to develop an ear ache.  Awesome.  I'm going to bed now, but you should go enter the contest to win the sweet goods from Earth Mama Angel Baby.

What a Ridiculous Day

My day started out sucky at 2 a.m. - and it has only gotten worse.  I must have done something bad for the universe to be this pissy with me.

    Sucky Incident #1 - 2:00 AM: The only three times in the last year that I have gotten a decent stretch of sleep (and by decent I mean 4-5 hours) I have awoken each time with a plugged milk duct.  The second time, I got mastitis, which is something I honestly would not wish on my very worst enemy.  The strange part is that I can easily go 6-7 hours between pumping when I'm awake without even getting all that engorged.  But g*d forbid I get an ounce of sleep.  I have come to think of plugged ducts as my punishment for getting a tiny bit more rest than the universe apparently wants me to have.

So last night I woke up at 2 a.m. with a rock hard wedge in my right breast.  I poked John and told him to go get Julesy so I could nurse him.  Well, after Julesy drained the rest of the breast, the rock hard wedge was just that much more pronounced.  I went to look in the bathroom mirror and I could actually see it then.  My boob looked half deflated.  I went back in the bedroom and told Huz to feel it and as soon as he touched it he jumped back and said "Holy crap!"  So, I jumped in the tub and started trying to work it out, like I did the first time this happened (the time I didn't get mastitis).  Luckily this time I knew exactly what I was looking for, and I located the little white sliver right away. It only took a few seconds of squeezing and it popped out, then the geiser of milk flowed behind it.  The most insane thing happened next -- it KEPT shooting out.  I wasn't milking myself at all, I just cupped my breast on either side and watched it shoot out a stream of breastmilk halfway across the tub for 8 or 9 straight minutes (I was watching the clock.)  Imagine if you filled a water balloon and stuck a tiny pinhole in it.  It would shoot out a little pin-sized stream of water until he was completely deflated.  That's exactly what my breast did.  Man, these are some weird-ass parts we females have.

After the geiser died down, I got out of the bathtub, pumped 5 more ounces, then laid in bed for another hour and a half unable to sleep.

Sucky Incident #2 - 7:30 AM:  When I woke up with Julesy this morning, I realized his eye was almost swollen shut.  It was looking kind of bruised yesterday and the day before, but we thought it might just be an irritation from allergies, and decided to keep an eye on it to see if it got worse. Well, this morning, it was much, much worse.  He looked like a boxer.  So we rushed around calling the doctor, seeing what could be done, then getting him ready to go to the doctor with Grandma while we had to go off to work.*

Sucky Incident #3 - 9:00 AM:  I get to work, open my backpack, and realize I don't have my laptop with me.  My company-issued, only-computer-I-have-at-work laptop; the laptop that I absolutely must have in order to complete any work at all.  I was so distracted by the puffy-eyed baby that I completely forgot to put my laptop in my backpack.  Since I'm all the way downtown, I know it will take me a few hours back and forth (dependant on the train schedule) to go home and retrieve it. Crap!

I called MIL to see if she was already on her way to the doctor, thinking she might be able to bring it to me.  She was already on her way, but offered to turn around and bring it to me.  Since I knew she was already running late for the doctor, and since I didn't want to make her drag the kids all the way downtown, I decided just to tell my boss about the missing laptop and see what she suggested.  Luckily she'd had the same thing happen to her some months back.  She told me that our technical center had loaners they could give me for the day - so that's what I'm typing on now.  Of course I'm missing some files I need to get some things completed, but all-in-all I can live without my own laptop for just one day.

It's 11 a.m.  How much worse could it get today?  I have a midterm tonight.  Perhaps I'll bomb it and wrap up this day on the same sour note it started on.

Wish me luck...

_______________________

*BTW, it turns out Julesy's swollen eye is from an ear infection - the infection spread from his sinuses, into his ear, and caused the fluid to build up behind his eye.  crazy. Some antibiotics have been prescribed to treat the mess.

Part-time a No-No

I just got word from my boss that the director said "No" to my request to go down to part-time in the fall.  Of course the person who was supposed to deliver this news to me (her boss) hasn't done so yet... coward.

That means I'm leaving here as soon as I can find another job.  Given this economy, that outlook is pretty grim.  But, I told them if I didn't get the part-time status then I was outta here, and obviously that didn't matter much.

Well.... Fuck 'em.

Friday. Bomb-Dropping Day.

I have decided that I am requesting part-time status at my job starting this fall.  I cannot do this to myself anymore.  Working full time, going to school full time, and raising two kids amounts to more stress than a person should be expected to handle.  I have been sick for a month straight, which is no big shock considering what I've been doing to my body.  I hate that I go days at a time without seeing my kids.  It's heartbreaking, really.  But until now there has been no other choice.  I have to go to school.  I have to work.  However, thanks to some smart budgeting and having Mother-In-Law willing to watch the kids for the last 6 months, we've managed to dig ourselves out of some of the debt we got suffocated with when "The Condo Saga" took us out at the knees.  By September, part-time employment won't mean sure homelessness anymore.  We'll just be as broke as we normally are... but we'll manage.

So, I've written a formal letter to my bosses, and I'm meeting with them later to discuss.  I'm posting it here so you all can write back and tell me how convincing it is and that I'm doing the right thing, which is what I need to hear.

In my recent years at (ABCCompany).com, I have added to my family, and returned to school full time, all while maintaining my professional commitment to this organization.  I continue to seek professional growth and learning opportunities here at (ABCCompany).com, and take great pride in the contributions I make to my team.

 

However, I feel that by continuing my current level of obligations as a full time employee, full time student, and most importantly a full time mother, I am no longer giving the best of myself to each of these areas of my life.  I feel that my employment with an organization like (ABCCompany).com is essential to my overall career growth, and is vital for the health and welfare of my family.  But my new life requires some reorganization.  I believe that I will continue to be a valuable asset to (ABCCompany).com as long as I am welcome here, and that my commitment, expertise, and productivity will only improve with a more focused work day, and a better work/life balance.  It is in the spirit of focus and commitment that I request a reduced work schedule.

 

I hereby officially request a reduction to part-time status (24 hours per week) effective September 1st 2009. I have chosen this date as it is the start of the new school year for my son and for me.  I understand that I am required to work 24 hours per week to retain my benefits, and that my base compensation will be reduced accordingly.

 

Please let me know if you would like any more information in consideration of this request.

 

Thank you,

So?  Convincing, Right?

Tuesday Update.

Random thoughts, updates, and musings for this day.

• Jules is a big, fat, healthy baby.  At his 9 month appointment this weekend, he clocked in 23 lbs, and just shy of 30 inches tall.  At this pace, he may seriously outgrow his older brother.

• I finally talked to a lactation consultant last week about my supply situation, and she made a few suggestions.  I’m on a strong dose of fenugreek and blessed thistle, and I think it’s helping.  I THINK.  If it doesn’t, I’ll be visiting a nearby compounding pharmacy to try the domperidone she suggested.

• I’ve also decided that I might continue to breastfeed past Jules’s 1st birthday, but will not stress about my supply after that.  If he gets an ounce, great, and if not, then no big deal.  I will absolutely not be pumping after that, though.  Nursing will be a comfort thing – not his sole source of nutrition anymore.  Knowing that I only have about another 2.5 more months of that helps keep me motivated.

• I really hate my job today.  I feel completely undermined and disrespected here, and I want badly to quit and never look back.  Of course, we’re living through one of the greatest economic crises my generation may ever see, so I am 1000% stuck here.  And that makes it worse.  That means they can treat me however they want, and I can’t go anywhere.  I am hog-tied.

• I feel pregnant.  I know that sounds ludicrous, and I’m suuuuurrre I’m not pregnant…. Except that I think I might be.  I told John about 10 days ago that I was feeling “funny.”  My uterus felt strange, and I felt like I was having some implantation pain.  No, we are not on birth control.  We’re using Natural Family Planning until we’re done having kids, then John will get the old snip-snap and that will be that.  But, until then, I suppose I could get pregnant whenever.  We do not WANT to be pregnant right now, but it is certainly not the worst thing in the world.  We know we want more kids.  We just hope they come in another year or two.
  
  I’m only mentioning the pregnant-feeling so that I can say “I told you so” if I do, indeed, turn up pregnant.  I’ll get to say “see! I KNEW it!!”  It would be fun to know my body that well.
  
  But I’m sure I’m not.  Pretty sure anyway.  Either the appearance of Aunt Flo or a pregnancy test will tell me this weekend.
  
  I think John really wants me to be pregnant.  I told him if we were pregnant, he’d have to quit his job and be a SAH dad (since he makes less.)  There’s no way we could afford daycare for 3 kids.  He hates his job too, so of course he likes this idea.  If we used a diaphragm, I could see him poking holes in it.

That is all for now.

Taking the Certification Plunge

So I've decided that I seriously want to become a Certified Childbirth Educator.  I talk about it enough, I may as well get the piece of paper.  And, I do think I have a little something extra to offer because I've experienced both a cesarean birth and a vaginal birth.  I don't necessarily see it as a career, but I do see it as a good thing to have on my resume when I start using my law degree to help fight for reproductive rights.  I imagine that I could teach classes on the weekends or whatnot, but I'm not totally sure how that works.  I suppose the class will tell me that!

The only workshop in the entire state of Illinois for 2009 is in February about 20 minutes away from me, coincidentally.  I just contacted the instructor about registering.  I'm pretty excited about it.  I hope there's still room in the class and that everything works out.

I also have an advanced public speaking class this semester which focuses on teaching skills, so I'm sure that will help.

After that I have to do some required reading, attend two live births, then take a test.  Sounds simple enough, right?  Here's hoping.........

Tell me if this sounds crazy...

So, lately I've been daydreaming of becoming certified, somehow, to teach what I know about VBAC'ing to the rest of the world. I feel obligated, and charged, with making sure that women know their reproductive rights.  Of course, my law degree will be applied to this fight, but that's a good 6-7 years away.

A few weeks ago I discovered something called a Certified Childbirth Educator. I think I want to do this.  I'm not sure what I'd do with it, but it seems like something I'm supposed to do.

I know there are other birth professionals out there.  Tell me, am I crazy?

Yeah, I’m like the MacGyver of Breastfeeding…

So, today I got to work and realized that I accidentally left my breastmilk cooler at home.  Oh, and all my breastmilk bottles too.  Crap.  Well, luckily I had a couple of spare bottles and caps sitting at work.  Problem?  The caps didn’t fit the bottles.  You’d think they’d all be interchangeable, but they’re not.  The Medela caps don’t fit the Lanisoh bottles.   This is problematic.

So, I pump my two bottles of milk, and then start devising a plan.  No way am I going to leave my breastmilk at work overnight – not when I absolutely need it at home for Jules the next day.  If I had thought about it sooner, I probably could have run downstairs to CVS and picked up some crappy Playtex bottles and a cooler to take everything home in.  But, that would be...

A.) A waste because the Playtex aren’t BPA free and I would NEVER store my precious breastmilk in a container that wasn’t BPA-free.  They’d go straight in the garbage after I got home - and
B.) Would cost me at least $15 for overpriced crap bottles and a cooler I’d never use again.

So, what’s a girl to do?  How do I get breastmilk home in two bottles without caps that fit?  I decided that I could put the caps on, but since they didn’t fit right if the bottle tipped over, the milk would come pouring out.  So how do I keep them cold, and keep them upright?

Then I remembered that I had a little plastic Witch’s cauldron at my desk that I kept Halloween candy in.  So I dumped out all the candy, filled the bottom with ice, carefully placed the bottles upright in the couldren, then stuffed stiff paper all the way around the bottles until they were completely secure. No way were they tipping over in there.  And since the cauldron had a little handle, I could carry it without worry!

My 20-something yr old childless co-worker looks at me as I’m filling this little candy bucket with ice and says “What in the world are you doing?”  So, I have to go about explaining how a nursing mother’s life revolves around the safe transport of breastmilk.  This poor girl has already heard way too many things about breastmilk from me.  You can see the horror mixed with confusion plastered all over her face.

So then on my way home, I was standing at the train ticket counter picking up my monthly pass, and the ticket taker jokingly says to me “Looks like you found a pot of gold there!”  I’m thinking to myself “Why yes sir, I did… A pot of LIQUID Gold!!!” 

Haaaaa ha ha ha! 

Two things that suck

1.  I'm not making enough milk despite my best pumping efforts*, plus the lactation support pills, plus the MilkMaid Tea.

2. Jules has decided to stop sleeping through the night.  2 and 4 am are now feeding time, and I am simply the only person that can get up and feed him because I'm not making enough for John to give him a bottle and I need all the nursing sessions possible in a day, even if they have to occur at 2 and 4 am.  I found out that while I was out of the house or asleep, John was giving Jules some of the free formula, and I lost my shit on him and then threw it away.  It has only remained in the house for the last 4 months because I've been too preoccupied to drive it to a donation bank.

My MIL has started suggesting that I give Jules cereal because "he's a growing boy" and "he's hungry" which is to suggest that the milk I'm making is simply not enough, or not good enough, even though this 3 month old weighs over 16 lbs SEVENTEEN (17) lbs (I just rechecked.)

I, of course, will not consider giving my 3 month old cereal because we know better.

So, long story short - I'm a ball of stress.  My whole life is consumed with finding ways to boost my supply, even though I have no time to be consumed with anything but work that I haven't done and exams I need to study for.

I'm going to be in a bad mood for the next few months.  I'm warning you.

***UPDATE - Found out Jules is eating 26 ounces of milk in a 10 hour period while I'm gone, and I've decided he is simply being over fed.  MIL is going to cut back tomorrow.  Last week he was only eating 12-13, so this is ridiculous.  It might be a growth spurt, but jeez!  26 ounces in a single workday?!?  My lord.  I still need to boost my supply though before this kid eats me out of house and home.
____________________

*pumping sessions = 1 in the morning, 3 while at work, and an extra 2-3 on class nights.  Potentially 7 in a day, which is chapping my nipples and making me cringe every time Jules latches on.

No Rest for the Wicked

My life now: leaving at 7:30 am, working all day, commuting to school, being in class all night, not getting home until 11 pm, meanwhile worrying myself sick over whether I'll be able to fit another pumping session in so I don't go dry and ruin my chance to give my son breastmilk, while being terrified that my distraction will ruin my GPA and the respect I have at my job, both of which will cost my family money, which will cause even more stress to an already financially-stressed family.

I hope one day my children realize I did it all for them.  It's not easy loving two people so much that you'll kill yourself trying to provide for them.  It's also not easy staying married to a man who screwed his own shit up so badly that you have no choice but to be in this situation.  And it's nearly impossible to do all this with a smile on your face.

What's that old saying about that which does not kill us?

Work Outside the Home Mom.

Today's the day.  I'm back at work - in big girl clothes.  I'm showered, and blow-dried, and accessorized - all things I'd only be on a special occasion if I weren't working outside the house.

And apparently I'm not missed one tiny bit.  I called home this morning and it was business-as-usual.  As long as someone is there to feed them, I guess they don't really care who it is.

So things were fine, until ten minutes ago when I got the call that Jonas had swallowed a piece of fork.  Yes.... a piece of fork.  Don't ask my why he had a plastic fork in his mouth, but he bit off a piece and swallowed it with the rest of his food.  The doctor said it was probably not a big deal, but I'll be worried sick until it passes. 

An another note, pumping is going VERY well.  We have a Mother's Room here equipped with a kick ass Medela Double Lactina (hospital grade) pump.  I pumped THREE feedings worth of breast milk in one sitting this morning, and I'm on my way over to pump some more.

I'm still trying to sort out my feelings about being back.  Once I'm re-acclimated, I'll update.

Toodles.

This just can't be happening.

I think I've been in complete denial about going back to work.  Of course I knew the date was getting close, but this is it - my last weekday home.  I feel like I'm going to throw up.

To add insult to injury, now... yes NOW we're looking for daycare.  The in-laws came over last night and announced that MIL won't be watching the boys after March.  We thought we'd have at least a year of her babysitting.  We thought she'd be home with Jonas at least until he started pre-school next year.  No, it's not like we just expected it.  She offered, and we are giving her money too.  Well, instead of having a year of not having to worry about sky high daycare costs, now we only have 7 months. This has really blindsided us financially because we were BARELY affording daycare for one kid, and now we have to figure out how to afford daycare for two kids.

And this seriously ruins our chances of buying our house.  We're renting our house right now, but the landlord wants to sell it to us and we were going to use the next year of "daycare" money to pay off our debt so we could get a decent mortgage payment this time around.  That subprime interest rate on the last one nearly bankrupt us, and we're not going down that road again.

So now, we won't be able to buy anything.  I'm actually thinking that we should move into an apartment or something.  The idea of that depresses me straight into insanity because I already KNOW how much our lives sucked when we lived in that condo.  i had to be medicated for crying out loud, it sucked so much.  We have been happier in this house than we've ever been anywhere, but with this brand new information, I don't see how we can stay here.

I want to know how the fuck people afford for one spouse to stay home with the kids.  Most of the moms I know are SAHM - what the hell do their husbands do? 

Well, I won't get into the series of fucked up events that led us to having kids that we aren't able to raise ourselves... suffice to say this is NOT the way I planned it. 

So now, what the hell do I do?  How do we pay for $2000 a month in daycare and ever get out of debt?  Where are we going to end up living?  How am I going to survive leaving these babies AGAIN - just to go work a job I hate, just to pay for the daycare that I don't want to put them in?

Oh yes.  We're living the American Dream here, aren't we.

***UPDATE:  The in-laws have now agreed to hold to the original commitment and give us the full year... so we won't need childcare until next August.  That certainly helps the situation.  Either way, I've applied for some work at home things, and when this year is up I'd like to have found a way to stay home, at least PART of the time, with these babies.  That's a long shot since I do make the majority of the money in this house... but we'll see what I can pull off. 

Going back, scared and ill-prepared.

I go back to work one week from today.  I cannot believe my time at home is nearly over.  This sucks, hardcore.

I feel so ill-prepared, in so many ways.  I'm not emotionally ready to leave my children.  I'm not mentally ready to deal with work related crap.  And I'm not physically ready to look the part of a working professional.

I have nothing to wear to work.  I'm serious.  Nothing.  I went to the mall yesterday with John thinking that we'd pick up a few things from the cheap-o stores I USED to like shopping at.  Well, thanks to the two kids and this lovely spare tire they gave me, clothes look absolutely terrible on me now. 

I used to love to shop.  Back when I fit into everything and didn't have any weird body flaps, that is.

Now, shopping is something akin to Chinese water torture.  I see a pair of pants and think "Wow!  Super cute!" - then I try them on and think "holy shit you are a fat nasty turd of a woman."  Then I get all angry and bitter, and the cookie stand starts to feel like a much funner place to hang out than the Gap.

The other issue is that I really can't afford to buy a new wardrobe.  It's called UNpaid maternity leave people, and the budget I laid out for myself has suffered greatly due to me overspending in the first 6 weeks of my leave.  Now I have to choose between a desperately needed haircut, OR a pair of jeans to wear back to work.  In reality, I shouldn't be buying either cause we could use that money for something else.... like paying down the credit card debt I got us into back when I used to enjoy shopping.

Eh.... I know I could try thrift stores, but a woman with two kids in tow doesn't have a heap of time to dig through the racks to find the one unstained thing that may fit her.  A friend just recently told me about Plato's Closet - but the one near us just moved far away and I ain't spending buckets of gas money to drive to its new location.  It's hopeless.  I'm going back to work in pajamas and old maternity shirts.

Whining time over... Julesy needs a boob.

Day 1 of the New Work Schedule

Today’s my first day of the strange new “modified bed rest” schedule.  I work in the office from 8-12, then at home from 1-5.  Being in the office a mere 4 hours a day might sound like heaven, or like I’m getting off easy, but that is certainly not going to be the case.  This will be just like my Business Law class last fall. 

See, I thought I would make the fall semester easier on myself by taking one of my classes online.  Yeah.  Right.  What you find out is that because the class is online, the professors expect 10 times more out of you.  With my on-campus class, I did my homework in about an hour right before class each Tuesday. There was one assignment a week and it didn’t even require me to read the textbook. 

In sharp contrast, my online Business Law course required reading 30-40 pages each week and answering 5 long essay questions at the end.  THEN there was a quiz every week, a huge midterm exam, 120 question final exam, and a 10 page final paper.  Then all the while you had to be logging in to Blackboard every day to respond to brand new case study questions the professor came up with.  I had to bust my ass to keep my A.

So, the HR department at my company seems to be taking the same attitude that my Business Law professor did.  “You’re at home working, huh???  Well, prove it.  Here are 10 projects to complete by the end of week 1.”

Now, my manager is very, very cool about all this.  She even told me today that she doesn’t really care what I’m doing while I’m at home, but I know I’m going to have to go to great lengths to prove to senior management and HR that they made the right choice by letting me have this modified schedule.  Plus, I don’t want to screw this up for any coworkers who could also benefit someday from this setup.  You could say that I’m setting a precedent, and paving the way for other maternity-bound women.  This is what new feminism is all about.

“TFB: Taking One for the Team Since 1978.”

Never so true as now.

Cause I’m Important Like That

Sooooo...... cause I'm important like that, I get to go to Washington D.C. in January, paid for by the cum-po-nay.  And John's gonna shack up with me in my incredibly nice Westin Hotel (with a view of the White House) cause it's the week of our anniversary and.... well.... why not?

So, I shouldn't neglect to mention that while I'm there I will be hosting training sessions with the Washington Post at posh restaurants, and rubbing elbos with uber-important (well, uber-important to my career) people.  That's how I roll these days.

I've never been to D.C. and neither has John, so I really hope I can take a break from being oh-so-important to do some sight-seeing.  We're going to be within a short walk from all the cool stuff.

Yippee for jobs that fly you places, put you up in fancy-pants hotels, and feed you.  The only time anybody in the 'rock biz' ever did that for me I had to put up with Courtney Love's shit at the same time.  Not sure if the hotel on Sunset Blvd and the measly $40 per diem was worth that nonsense.

This is a way better deal.  FB out.

Still a Rock Star.

Who's the only person you know that could get promoted while on maternity leave?!?!?

Yep. ME!

My boss wants me to move into Ad Serving, which is a way more complicated and specialized job than my current position. I'm going to learn so much!!!! And, while we haven't discussed any money yet, I'm sure that the position pays more, or at the very least I'll be in for a generous raise next year.

That guy loves me! He wrote me every week telling me how much they missed me and how everyone was yelling at him because he wasn't doing my job right.

yee-haw.

ROCK ON!!!!

Started my new job today... think I'm gonna like it there alot.

PLUS!!! When I was filling out my benefit forms I found out that my pregnancy WILL be covered by my new insurance, which starts a week from today!  FUCK YEAH!!!  Apparently it's Illinois State Law that I cannot be denied medical coverage and pregnancy cannot be considered a "pre-existing condition" like it is in almost every other state.  ALSO!  I get to stay with my doctor too, because again, IL law prohibits the insurance company from making you change doctors when you're pregnant.  I effing love our governer.  Blagojovich rules!

Thats all.  I'm tired.  Must walk dog and then sleep on couch.  zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

YEEEEEEEE HAAAAWWWW!!!! I GOT A JOB!

You're looking at the new Associate Producer for Cars.com!  I got the offer today just a few hours after my second interview!  I start April 24th (two weeks from today).
I'm making more money than I've ever made, and my benefits start May 1st!!!!   But the super-coolest part is that I work 2 floors away from Ms. Gina, so we'll be window shopping and lunching alot.  She's actually the one who referred me to the job.

I went straight to the Apple Store and bought myself a little celebration/early birthday present.  I've been getting into this Garageband home recording stuff and I needed an audio interface to really get things rolling.  I told John that if I got a job soon I was treating myself to it, and that's the first thing I did today.  I'll be a recording fool for the next two weeks until I start my job.
YEEEEEEE HAAAAWWWWWW!!!

I'm going to sleep so well tonight.  And tomorrow I'm going to split my time between taking the dog to the lake and doing some more recording.  From now on, I don't have to spend my days stressed out and looking for a job.

Exhale.

Motherfucker.

Despite the fact that Loyola told me last Tuesday that they would let me know about the job by last Friday, I still haven't effing heard anything.  Nothing. Not one way or the other. I am beyond frustrated.

But, in a cruelly coincidental way, the recruiter from other job I was interviewing for two weeks ago, the one I didn't get, called yesterday and left a voicemail saying the company has another position they want to consider me for.  Of course, I can't ever get ahold of the guy.  It took several days of phone tag to get an interview last time.  And if they want me to come in for another interview, I'm screwed.  Well, literally.  The pregnancy is impossible to hide now.  And I'm sure they're not going to hire me looking as pregnant as I do.

It's all just a big, cruel, waste of my time.  Days of phone tag, then days of waiting for the interview, and then a second interview, then a several more days of waiting to find out that I didn't get the job, or not getting a response at all (I hate you Loyola, you inconsiderate buttholes).  4 weeks have passed and still no damn job.
Please explain this to me.  You're a recruiter, you know that the person applying obviously needs a job.  So WHY WHY WHY do you take your sweet fucking time through the interview process?  If you don't want them, just fucking tell them.  And if you do, you better tell them quick before some other company, with a more considerate recruiter, snaps them up. 

Yes, I know.. bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch.  That's all I ever do now.  But trust me, as soon as there's something positive to write about, I'll write about that.  This period in my life is the most frustrating I've ever been through.  I'm sick of waiting for shit.  I'm sick of not being able to do certain things because I'm in pregnancy limbo.  I'm sick of fucking recruiters that think they can waste your time.  I'm sick of being scared to get any bigger because of how it will affect my job prospects.  You can't have a happy pregnancy when you're terrified every day that it's going to keep you from getting hired somewhere...which will keep you from paying your outrageous mortgage...which will eventually cause you to lose your home, and then where's the kid gonna sleep?  You gotta have a home for a baby.  But the baby is going to cause us to lose our home if I don't get an effing job soon.

See, I'm completely freaking out.