Monday, October 10, 2016

I Cried During the Presidential Debate

This is slightly embarrassing to admit, but I cried while watching the debate tonight.  Every four years people make the same complaints about having to choose "the lesser of two evils".  This year is the same complaint, but much more serious.  Say what you will about 3rd party nominees and write in votes.  The fact of the matter is that either Donald Trump or Hillary Clinton will be the next President of the United States. That is why I cried.

I cannot stand Donald Trump.  I can not put into words how much I dislike this man.  I remember watching the very first episode of The Apprentice and thinking he was on a huge power trip.  My opinion of him didn't change when he started his campaign.  I cannot muster any respect for a man that speaks so poorly of other people.  I don't really need to go on, you know what I am talking about.

So, does that make me "with her"?  Well, you would think so.  As far as political parties and standings are concerned, she is who I naturally gravitate to.  (Disclaimer for my conservative evangelical friends: yes, I know she is pro-choice.  I do not base my vote on one issue.  And yes, I know you are worried about the second amendment, but this is not the time for that discussion).  I have lost count of the number of times I have taken the I Side With quiz.  I side with Hillary every time.  But I do not want to vote for her.  I keep trying to make excuses for her.  "Well, every politician is sleazy or does questionable things in their career.  At least she apologized.  She went to trial and they didn't indict her" and "yeah, she did defend a rapist who ended up getting next to nothing.  That just proves she is good at her job"  I keep saying these things to make myself feel better.  But it's not working anymore, that's why I cried.

This is the first election since I have become a mother.  Maybe that is why character and integrity are so much more important to me.  Or maybe it is just because I matured.  It's probably a bit of both.  Either way, it sure is making this a very difficult choice for me.  

Sunday, October 2, 2016

Birthday, Lipstick, Farts, Barf and Cornfields

I promised Michelle I would share this story this week.  Hopefully it will help her feel better about her hellish road trip with her car sick daughter.  

I don't have a photo for this story, so enjoy this picture of Paisley instead.
For my fourteenth birthday my mom brought me to the mall with my two best friends. We made the usual rounds to PacSun, Bath and Body Works, and Gadzooks before finishing up at Clair's with the very important purchase of a "Best Friends Forever" necklace set.  We walked back to meet my mom in order of our necklace words (I was best of course) and stopped at a Mexican restaurant for dinner.  I should have pick Italian.  

All three of us sat in the back seat and sang along with the Backstreet Boys for most of the trip home. We were most of the way there when my friend started to complain her stomach hurt.  Eventually, she let out a giant, loud, extremely smelly fart and felt better.  I was stuck in the middle seat, furthest from the window.  I was trapped.  I've always had a week stomach. Eventually, the stench got the best of me and I vomited all over myself.  I started crying as my mom pulled over, because who barfs on their birthday?!  My friends were laughing so hard they had to pee in the cornfield we had parked next to.  Someone wasn't paying attention on there way there and ended up stepping in some sort of poop,  The rest of the ride home was rather stinky.

The following Monday I got dressed for school wearing my new pants from PacSun.  It wasn't until after I got to school, that I noticed the reddish-brown lip stick I got somehow ended up all over the pack of my new pants in a very unfortunate spot. 

For my fifteenth birthday, I stayed home.  

Wednesday, June 29, 2016

I don't Have to Like It All to Love It

 


A few days ago I stumbled across this photo in my TimeHop app.  The caption I posted was "So this is how we are napping today...so much for a productive Saturday". Paisley was all of 3 months old and I had been back to working 40 hours a week for a month.  I was the emotional equivalent of a jack-in-the-box, and the stress of balancing work life and mom life was getting to me. I didn't have to read the comments this time, I remembered them.  I remembered the guilt just as well.

Each "time passes so quickly", "you won't miss dirty dishes in 20 years", and "this is the most productive thing you can do" seemed like a twist of the knife.  I "liked" the comments  because I knew they meant well, but in all truthfulness, I hated them.  I wasn't putting the cleanliness of my house at a higher priority than my daughter, yet I felt that people thought I was.  I just wanted to do some dishes so we had clean glasses to drink out of, maybe even get a shower if I was lucky.

Here is some truth for you:  I do not enjoy all aspects of motherhood.  Because not all moments of motherhood are full of warm fuzzies and rainbows.  There are a lot of really crappy moments when it comes to parenting a child (I mean that both literally and figuratively).

Now, before you think I am a cold, heartless monster let me just say I believe motherhood is a wonderful gift.  I wholeheartedly agree that the days are long, but the years are short.  I am fully aware that there are plenty of women out there who would die to have a baby keeping them from house work (I was one of them).  Combine these feelings with a desire to get some work done and guilt sets in.

Something I have learned in my short time as a mother is that it is okay not to enjoy every moment.  I don't have to enjoy sleepless nights, dirty diapers, or meltdowns when I leave her in the nursery.  Quite frankly, those moments suck.  However, it is part of the package deal, and I wouldn't trade that for the world.  That package also includes the snuggles, the popsicle sharing, the crazy dancing, the coloring, the bath time giggles, and the way she says "uh-oh" after she passes gas in the grocery store.

So, I am enjoying motherhood, at least the parts that are important.  And just because I would like my child to sleep in her crib instead of my arms doesn't mean I am not "soaking it in", it just means that I would like to wash some dishes (because I probably ran out of paper plates.)






Monday, June 20, 2016

The Time I Scared Dean With A Father's Day Card

Father's Day has always been an odd holiday for me.  When I found out that we would be having a girl, I was pretty excited to see the father daughter bond develop between Dean and Paisley that I was never able to really have. I am happy to say that they are think as thieves.  Paisley is a Daddy's girl through and through.  So naturally, I wanted to make his Father's days as special as I could.



I went to our local game store and picked a Magic Card (yes, he is a hard core geek) that has been on his wish list for a while.  Then I went over to Target to pick out some Father's Day cards while Paisley tested her lung compacity and my patience. Dean's was the easiest to select, a cute googly- eyed daddy monster being chased.  It said something along the lines of not being able to escape his little monster.

Father's day morning arrived much earlier than I would have liked.  Paisley has decided that 6 am is her new happy hour.  I straggled my way into the kitchen, muttered "happy birthday - I mean Father's day" to Dean and handed him my carefully selected card.   His reaction was not at all what I was expecting.  He read the card and just stood there with this puzzled look on his face.  Then he said "So... umm... what does this mean?".  Now I was confused, "What?!  What do you mean  - it means Happy Father's Day, what don't you get?".   Well, apparently, I picked out a card that was meant to be from more than one child.  Dean thought I was trying to tell him I was pregnant.  (I am not - let's not start rumors).  Once we cleared up that little misunderstanding we had a great day involving the playground and Pho.



And just in case I haven't made myself clear - we are not having another baby any time soon.


Sunday, June 12, 2016

When A Weeks Feels Like A Month

 As you can see, I finally settled on a blog title.  "Don't Call Me Kate" wasn't horrible, but it just felt very juvenile to me. Not to mention, I am pretty much over my distaste for people calling me Kate. (As long as you know me well. If I met you 5 min ago and you call me Kate I will dislike you.) At one point this week, I found myself uttering the words "My Life's a Sitcom"  and I call it my light bulb moment.  So here we are.



My crazy week started last Thursday when Paisley got a bit of a fever.  I wasn't overly concerned until Friday night when instead of sleeping she would just cry in pain.  So, we took her to the walk in hours at the doctors on Saturday morning where she tested positive for Strep.  We had to skip a birthday party we were invited to and spend the weekend locked indoors with a cranky kid. 

Monday morning I discovered that Paisley has inherited her dad's Penicillin allergy.  I brought her back to the doctors office and freaked out about Scarlet Fever just to be told that it really was an allergy and my kid is not dying even if it sounds like it.  Monday also happens to be the one day a week that we need a sitter.  Our Sitter is an ED nurse. So I know she can completely handle a sick kid.  Paisley had pretty much the worse meltdown of her life when I tried to leave.  I am a genius and had to go back after I left and she settled because I left my wallet in the diaper bag.  Of course this caused another meltdown.  We paid the sitter a little extra that day.

Tuesday seemed to go as expected until the evening when I turned a little ghetto.  Living in the city has a lot of advantages, but sometimes it's a problem.  Like when there is some idiot screaming profanities outside your window at 11:30 pm and wakes you sick sleeping child.  I won't go into a lot of details, but I was marching down the street after someone at midnight in my PJ's.  Hell hath no fury like a mother with a woken child.  Or something like that.

We made it through Wednesday and Thursday with only a head knocking incident ( I was convinced she had a concussion, but apparently I overreact).  Friday came and I was feeling like I finally shook the week's curse.  Paisley had her 15 month check up scheduled and I had to work.  I no sooner get to the office and turn my computer on when Dean calls me.  He had locked him self out and needed to bring Paisley to her appointment.  Thankfully my office is less than 2 miles from home, so I was able to get home and back in a matter of minutes.   As if that wasn't enough, Dean texts me about 20 minutes later to inform me that someone rear-ended him so hard that he hit the car in front of him.  Every one and thing is fine.  The Air bags didn't even deploy, so it wasn't serious.  It was just one more slap in the face from this crazy week.  

Bring it Monday.  You've got nothing on me!

Sunday, May 22, 2016

Currently 1.1

Loving. 
My new planner.  I have seen a lot of the "Glamour Planner" stuff out there on Pintrest, and even built a beautiful planner set up on Erin Condren's website.  But, I just couldn't bring myself to drop $50 on a planner  no matter how awesome it was.  Then I discovered PlumPaper.  Admittedly, $30 still seemed a bit steep to me, but after going back to work 5 days a week I realized I could use it.  So I asked for it for my birthday.  Then I found sticker shops on Etsy.  A merge of my two favorite things - being organized and stationary?  Count me in!



Feeling. 
Completely warn out if I am being honest with you.  I don't really know what changed, but this past week has been really hard for me to keep up with.  I wake up just as tired as I did when I went to sleep.  I am sure a better diet and a little exercise would help.  I also have a ton of things going on (hence my need for a planner).  After my this next week, my commitments will be spread out more, so I am hoping I can recoup a bit then.

Eating. 
A bunch of junk.  Which I am sure is responsible for my lack of energy.  It really is time for an overhaul with my diet.  I am just looking for budget friendly options that will not have me eating rice and beans everyday.  Not that there is anything wrong with rice and beans.  I just like a bit of variety in my diet is all.

Listening to.
Right now this very second - nothing.  It is beautiful.  I have some things to do, but I really want to sit here and enjoy the nothing for a while.

Drinking. 
Coffee coffee and more coffee,  Have I mentioned that I am tired?

Smelling. 
The last of my Winter Candy Apple candle stash.  I had an awesome coupon this past December and bought about 5 of the 3 wick candles from Bath and Body Works.  I have a small obsession with Winter Candy Apple so I buy as much as I can around Christmas.  Obviously I need to buy twice as much this year cause I only made it half way through the year.

Reading.
Troublemaker: Surviving Hollywood and Scientology by Leah Remini.  I was a little hesitant to read another book about Scientology after finishing Jenna Miscavage's autobiography.  However, this book is a lot easier to get through.  I feel like Leah and I are BFFs now even though she has no clue who I am.  I also have a completely different view of Tom Cruise.  You should read it.



Cooking. 
One batch of Skinny Mom sour cream enchiladas for a friend that just had a baby and spinach and tomato quesadillas with pesto for my family.  Yum.

Monday, May 16, 2016

That Time I Accidentally Spent $50 on My Hair

Anyone who knows me well knows that I am pretty frugal.  I have a hard time spending more than $12 on a new outfit (including shoes).  There are always exceptions to my penny pinching (I have recently fallen down the pretty planner rabbit hole for example), but for the most part I don't like opening up my wallet if I can help it.

With my hardcore frugality (which spell check is not correcting so frugality must be a real word), it comes to no surprise that I rarely go to get my haircut professionally.  My sister-in-law is a hairdresser (and a pretty darn good one at that).  So, I generally end up having her cut my hair every third visit or so.  This would be great if she didn't live 5 hours away.  With the current set up, I get my hair cut about once a year.  This was fine before I had Paisley, but my postpartum hair is a wreck!

Last week I got sick of my frizzy, unmanageable lion's mane and decided to suck it up and pay for a hair cut.  I decided to go to a local chain that advertises walk-in cuts for under $20. I walked in, put my name down for a cut and an eyebrow wax (it had been about a year since a wax too).  The 12 year old looking hair dresser took me back, washed my hair, asked if I wanted conditioner, and got to work.  She listened to everything I wanted and did a great job.  When she was done she asked "would you like me to blow dry it for you?".  "Yeah, sure" I answered thinking about the few stores I needed to stop in before I went home.  It took her about 20 minutes to blow dry my hair, which seemed like a long time to me, but I was really enjoying the alone time, so I didn't question it.

I walked up to the counter thinking I actually looked good for once (if you didn't count the peanut butter Paisley affectionately left smeared on my shoulder).  I was trying to decide if giving her the $40 cash I had would leave her with too big of a tip when I was interrupted with "your total comes to $53"  I just kinda stood there for a second before handing her my debit card.  I was too dumbfounded to question it.  When I got back to my car I looked at the receipt.  "The works" package includes a wash, cut, wax, and blow dry for $49 and condition was $4.  Needless to say, I won't be going back there, even if I looked fabulous in the end.


Wednesday, May 4, 2016

The Working Mom Post

One year a go today I stuffed my postpartum body into some dress pants, changed my top three times because of spit up, kissed my tiny 2 month old goodbye, and went back to work a job I tolerated with people I loved.  I made it through the day with surprising ease and at 4:30 (I really couldn't wait until 5) went home to snuggle my love again.  Since that day I have worked full-time, part-time, and not at all.  I have concluded that even if we were to win the Mega Millions tomorrow, I would still want to work.



I have learned many things about my self since I became a mom.  One of those things is that I need to work for my sanity.  When I was working full time I cherished my weekends.  They were my time to get things done and hang out with Paisley.  I wouldn't trade them for the world.  I had my moments of course.  There were a few times that I cried to Dean saying I missed my baby, but for the most part our weekly routine worked for us.  Then I was laid off.  At the time, Paisley was 7 months old.  I was thrilled to have more time to spend with her. I also used the time to get a lot of things done around the house.  I was loving my time home, but we just weren't making ends meet.

When I went back to work part time it was the perfect balance!  I had time with Paisley, my house was still clean, I didn't have to buy groceries on a Saturday, and I was bring in enough income to make ends meet.  Then I was laid off again.  I thought I would enjoy my time off as much as I did the first time, but that was not the case.  To be frank, I was bored.  I did what needed to be done, and I enjoyed my time with Paisley, but I needed more structure.  I blew through about 6 seasons of Gray's Anatomy on Netflix in just a few weeks.  I needed to work again.

So, that's what I did.  Granted it is part time, but that is perfect for us.  I love the balance it brings to my life.   I love that each day brings something a little bit different.  I love the structure that is created by a weekly routine.  I love that I have a reason to wear cute clothes and get out of yoga pants more than twice a week.  I love that Paisley will grow up seeing the benefits of hard work.  I love that working part time forces me to focus on the quality of our time together instead accepting the quantity.  Working actually makes me a better mom.

I understand this is not for everyone.  I will admit that I still have my moments where I feel like I am missing out.  I occasionally still get the "it's so sad you have to leave her" comments.  I do my best to brush them off, but I would be lying if I said they didn't sting.  I get sad when Dean tells me how cute she was at Story Time or hear her cry when I leave.  I  know that staying home would have equally hard moments because that is what parenting is.  So, I take them in stride.  Maybe down the road things will change, but for now, this works for us.

Wednesday, April 27, 2016

Vocational Update

I never really followed up about the whole job situation since my post in November.  About a month after my post, my previous supervisor called me up and offered me a part time position doing some HR and recruiting stuff.  I was hesitant about working for the same company after everything they pulled, but I figured "hey, it's a job", so I took it.  My second day back I was informed that they sold the company and that the office would be closing some time near the spring, but that this time they would be offering severance packages (if you call 2 weeks pay a severance package).  Yes, I know, this seems like a plot line in a sitcom, but it really happened to me.  For the next 6 weeks the story changed consistently. From "Oh we are keeping the office open" to "well we are only keeping 2 people". I never really knew one day to the next if I was going to have a job the following week. Finally I had enough and point blank said "I need to know when I am done".  They gave me 2 more weeks and then asked if I could be available Per Diem if they get in over their head.  I laughed and said no.   



When I finally walked out of there for good I felt so relived.  I promised myself that I would be very picky about my next employer.  I was ready to find the place I could call "home".  I wanted to be able to say "well, I worked here for 30 years and figured it was time to retire".  With some guidelines in mind, I hit the job market strong.  I went on about 7 job interviews in a 3 week period.  I had a few offers that I turned down because they didn't meet my guidelines, one fall through, and some that just didn't pan out.

 In mid March I found myself in a difficult position.  I had a guaranteed offer from an organization (a nursing home) that is less than 3 miles from my house and a potential offer from a local university in Rochester with a ton of benefits.  After a stressful weekend, I chose to take the guaranteed position near to my home because the university took to long to get back to me.  

At the time, I was a little disappointed that the university job didn't work out. I was really drooling over all of the benefits it could offer.  However, after being in my job for all of three weeks, I can say that this is the best possible place for me.  The people in my department are wonderful.  The majority of employees love their jobs.  My supervisor is the most genuine, efficient, and compassionate boss I have ever had.  We have fun. Plus, I get to bring Paisley in to visit some of the elders that adore her as much as I do.   I never thought I would feel this way, but I am so thankful I was laid off. 

Oh, they also give me cupcakes for Administrative Professionals Day.  So really, what more could I ask for?



Sunday, April 24, 2016

Currently 1.0

Because every post needs a photo


Loving - Etsy.  I have purchased items from Etsy in the past, but I have just recently discovered how wonderful it really is.  I have gotten a lot of cute things on the cheap (including this fancy to blog design) from Etsy.

Feeling - Like I'm in a change of seasons.  Technically spring time is a change of seasons, and maybe that has influenced my emotions.  I started a new job, I'm learning a lot about myself, and over all I am ready to change some things in life. I want to be more intentional with the things I do and how I do them.

Listening to - The Giggle Bellies.  It's a station on Roku that has super cheesy music videos for kids.  Paisley LOVES it.  She points, claps, yells, and dances when it is on.  I don't put it on very often cause there is only so much annoying music I can stand.  Also, people look at me funny when I start singing "I'm a space girl, yeah, it's what  I am, I know aliens yeah they are my friends..." while waiting for the elevator at work.

Drinking - I've hopped on the protein shake band wagon.  My work schedule is odd and because of that I don't have the chance to eat lunch at a normal time, so protein shake it is.  I don't do Shakeology though.  Mostly because I am anti MLM business that force you to spam your friends via social media.  Not to mention it's crazy expensive!  I found a brand at Walmart (of all places), that works great and is affordable.

Smelling - Paisley's bubble bath.  I love evenings that Dean takes over bath time.  Especially when I am completely spent after a cranky day.

Reading -  I am Malala   Well, technically I am listening to it.  Can I say I have read a book if I listened to the Audio version?  Some times I feel like its a cop out and other times I feel like its a great solution to my lack of time.  What do you think?

Thursday, March 24, 2016

A Year of Lasts

Paisley's first birthday was three weeks ago.  Oddly enough, I was not an emotional wreck until just the past couple days.  A few friends of mine have recently had babies, and my social media feeds are blowing up with newborn photos. I can't help but remember how tiny Paisley was and how quickly her first year went.  This admittedly has given me a little bit of baby fever. (Disclaimer: we are no where ready for Gootlet #2 yet - calm down!)


For whatever reason, when I look back at her first year of life, I don't think of all her "firsts".  Like her first tooth, or her first time in a big girl car seat, or the first time she ate solid foods. Instead, I think of all of her "lasts" and how I really didn't even know they were her lasts.  There was the last time I nursed her to sleep, the last time she got a bath in the sink, the last time she sat in her Bumbo chair, and a million more I could list.  Then I think of all the "lasts" she has coming up in her life.  The last time she sleeps in her crib, the last time she drinks from a sippy cup, her last day crawling vs walking,  ect.  I know the time will come when she doesn't cry at all during the day (yes, I know that is a long way away), and eventually the day will come where she doesn't want to sit in my lap and cuddle while reading "Peek-A-Who"


While I think of all her lasts, of course I am reminded of all the cheesy cherish-every-moment-cause-they-are-only-little-for-so-long-time-flies blog posts there are roughly 1,685,716,987 of.  Which then gives me a bit of reassurance about my job situation.  After a bit of an up and down roller coaster of employment and job offers, I am now working part time.  It is a good compromise, and I am happy.  And to be honest, happiness trumps all in the end.