are things complicated yet?

Look, I tried to like Vampire Diaries but I think it's just kind of dumb and I can't watch it any more

I do this thing where I go in phases of extreme productivity where I get All The Things Done followed by weeks-long stretches where I spend my evenings watching questionable television about teenage vampires, with an iPad on my lap, and a slice of chocolate cake at my side, getting absolutely nothing of importance done.

(I am currently in about week 4 of a vampire/chocolate cake phase.)

My friend Courtney used to ask me, "What are you doing tonight?" and she would ask me this on like, a Monday, which is traditionally a non-drinking day for single people in their early twenties, so my usual response would be, "Um, I don't know?" Courtney always had some kind of plan for her after-work hours. Paint her nails, organize a cabinet, research something, make a curtain, watch a specific movie, make something new for dinner, go to bed early, etc.

She planned out her off time in advance and I started doing the same thing and it was kind of fun and nice to have A Thing to look forward to in my evenings rather than getting home and just laying on the sofa for three hours. (I totally sat on the sofa for hours at a time anyway [and still do!], but now it was The Thing and I looked forward to it all day, which somehow made it BETTER.) Sometimes, The Thing even required a trip to Target for craft supplies or nail polish or whatever and that was also kind of fun.

I picked up on this habit of hers and I've been silently planning my evening hours for about ten years. I like to stew about what I'm going to do that evening and consider my options all morning (or even days before) and when I decide (even if I decide on vampires and chocolate cake) it's like this delightful little carrot waiting for me at about 8 PM.

"If I can get through this meeting/commute/pile of dishes/whiney child, I can do XYZ!"

Sometimes, The Thing is ambitious like "Sew Kitchen Curtains" and sometimes it's "Open A Bottle Of Wine As Soon As The Children Go To Bed." But the point is there's always SOMETHING (productive or not) to look forward to and that's the part I like.

Anyway, I go through phases with my selections. These days I'm watching Vampire Diaries but I read ahead on Wikipedia and now I feel bored and like it's not moving fast enough and there's too much pesky character development. I think my new project is going to be a huge, giant, toy purge. I can only do it in the evenings so the children can't see me donating/throwing away their toys, but we have seriously reached Maximum Capacity with toys. There are four plastic bins in Claire's room because there is simply no place else to put them. Charlotte has also outgrown a lot of baby toys and there are even more toys with missing or broken parts, plus lots of toys nobody plays with that need to move along to their next home.

(This is making me think of Toy Story and how sad the toys must be because I'm going to pitch them. Surely THEY KNOW, right? They have to know. Too bad, toys!)

Anyway, I was wondering what YOU all do after everyone is home from work and dinner has been eaten and children are in bed, pets fed, cows milked, etc. and you have some time of your own. I am about to abandon Vampire Diaries and the toy purge can't take me more than two days, and then I'll need some new, exciting ideas, and I would very much like to just copy you. And, does anyone else do this "wheeeee, it's finally MY time" thing? I realize it might read a little OCD, but I do keep the whole thing loose and easy and I'm not militant about it AT ALL. I just like to look forward to things!

What I Keep In My Freezer

I'm a huge fan of freezer meals, which is somewhat surprising as I am not a fan of leftovers. Even more than I dislike leftovers though, I am reallllly not a fan of dishes, and a freezer meal lets me have a tasty meal for pretty much zero effort and zero dishes, which is basically how they became my favorite kind of meal.

When Charlotte was born my mom brought us an entire cooler full of frozen meals. (It is the best baby gift we've ever received.) Chicken Parmesan, Pot Roast, Beef Bourguignon, Beef Stroganoff, Chicken Piccata, Lasagna, Enchiladas....all packaged into two-serving ziploc bags. It was genius. All I'd have to do is remember to fetch one from the freezer before 1p, set it on the counter for a few hours to defrost (overnight in the fridge works well too), stick it in the oven to warm and TA DA DINNER IS SERVED for about four total minutes of actual work.

(If I was feeling very fancy I might heat up a bag of frozen vegetables. So, nine minutes of meal prep on fancy nights.)

This sounds kind of bland and boring (after all: FREEZER MEALS) but it was AWESOME! Some things freeze really well! We were super sad when all of the Grammie meals were gone. I figured out the key is to add a few fresh toppings or condiments to the frozen entree. Then the frozen meal starts to look and taste like I just made it: it's not all frozen like a Lean Cuisine, there's fresh stuff on there too, adding lots of flavor and texture. For example:

Frozen Chicken Parmesan: Boil up some noodles, grate parmesan on top of the whole thing, crack some pepper, pinch some basil from the plant in the yard. Add a salad. 

Frozen Pot Roast: Boil some egg noodles and add a (frozen) twice-baked potato. Add some salad! You probably still have a a lot left in that giant box of lettuce from Costco that only cost $3.

Frozen Chicken Piccata: Make some rice, or if you forget to make rice because rice is kind of a bitch that way since it takes thinking about in advance, make some couscous because it only takes four minutes and is very forgiving. Grate parmesan over your whole plate. (Really, freshly grated parm goes MILES towards improving ANY meal.) Add a bag of frozen vegetables or the ubiquitous $3 salad that makes seven nights of salad plus some lunches. (Very economic buy there, the giant box of Costco salad.)

See? It doesn't SOUND very blah Freezer Meal, does it? It sounds TASTY.

Now, the best thing about the meals last year is I didn't actually have to MAKE any of them the first time. When they ran out and we'd developed a taste for freezer dinner and its simplicity, I tried to figure out what I wanted to re-stock with. I've been penciling in "Freezer Meal!" about twice a week for a year and it's so awesome and it really keeps us from eating out on hurried nights where nobody wants to actually COOK but everyone would like to EAT.

Here's what I usually have in the freezer, and most everything lets me have dinner on the table in under 20 minutes (assuming I have remembered to defrost in advance).

Southwestern Egg Rolls

I'll make these for dinner and only heat up the 4 or 6 we eat that night. I put the rest on wax paper, on a cookie sheet, and stick it in the freezer. In the morning I collect them into a plastic bag and they live in the freezer that way. They take about 20 minutes to heat through (I stick them in the oven frozen) and I top with sour cream, salsa, guac, sliced avocado, halved cherry tomatoes, or whatever tex-mex type condiments float my boat (or, more realistically, whatever I find handy in the fridge that day). Occasionally, I'll double it and make a LOT of egg rolls.

I modify the heck out of this recipe. I've added hatch chiles (which I also buy in bulk each August and keep frozen), diced red pepper, left out the cheese entirely, done a mix of black and pinto beans and they're delicious any way I make then. So, tailor to your tastes. These are pretty hard to screw up.

Enchiladas (Red Ones and Green Ones [I use the recipe on a can of Old El Paso Green Enchilada Sauce])

We love enchiladas. Add some salsa, sour cream, or sliced avocado after you heat them up and it's a legit Mexican Fiesta Night. Or, don't add those things because you don't have them since TOMORROW is Walmart day, and guess what? They're still delicious. I don't add cheese to mine unless guests are coming over, and I usually add black beans, red peppers and hatch chiles (to both versions). Sometimes I heat them in the oven, sometimes in the microwave. Pair with a salad (Seriously, leafy greens all week for only $3) or a bag of those frozen Chipotle Vegetables from Costco, which are my new favorite thing.

Twice-Baked Potatoes

These freeze SO WELL. I bake four or six potatoes, scoop out the insides, mash up with green onions, salt, pepper and sour cream, stick in the freezer on a cookie sheet and then keep in a plastic bag. (We'll eat two the night I make them.) They're awesome. It FEELS kind of fancy, but I didn't have to cook them that day!

Pot Roast

It's so easy to make Pot Roast and it's SO GOOD. I pair mine with a twice-baked potato since I agree with Ree that baking the potatoes in the pot makes them mealy. Heats up in the microwave like a dream. Make a salad. BOOM, you have dinner.

Pizza Crust

You definitely have to find a few hours to make pizza crust, since it requires a bit of babysitting, but it's so worth it because pizza is so easy and you can use up all the random things in the fridge. I make two recipes at a time, which gives me four crusts. The dough is ready to use as soon as I defrost it and hello, everyone loves pizza. Also goes well with....salad. (WE EAT A LOT OF SALAD.)

Herbed Risotto with Carmelized Onions

This recipe makes enough risotto to feed about six adults. It's a GIANT PAN of risotto. Thusly, I always freeze the leftovers. I do not put chicken in mine because I kind of dislike chicken these days and it's a lot of extra steps and...I think the risotto is amazing on its own. When I heat it up, I add fresh parmesan, fresh herbs and freshly cracked pepper. I make a salad with it. This is a no-stirring recipe, winning it major points in my world.

Burgers

I finally realized we do not need to each eat a half-pound turkey burger when we make burgers. Because the thing is, turkey comes in one-pound packages so we always felt like we have to use it all up. NO MORE. I make 1/3-pound burgers (flavored with whatever), cook two and freeze one. Two rounds of this and I have a freezer-ready meal that Chris still has to cook, but then I don't have to touch raw meat or do any prep. WIN! Add frozen sweet potato fries.

Red Pepper Pasta Sauce

Costco sells a six-pack of red peppers for a sometimes not-jaw-dropping price and when they do, I scoop them up and make this sauce. I'll sometimes actually make the chicken parm along with it (this recipe is very good and I've made it for years), but this sauce on just noodles or tortellini is what I really like. Homemade pasta sauce (even when frozen) is always just SO MUCH BETTER than jarred to me. Sometimes I run an immersion blender through the sauce to make it less chunky.

So, that's how we do Freezer Dinner at my house. Anyone else keep a stocked freezer? I'm always looking for new things to keep up from getting bored, so please share if you do!

7 Quick Takes: Dallas, Stokke, Pot Roast

1. Jennie and I went to a screening of TNT's new show, Dallas, last night.

The invitation said business casual but there were women there in floor-length gowns with sequins, men in very nice suits, model/reality television types in obviously styled outfits whom I FELT like I should know, but I did not because I just don't watch a lot of TV. It was very pseudo-fancy, is what I'm saying. There was a red carpet, which was hilarious because they told US to walk on it, and HA HA HA this is the silliest event I've ever been to, and I have been to a lot of schmoozy, uppity events with self-important people.

As you might imagine, we had a great time people-watching and making comments to ourselves.

The show is terrible, by the way, and I wonder if they had the premiere in Dallas on purpose, to keep it away from Los Angeles and its far more critical eyes. I mean, I will watch almost anything with bemused enjoyment (after all, I was out on the town away from my kids!) and this was just terrible writing, terrible acting, and even the production was uninspired. It was boring. I wanted to go home.

It felt disjointed and trite at times, with two characters meeting at Cowboys Stadium, on the field, on the star, to discuss their evil plans. That's...not really a place you go to discuss evil plans, all casual-like. I get that you wanted to show the stadium in the pilot (and I am SURE Jerry was ALL OVER THAT IDEA), but perhaps ten more minutes of creative thought would have resulted in something more believable/natural/organic. It feels like there was a lot they could have done with the amazing story they already had and they turned it into something really boring. I mean, even the clothes were BLAH. It was not for me.

It started later than scheduled and we left half-way through the screening. Yo, we live in the suburbs. Some people have to get home at a reasonable hour.

2.  The baby was waking up at lot at night because she was losing her binky through the crib slats. I put the bumper back in and then next day she slept until 830. Today she slept until 7. Oh, crib bumper, you are my new best friend.

3. We've had some high winds here and two days ago I backed out of the garage and found this:

Yeahhhhhh. That's half a Bradford Pear tree in my front yard. We called the tree guy and he said that the split had weakened the remaining branches a great deal and the tree was not salvageable. If we left it, and it split again (which it would) it would fall on the house. On his recommendation, we had him take the entire tree out and now my front yard is very strange looking. That makes two trees we've cut down this year, leaving only the scrappy Magnolia.

4. I'm making pot roast for dinner.

5. I am going to buy another Stokke high chair, because Charlotte is getting to an age where she can sit in it and I would be VERY EXCITED to take this piece of shit Chicco Polly to the curb (SO HARD TO CLEAN OMG). Now, we already have one Stokke Tripp Trapp, that used to be mine when I was a kid. It's kind of a natural/cherry color. A smart person might get another one in the same hue, but I kind of want this green one.

Am I crazy? I mean, I expect to have this chair for....the rest of my life. These chairs last forever. My grandchildren will eat at them, just as my mother's grandchildren do. It matches the color scheme I'm going for in my kitchen these days. I just...I dunno, I like the green! I think it would look fun! I dunno, what do we think? Crazy? Imprudent? Or, Very Stylish and Brave Of Me? I have not mentioned my green chair idea to Chris yet, but I'll bet he votes Safe, Neutral Color Chair. What I'd REALLY like to do is buy TWO green chairs and send the neutral one back to my mom's house, so she can have two matching chairs and I can have two matching chairs, but I am not sure I feel like spending $400 on TWO CHAIRS FOR MESSY CHILDREN OMG. We'll start with one.

For comparison, the Neutral Chair we already have. (Boring! It's so boring!)

6. I know I already told you I love my Jack Rogers sandals, but two weeks later I STILL LOVE THEM. They're really comfortable and I'm not having any wearing-in issues AT ALL which I expect when I spent $100+ on what is basically a shiny flip-flop. I've been wearing them almost every day and they are certainly elevating my (rather extensive) collection of Old Navy dresses. I'm already dreaming about other colors I'd like to own.

7. I took this picture a few days ago and it makes me laugh so much.

Room Makeover: My Bedroom (And Kind Of The Bathroom, Too)

For years, I never made the bed. Like, EVER. (Do you make your bed every day?)

In my mind it totally DID NOT matter, because nobody was going to see it. I mean, why not use those precious moments in a hurried morning to load the dishwasher or do a chore that MATTERS? (You know, if I'm going to do a chore in the morning before work which HA HA NO, that never happened.) I figure I spent less than one hour, conscious, in my room per day. I woke up and went to work and didn't really go back in that room until it was time to sleep. It was not a hanging-out room. I wasn't even going to see the dumb bed until it was time to un-make it, so what's the point of actually MAKING it in the first place?

(Research like this validated my thoughts on the topic.)

(Warning: That link has a Very Scary, Intensely Magnified Bug Photo.)

Anyhoodle, my thoughts on the topic started to change when we moved to a house with the master bedroom downstairs and kid bedrooms upstairs, which forced us to naturally spend more time downstairs, nearby and in our room.

Then we had another baby and put the changing pad/station on our dresser, because who wants to go upstairs (after labor and delivery!) every time a diaper needs to be changed? No. I don't think so. We were in and out of the room a lot, as one might expect with a newborn. I started to (begrudgingly) make the bed every day, which actually means, "Throw the duvet up in the air and smooth it out as fast as I can." The lumpy sheets were making me insane and since I was dealing with a refluxy baby in that same room, it needed whatever (free, fast) feng shui I could manage. Making the bed was kind of a big deal to me for several months. It transformed the room! Good enough for now.

THEN I quit my job and I was staying at home for waaaaaay more hours than I used to. Some days I was staying at home for ALL THE HOURS. I was spending a crap ton of time in my bedroom changing diapers and nursing a baby (the glider was in there) and trying to get a baby down for a nap (she slept in a pack and play for MONTHS in our room). Sometimes, I even slept in my room! (Not a lot.) My desk was also in there, so if I wanted Quiet Internet Time, guess where I was spending it?

IN MY ROOM, YOU GUYS. I NEVER, EVER LEFT MY FRAKKING ROOM. IT WAS HORRIBLE. I spent a lot of time thinking,

"This room is actually very, very ugly. Ugh, I want to leave this room right now."

I was still making the bed (still new to me! still a big deal!), but LORDY I had not spent a dime decorating in here since about 2005, which was the middle of last decade, in another HOUSE.

Man, this is a really long lead up to a picture of my new duvet, which I am somehow calling a Whole Room Makeover. (I AM SORRY. I just feel like I have to EXPLAIN how I got to the picture I can't believe I'm about to post.)

OKAY, THE BEFORE PHOTO

This is such a sad, boring decor photo, but this is how my room looked for two years in this house and for six years at the old house. I mean, I know it's no van down by the river, but it's also not anything fun or interesting or PRETTY. 

UGLY ROOM ANALYSIS AND FURTHER EXPLANATIONS (I AM SORRY, BUT I HAVE TO EXPLAIN SOME MORE)

I hate this furniture. The wrought iron look is just...not for me. At all. But Chris came into our marriage with this furniture (woo! free!) and this room has never been a spending priority. So, we sort of try to ignore the ugly. This worked for a long time because we didn't spend much time in here, but lately that kind of brainwashing isn't working as well.

The duvet is a Marimekko print from Crate and Barrel (2005, I think, but they still sell it in different colors). I liked it for a long time, but in this room it felt so faded and washed out and also it was ooooold and I was tiiiiired of it. The whole setup is very sad and pathetic with only our two pillows (one is actually on the floor!). I never hung anything above the bed because I figured we'd get new furniture at some point and we all know where that budget conversation went so this Giant Expanse Of Blank Wall just kept existing, all Ugly and Boring and In My Face and killing my soul.

And then one day I decided to throw some money at the problem. Literally, I opened a Pottery Barn catalogue, saw what I wanted and bought it THAT INSTANT. This is the best impulse purchase of my life, people.

PRETTY AFTER EXPLANATION AND ANALYSIS

I bought a new duvet and a crap ton of pillows in a dreamy palm print and some of those fluffy pickstich shams. Part of my strategy with the pile of pillows was to try and cover up that ugly ass wrought iron scrolly-headboard. And, it kind of worked! I hardly ever think about it these days! I am thinking about maybe some kind of bench or chest for the foot of the bed, to perform similar visual-blocking miracles. There is a cedar chest in Claire's room that I am thinking of requisitioning for this purpose.

This beachy pillow cost too much but I LOVE IT.

I had some canvas wraps printed (at Costco!) for over the bed. They're 16 x 20's and I thought they might be too small for such a big space, but I actually really like them there. At this point, Claire BEGGED ME to "be in a picture with her picture." What a stinking HAM she is.

THEN I got really nutty at Target one day and decided I LOVED the brighter green color in the duvet and what the BATHROOM really needed was a makeover too. (I am really good at spending money.) I got some new hand towels.

And then I got a new bathmat. What I really wanted to do was rip the room to the studs and start over again, but that actually costs more than a bathmat and hand towels (Crazy! I know!), so I quit while I was still under $40 for the room and actually, it makes me notice the 1997 brass-colored everything a lot less when I have nice hand towels to look at, so that's a win in my book.

This is kind of a boring picture, but I also finally hung some prints that I got for Christmas (about Maui, of course). (I LOVE THESE PRINTS and his whole Hawaii-themed shop of original artwork. LOOOOOVE!)

So, that's what I've been spending money and time on this past month. Wheeee! 

Cards: Flimsy Paper or Emotional Declarations?

Are you a Card Person?

That is, a person who sends a lot of cards, for a lot of holidays, to a lot of people? And, in return, enjoys receiving cards from a variety of people to celebrate/mark different days? Perhaps you have maybe felt hurt or emotionally put out over NOT receiving a card from a certain person?

Or, conversely, has a relationship ever improved because someone sent you a card? (In this case I am talking about a card without apologetic/forgiving/meaningful original words, which I would describe more as a letter. [Which could be IN the card, but would be different from simply A Card With Only A Signature, which is what we are talking about today.]) Any of these are the kind of behavior I'd define as belonging to a Card Person.

I'm not a Card Person. I enjoy finding them in the mailbox, but I RARELY send actual birthday cards or any other cards. I do not frequent the Card aisle. I do not have a Card Drawer or Box or Stockpile, contrary to Hallmark's urgings about Cards being absolutely necessary (and thus stockpilable!) for after the apocalypse.

I never have a panicky thought of, "OH NO I HAVE TO SEND A CARD!" To me, no rational person would judge me on such a trivial thing, because it's just A CARD. They fall in the category of compliments for me: I enjoy receiving them, and sincerely appreciate them, but I do not expect them or assign meaning to my relationships via Cards. 

I don't want to sound like I think, "Oh, a stupid Card," whenever I receive one, because I don't think that AT ALL. I LOVE getting fun mail and it makes me smile and feel warm and fuzzy and I put all of our cards on the mantle and look at them for several weeks and then I usually keep them in a box (especially cards the girls get). I think it's sweet and nice that someone took the time to send me one, particularly because I know what a string of errands it can be to get one in the mail. But I have never, ever, thought more or less of someone for the lack of or presence of A Card.

Moxie has a post today that kind of highlights this idea. The woman in question sent her MIL a Mother's Day card, but the MIL did not send HER a Mother's Day card (quelle horreur!) and, well, she is offended about the lack of card. Which must obviously mean Other (Bad?) Things about their relationship.

There are a lot of comments over there about the nature of mother/mother-in-law/daughter/daughter-in-law relationships and who "deserves" the card/mention and who "owns" the holiday and I'm all,

"Maybe the MIL isn't a Card person and this whole made-up situation is something she is entirely oblivious to? IT IS JUST A CARD."

Cards are just SO NOT on my radar of ongoing things I need to pay attention to. I don't send ANYONE a birthday card (or a whatever card) because cards are not a way I primarily express love/affection/friendship. When I feel stamp-and-mailbox inclined (RARELY), I am much more a fan of the random card or postcard, sent for no reason.

Perhaps this comes down to Love Languages? Mine is Words of Affirmation, which maybe explains why I'm ambivalent about cards? I don't know. I'm just not A Card Person! Don't hate me!

I tried to embed a simple survey, because I suspect I'm in the minority on this whole Card thing, but I can't make it work and the children are not pleased with me. So, here's a link instead. I KNOW, A WHOLE EXTRA CLICK.But, I have a feeling if you are A Card Person you will be wanting to let me know about it. In my experience, Card People feel very strongly about Cards.

Click here to take survey

Why do the worst photo shoots always return the best pictures?

We took some pictures last week, with our very awesome and fantastic photographer Angela Majerus. She's shot both girls since they were babies and I was fortunate to find her through the obsessive googling that only a first-time pregnant woman does in the middle of the night. Her work basically decorates every wall in my home.

The children were...uncooperative. (To put it very nicely.) There was not a lot of smiling, a whole bunch of whining, a pair of lost shoes, crying, and scowly faces. I was sure the shoot was a disaster. We were already planning the re-shoot.

And then Angela sent me these photos and I died. 

Oh, these girls. My heart. 

All photos by Angela Majerus Photography.

Transition

I stayed at my job for two and a half years after Claire was born, and resigned after Charlotte arrived. I've been at home with the girls for a year now. I've done two versions of parenting (and there are THOUSANDS of versions): working out of the home (with one child) and not working/staying at home (with two children).

I'd like to think it gives me some perspective and clarity on really crappy days, but the annoying truth is it doesn't matter if it's a three-year-old or a gigantic corporate ego that's mad at me and making me do dumb things. Both are crappy and both make me want to stab my eyes out. Each day for the past three years, when I make it to bedtime? I give myself a big high-five. The exact same feeling of relief washes over me, desk job or not.

PHEW. I MADE IT. POUR ME A GLASS OF WINE.

***

This has been a big year of transition for me: I became a mother of two and a few weeks later tucked my career onto a shelf. It's been...interesting. Enlightening. Humbling. Oh-so-very humbling.

I sometimes dislike being in the house all day, picking up after everyone, and not having time with adults to talk in self-important acronyms. I understand these things go with the SAHM territory, I do, but mostly I wake up every day and think,

"I AM LIVING THE DREAAAAAAM!"

Lest anyone think I'm looking at this one-sided, I did have days in my previous, high-heeled, life where I woke up and also had that thought. (The day I departed to The Bahamas for a beachside photo shoot comes to mind.) But, (HUGE HUGE BUT) it has been a gigantic mental transition to get to this point now, in this new, holy-crap-there-are-two-of-them, life.

***

I spend most of my days enjoying not being on a schedule. I behave as if I am still on vacation, as if I'll be called in to my office at any moment. The idea that I can do whatever I want, whenever I want is so very NOVEL to me. I think about Not Being On A Schedule a lot, an embarrassing amount, actually. The Schedule, for me, was my ultimate enemy for a long time and now I can't stand rigid schedules, so we just don't have one. I avoid most activities or events that might require a complex daily schedule. I just can't do it. 

Every day I do exactly what I would do if I was on vacation from my cubicle job, and the joy and delight of this idea is never lost on me. It's awesome. I spend time with my kids. We run necessary errands. I go to the Y and run on a treadmill. I take yoga classes with elderly people. I do a lot of laundry. I bathe children. I struggle to get them to follow directions. I break up fights. I kiss boo-boos. I make unwearable skirts when the children go to bed. I think about trying on those expensive Lemon-something pants everyone keeps talking about.

I do the same things I did while I was working, but I have so much more time to do them and a dramatically more available mental space. That part is nice.

***

At first, I didn't miss my job at all. The baby was all-consuming and for three months I did the, "sleep when you can, just get through today and tackle tomorrow with lots of coffee," thing. That was fine. Expected, even. Everyone does that.

For months 3-6 though, I really struggled with how to let go and turn off, ignore, or redirect the businessy-creative part of my brain. I had a lot of anxiety about wasting time, about not being able to do everything, at not being able to somehow cobble together the perfect blend of SAHM and WAHM that I felt like I wanted, needed, and (most importantly) OWED myself. I spent hours silently pondering the shit-storm that must be in my future.

Nobody will hire me again.

I'll forget everything I know.

I'll be irrelevant. 

And, whoa. I don't care who you are or what you do, nobody likes to think she's on track to being IRRELEVANT. Being irrelevant means you aren't even good for party conversation.

I spent time looking for a new job. I thought about taking on some big personal projects. I explored freelancing and contracting. I began to mentally copy-edit signs at the park. I nitpicked in-store POP. I would roll my eyes at commercials I knew could be better and more effective. I spent months trying to figure out how to be a stay-at-home-mom AND retain my professional identity and skills without actually doing anything remotely professional. (I love an impossible problem, oh yes I do!)

I had never thought of myself as defined by my career, never would have admitted that to anyone at all, but it turns out I LIKED telling people I worked in advertising. I LIKED the flash of recognition when people realized they'd seen my work. And I really liked the feeling of sole ownership that came with doing something by myself, away from my family, that I was good at and proud of, that was mine-all-mine. I liked that a lot. 

But at this specific moment in my life, I did not have the time or sincere desire to make space for work. I'd already filled my plate with other things, yet here I was torturing myself with the idea that I was letting a very important part of my identity, that I'd spent a decade cultivating with care and good decisions, wither and die without so much as a goodbye happy hour. I'm confident that taking a professional break was the right decision for a lot of very typical reasons, but just like any opportunity left on the table, I wondered if I was giving up more than I realized. Just writing this paragraph about trying to bridge that mental gap is making me anxious, which I think says a lot about how turbulent it was (and still is) in my head.

It was so unexpectedly tough to make my brain walk away from my desk, long after I'd physically done so.

Sometime after Christmas, things kind of equalized. I started to transition more. The baby started sleeping longer stretches, the weather got warmer, I started a project everyone can get involved with and get satisfaction from. I read books again, for the first time in years. I ran further and faster and more often. I let go of the anxiety-producing idea that my current role was not enough. It sounds insane, but it was VERY DIFFICULT for me to realize I don't have to impact thousands of people each day to call my day successful. I tried to fill my life with things that don't require acronyms. I shelved the ambitious, consuming, admirable-yet-distracting-in-my-new-life mentality that I can do more/everything/better/faster/cheaper.

(I still critique television commercials and in-store signage. I JUST CAN'T STOP THAT PART, OKAY?)

Somewhere in between about this day last year when I was hugely pregnant and working on projects millions of eyeballs might see, and today when I'm worried about just when in the hell the UPS man will bring me my new steam mop because these bananas Charlotte drops on the floor ain't cleaning themselves (WHO AM I?), my former and past life came to an obvious understanding that I wasn't willing to see or notice last summer.

Nothing's permanent. (DUH.) Things change. (DUH.) And, while I am happy with the state of life now, if I am someday not? I can go back to the acronyms and the high heels. They will be (hopefully) waiting for me and (hopefully) I will not have sacrificed too much during my desk hiatus. In the meantime there are a million ways to dip my toes back in, little-by-little. It's a rolling understanding, one I admit I'm not entirely comfortable or happy with, but it's working for me these days. 

An entire year passed (seemingly) in the blink of an eye, but everything is so, so very different. 

Work History

Maggie totally inspired this post and I hope you write one too, or tell me in the comments what your first jobs were. I ADORE hearing about everyone's first jobs. They're almost all comically horrible and I find it to be such a unifying topic.

Like a lot of teenage girls, the first job I ever had was babysitting. I babysat a LOT in high school, and I liked it quite a bit. It was pretty easy money. Most nights I'd earn $30 or $40, sometimes more, all for just watching TV and reading stories to small people. Really, I was shocked people paid me so handsomely for this.

There were a couple of families I preferred over the others and I remember at one point deciding I didn't like babysitting for a certain family because there were ALWAYS dirty dishes in the kitchen and they were smelly and the house smelled like dog and the children were just...odd. I remember feeling kind of badly about this but my mom told me if I didn't like them I didn't HAVE to babysit for them. This was an oddly empowering moment for me, realizing it was okay to decline for personal reasons, that I didn't have to justify or explain to anyone.

We lived on base so this didn't really hurt my business. Whenever that family called I just told them I was busy (watching The Simpsons with my brother and chain-eating Drumsticks with a fourteen-year-old's magical metabolism, OH THOSE WERE THE DAYS). I raked in the cash for a couple of years. I spent all of it on movies, clothes, shoes, milkshakes at the PX Burger King, lip gloss and a subscription to Sassy.

For my second job was a lifeguard at the O-Club pool the summer between my sophomore and junior year of high school. I think my mother is the one that suggested another girl and I take the course, because if we did we'd surely be hired. I'm not sure WHY she suggested this to us (or why she thought we'd be hired), but we took the class. (Perhaps she was envisioning a summer full of my teenage eye-rolling and whining and was looking to avoid that. CAN'T IMAGINE WHY.) We were hired and it was a pretty boring job. I never had to rescue anyone (though I was PETRIFIED that I'd have to and I would forget all of the training). I took chemical samples every hour and posted them on a whiteboard. I didn't clean bathrooms, even though it was TECHNICALLY part of my job. I think they paid us $7/hour, which was big, huge, giant money in 1996. 

My third job was in college. I was an Assistant Page Editor for my college yearbook. I was assigned a chunk of pages in the Athletics section and I had to assign photographers and writers to cover various events/clubs/teams and then take the materials they came back with and design layouts. I liked it, a lot! We worked on giant blue Mac G3s in the basement of the Journalism building. I think I was paid $15 or $20 for each two-page-spread that went to press. In the end, I think 50 or 60 pages went to press, but I didn't get paid until the end of the spring semester, so it was basically summer spending money.

The year after that, I became the Athletics Section Editor. The Aggieland was (at the time) the largest collegiate yearbook in the United States and the Athletics section was the largest section. I hired an Assistant Page Editor (she was the only one that applied) and we had a nice year making pages, looking at photos, bonding with the staff in the basement of the Journalism building and getting to a first-name basis with the Sports Information Director.

I applied to be the Editor-in-Chief the next year, but I bombed the interview. I had serious misgivings about even applying for the job, but for some reason I decided to submit my application. Toward the end of my stint as section editor, I had grown unhappy with the team and atmosphere and support from the department and I applied with heavy feet. And then, in the interview, I suddenly realized this was not a job I wanted. I heard some flippant things come out of my mouth and I probably made some faces and, whaddya know, they didn't hire me. (It was not very mature, I know, but I was also 20 and....immature.) 

The next semester I needed spending money so I worked at a sandwich shop. It wasn't SO bad, but the guy that owned it did not instruct anyone in how to work there. There were just a bunch of things to do and people did whatever! You basically walked in for your shift and got stuck doing what the person leaving had been doing or whatever you felt like doing. I liked making the chocolate chip cookies, making sandwiches, and taking orders. I did not like washing dishes, so I generally just refused/ignored them and that actually turned out to be a good tactic because I think I only washed dishes once. I quit after a few months because it was just so WEIRD and I didn't like people bitching to me about their sandwiches. (People have Very Strong Feelings about their sandwiches.)

After I graduated, nobody was hiring. I graduated in August, 2001 and after September 11, 2001 things were kind of locked down. I looked and I applied but NOBODY was hiring in my corner of the world. I substitute taught. I temped at a legal office, filling the hours with data entry on a class action asbestos lawsuit. I was a receptionist at a now-defunct telecom company that NOBODY ever visited so I read the internet all day. One day, a lady walked over to me and said, "THEY HAVE FIRED ALL OF US!"

Ah, well. Okay then.

I worked for a few months at an environmental engineering company as a "Designer." They never, ever gave me any work to do. Really, to this day I cannot remember WHAT I did there except read a few proposals and make sure they matched the RFP requirements. 

I was finally offered an actual full-time position in San Angelo, Texas at the city newspaper as a page editor. They were willing to pay me the grand sum of $17,500/year, but I knew that even in tiny San Angelo that was hardly enough to live on. Also, it was in San Angelo and....no thanks.

I commuted by bus, I lived at home with my parents in Austin, I wondered when my life was going to start. 

Then one day a woman named Sharon hired me to work at an advertising agency in Dallas. I had a friend that worked there and she thought I would like it. And, that's how I got myself on the Marketing and Advertising Merry-Go-Round. I stayed there for about ten years and immersed myself in all manner of buzzwords, acronyms and requests to make the logo bigger. 

So, spill your guts to me. What were your first jobs? (I am DYING to hear!)

Four things: Margaritas, HVAC Failure, A Contractor Story, Fruit Ninja

1. We have been making margaritas lately and this recipe right here is SO FREAKING DELICIOUS and I have my friends Ryan and Lolly to thank for introducing it to us. Everyone must run out to Costco and buy a sack of limes straight away. Go. Now. 

2. The downstairs AC unit died. If it was July and 110-degrees this would be a very big deal, but it's March and it was 66-degrees today so it's not quite as terrible. Our units (one for upstairs, one for downstairs) are 15-years-old and are pretty much at the end of their expected life and we knew this was lurking somewhere in our future but....bleh. Adios, many thousands of dollars. 

3. I called nine companies to estimate the job and five were able to come over on Monday, so I had a pretty good range of quotes to look at and compare. One of the guys though? Oh my goodness, what a mess.

Firstly, he shows up looking like a slightly scruffier version of Jimmy Buffet. Aloha shirt unbuttoned one button too many, very casual, says things like, "I just have a good feeling about you, we're going to do some work together!" And at first it was kind of charming and funny. But then he stayed too long, over-explaining things I had no interest in learning about (even after I politely asked him to wrap it up as my interest in HVAC systems was extremely limited). 

Then he said, "When your Da-HUSBAND gets home you can talk about blabbity-blah-whatever..."

!!!!

I mean, I know I am particularly radiant and young-looking (haaaa) but really? He almost said when my DADDY gets home? He also mentioned something about back surgery and being on painkillers and how they were making him feel messed up. Ohhh-kayyyyy. Maybe that's something you don't bring up to a potential client.

He says he'll email me a crazy-detailed estimate to review and he's sure he'll be the best and most awesome choice for the job and he's so excited and then (you see where this is going, right?).....I never got an estimate. I wasn't too concerned about it because I had a handful of people bidding but still, it did seem odd.

It got even weirder when he started calling, asking about the job! He was just SO EARNEST. And I was like, "I still need the estimate." I cannot hire anyone for anything without a price attached to it!  He said he'd bring it by the house that evening and I was all no, dude. I do not need you to come by my house again. I have dinner to make and small people to put to bed. JUST EMAIL IT TO ME LIKE A NORMAL PERSON IN 2012 DOES. It's not hard to send an email! He texts me saying the estimate (that has yet to appear) is only good for three days.

All day long (Tuesday), still no estimate.

Today (Wednesday) he leaves a voicemail that says he left his phone in another vehicle and is just now getting it back. What kind of person loses their phone for an entire day? Why is he telling me these things? We are 48+ hours removed from the original visit.

An hour after the voicemail about the lost phone, I get an email forward from him. Oh! Finally! It contains my estimate and the estimates for two other clients with no other words or context. Just a bunch of attachments.

My estimate has a lot of words, but no number or dollar amount. Somehow, I am not surprised.

4. Claire has been playing Fruit Ninja on the Kinect and if that's not hilarious all on its own (it is, trust me) the other day Charlotte crawled in front of the sensor and started waving her hands like Claire was doing. The Kinect picked her up as the second player and Claire wasn't too happy about this and she shouted,

"Charlotte! NO FRUIT FOR YOU!" 

Her tone was JUST LIKE the Soup Nazi. (Claire has never seen an episode of Seinfeld.) It was awesome.

 

About the urgent care clinic

When we were in Houston for my brother's wedding, Charlotte spiked a high-ish fever: 102.1. She's never been a sick kid and at almost ten-months-old had yet to make even ONE sick-child visit to our pediatrician.

(This is completely INSANE as I think Claire had at least 5 or 8 sick-child visits at this point in her life. I would like to say it's because Charlotte was not in a group child care setting and Claire WAS, but I think it mostly has to do with winter-baby/summer-baby and an older sibling that sucks her thumb, which is the grossest thing in the whole world.)(She also steals the baby's binkys, which is a whole other post. GOD, she is such a germ-sharing factory.)

Ahem. Anyway.

A fever (with congestion that had been going for a few weeks) made me think it was an ear infection. But, we were out of town so I dosed her with Motrin, saw the fever drop, put her to bed, and hoped for the best. She woke up at 11pm, breathing quickly, and so, so, so hot. She was crying and almost inconsolable. I took her temperature several times with a newish temporal thermometer we'd bought. 102....103....104? ONE-OH-FOUR? WHAT?

That was a really high number, but it seemed weird that I'd get such dramatically different readings in quick succession. I wondered if I was using this fancy new thermometer wrong?  I figured if I was using it wrong, it would give me a LOW reading and not a high one. It can't measure that high unless something is that hot. (Right? This is how my brain was working.) 

I called the overnight nurse back in Ft Worth and she explained that if Charlotte had been recently laying down (as she had been, ASLEEP and all), it would make the surface temperature of her head a lot higher than her actual temperature. Since it had been several minutes and she was upright, she wanted me to try again, with three subsequent reads.

101.2

101.1

101.2

That's better. (Well, as better as 101 is.)  She calmed down, nursed, we gave her some more Motrin and put her back to sleep. 

(SIDEBAR! Our pediatrician is a part of the Cook Children's Medical Center. Cook Children's is the Ft Worth medical center of choice and I have been SO SO SO impressed with them for the past 3 years. They have an app that I have used several times [all while out of town, go figure]. It's got really simple information in it that you could Google, but I find that it's comforting/reassuring to find out what Cook's has to say about fever/puke/whatever in the middle of the night [when I'm right on the edge of panicky thoughts and don't need any more crazy added to the mix] rather than Dr Google. It's blanket information not specific to Cook's, so if you wanted to get the app, just go here.)

The next day Charlotte was irritable and cranky. I still thought she probably had an ear infection. She was now pulling on her ears and shaking her head. I called our pediatrician and asked if they thought I should take her to an urgent care clinic or if treating an ear infection with antibiotics isn't something they'd want to do anyway. (Some practices skip antibiotics for ear infections, depending on a variety of factors.) My ped's nurse told me that they DO treat an ear infection with antibiotics and I should try to get her seen. She recommended a pediatric urgent care, but a regular urgent care would do. Just try and get her treated.

Okay. We can do that. After all, we are in the fourth-largest city in the United States. 

We had several hours until the rehearsal dinner and I felt pretty confident that we'd get her to a pediatric urgent care clinic, seen, diagnosed with an ear infection, and fetch a liquid suspension of antibiotics well before it was time to get dressed for the evening. I Googled for a pediatric urgent care and came up with nothing close. (Houston is about 50-miles across and in traffic on Friday afternoon? Going far could take HOURS. It took us 45 minutes to drive four miles across town. I needed something close.)

Okay, maybe just a plain old urgent care clinic? One of the first results was the CVS Minute Clinic. Huh. that sounded pretty....decent. Considering she wasn't in immediate distress and I really WAS about 90% sure we just needed a peek with an otoscope, this sounded like a very efficient and cost effective way to get her treated. But, I wasn't sure they'd see a baby. I looked on their website and called the 866 number (it hung up on me) and even called the specific location, but nobody was able to tell me if they would see a nine-month-old. 

SIGH.

I looked on my map some more. I found a pediatric facility, but it looked kind of far away. There were more in the suburbs, but in the center of the city there was nothing for kids. (People in the city...don't have children that get sick on the weekends? What? No.) We went inside and nope, they don't see kids under 18-months-old at CVS Minute Clinic. They directed me to another urgent care clinic down the street that saw babies.

Except, they didn't treat babies either (even though I asked her if she knew a place that WOULD SEE A BABY OMG PEOPLE ARE IDIOTS SOMETIMES). They sent me to anther place (and I was SURE to specify URGENT CARE that treats babies and not EMERGENCY ROOM, because $$$$$), but it was an ER. 

The second I saw the sign out front, I knew it would cost Big Bucks to have someone hold an otoscope to her ear. I am a reasonable person and I want my baby to feel better, but this is not a $600 problem. But we were there, so we walked in. The first thing I said was, "How much is a visit to check out her ears, cash, no insurance?" 

You guys? She gave me A Look. A "OH THAT IS SAD, NO INSURANCE" look!

And that pissed me off!

Because, what the shit? Having insurance or not isn't a reflection about a person's character or financial circumstances (NOT THAT IT MATTERS OR IS HER BUSINESS ANYWAY). It's just me asking, in a reasonable tone, "What is the price?"

You know, like a normal person asks before she spends money?  It's not a sad thing! Not an embarassing thing! It's just how commerce works! We agree on a price and then I decide if I want to buy what you are offering. Nobody gives me A Look at Starbucks when I ask how much an extra shot is. There is not unlimited money, Judgey Receptionist Lady. People need to know what things cost.

We are insured, but we are on a very high deductible HSA, and we are responsible for 100% of our sick visits until we meet the deductible, which we hope not to meet because that would mean someone got really, really sick. Whatever this was going to cost, we were going to be paying 100%. Asking for the no-insurance price was the quickest way to get to the answer.

And you know what? I am fine paying for my family's sick visits, including emergency visits, if necessary. Really. I am! I understand the limitations and responsibilities of my plan and we have budgeted accordingly. I know that a broken arm is going to set up back a few hundred bucks. (Maybe a grand. Let's not go there today.) But, I want to know what I am going to pay before I incur the charge (again, AS A NORMAL PERSON DOES), especially if it's an elective visit. This was another problem we were having: not only did we have a sick baby while out of town, we were now seeking non-emergency care in an emergency setting because none of the urgent care clinics would see a child under 18-months-old. The ship had long since sailed to try and get a regular appointment at a local pediatrician's office that afternoon. We were pretty stuck. 

So, I have asked her what it's going to cost and she gives me the pièce de résistance of my wedding weekend medical quest: She told me she can't tell me what it costs because they are an ER and they have to see everyone. Let me repeat: She knew what it would cost and she refused to tell me. I was not asking IF she would see my child (I am aware that an ER has to see everyone), I was asking WHAT IS THE FEE.

I think she was trying to say that in a true emergency, cost doesn't matter. In a life-or-death situation, I tend to agree. Am I bleeding out? Please save me, no matter the cost. Did I skin my knee and I need a band-aid? No, I do not want to pay $500 for that.

The huge, enormous gap in this process is it's MY decision to make, not hers or her company's. MINE. (If this turns out to be a legal issue, that an ER is prohibited by law from telling someone what a visit might cost, then I'll be REALLY horrified.)

There's a HUGE connection between what it costs to be treated and whether a person CHOOSES to be treated. The idea that these two things aren't related or heavily intertwined is ridiculous. People make these decisions every day! It's RESPONSIBLE and NORMAL to want to know and use this information as part of the decision-making process when seeking medical care.

Live with the backache or get the expensive surgery?

Wait for strep throat to clear up in 3-7 days or go see a doctor and pay for that visit plus an antibiotics prescription?

And, at the extreme, take the heart medication or eat dinner next weeK?

People in America are making these decisions, and far more heart-wrenching ones I can't even imagine, EVERY DAY. Money is a BIG PART of seeking treatment for a health issue.

Cost and treatment are not mutually exclusive. 

I wanted to yell at her. Scream at her. Shake my hands at her. Rain a storm of simple logic and three-syllable words on her.  

I started to really understand the phrase, "access to care." My child needed care and I couldn't access it. The one place that I could access care, was for an unknown, hidden, deliberately withheld cost. And you know what? That is fucked up.There we were in the fourth-largest city in the United States of America, insured, willing to spend (not an exorbitant sum of) money to have our daughter's ear checked out, running every set of keywords I could think of via iPhone on the tollway, and still having a problem getting access to care. All the blessings in the world and nobody will tell me what it costs to hold an otoscope to her ear and see if this poor child's middle ear is infected.

"Frustrated" does not come close to conveying my feelings that afternoon. We were out of time and out of places to go. 

We took her to the rehearsal dinner and she was fine. Happy, chatty, smiley. She wasn't feeling TOO terrible. This entire thing was a "nice to have." We tried to get her seen, we couldn't, we moved on with our plans. She seemed to do just fine, but ran a lowish fever and shook her head/pulled her ears all weekend. Probably uncomfortable, but still in a good mood.

We went to our normal pediatrician on Monday, once we got home, and she took one look in her left ear and saw a "raging ear infection." $5 for some amoxicillin, $144 for the visit and she was feeling much better the next day. The whole thing took an hour.

***

We had two problems: she was under 18-months-old and we were out of town. Left to turn to an ER, a policy that appears to have been designed to make sure everyone had access to care ushered us straight out the door. Yes, we could have accessed care, but we chose not to because the providers withheld information that was crucial in our decision-making process. Of course, if it had been a true emergency we would have been able to get her seen at a hundred places. But, it wasn't. It was an everyday problem that we were not at home for. She fell through the cracks, got tangled in red tape, pick whatever metaphor suits you, because we were all over it. Too young to be treated here, unknown cost over there. Game over.

I can handle a baby with an ear infection and make her comfortable. What really got me was that I tried to get my baby treated and I failed.

I felt like I had failed her. 

In the future, I will seek out the nearest pediatric urgent care clinic when we travel. I have already identified the nearest, takes-our-insurance facility in the cities that the grandparents reside.(Because even if I'm paying, you bet your ass I also want the negotiated rate.)

I also went ahead and forked over $26 for my very own otoscope and I'm going to ask our pediatrician what to look for and how to use it (along with Dr Google, of course). I have a feeling this request is going to make her wince, but this is what lack of universal access to and the ridiculous, oddly secretive cost of medical care in this country has come to. 

It's just all so very modern, isn't it?