Our paper family

An except from our dinner conversation tonight:

Duncan: I’ve got a job to do!

Daddy: What’s your job, buddy?

Duncan: My job is to cut paper.

Mummy: Oh, is Berry’s job to color on paper?

Duncan: Yes.

(This seems about right to me. After all, isn’t what each of us in the family does somehow related to paper?)

Mummy: Then it’s my job to write on paper. What’s Daddy’s job?

(Kevin says something totally unrelated to paper here — like it being Daddy’s job to water plants or eat bacon)

Mummy: I think it’s Daddy’s job to read paper! (I.e. the newspaper, textbooks for school, etc.)

Duncan: Yes. Now we can all like our jobs.

Then he asked me how my cut finger was healing and if it still hurt me. What a great kid. Especially compared to the meltdown monster we dealt with trying to leave a fun activity before lunch today. How does he go from one extreme to another so readily? And how did he know that one of his friends from school would be there, too?

Laboring over the weekend

My blogging friend, Christa on Vocational Duality, often writes about balancing work life with mothering life. I’ve been fortunate in managing the two somewhat separately most of the time. But not this last week.

When Duncan was a baby and I leapt into the freelance life, I could put him in a playpen next to my desk and get work done. That lasted until he was a year old. Then I started taking him to an at-home daycare a few afternoons a week. Daddy looked after him some mornings, I worked during naptime and those three afternoons when he went to Kayden’s house.

Then Berry came along. Working with 2 kids is next to impossible. One of them always wants something – usually both of them want something, at the same time, in the loudest possible manner.

Because of this, when I went back to work shortly after Berry’s birth (too soon, I now realize, but that’s another story), I found someone (a wonderful someone) to come to our house to look after the kids. This keeps them close, yet I still get to escape to my office in the attic. I’m around, yet not. We eat lunch together, I put them down for naps, then I go back to work until dinner time. Really, it’s ideal.

I get to enjoy the flexibility of working from home, while maintaining working hours. Generally, I refuse to work evenings or weekends. I’m not a machine, after all. However, every so often, there comes a project with a looming deadline, that requires some after-hours work. I had one this past Labor Day weekend.

Oh boy. It would have gone OK if things had been “normal.” But we were all sick. I was sick. The kids were sick. Even Kevin was sick, although he did a fabulous job of not complaining about it.

So there I sat, one sick kid on my lap, the other sitting in a chair next to me or playing with trains on the floor, working away at the dining room table. We must have been a sight. They watched so much TV I think their brains may have melted and dribbled out their ears (at least they’ve been acting like it). But I kept plugging away and we somehow got through the weekend. My project got finished (finally, yesterday) and we will all eventually feel better. I can’t tell you how glad I was to see the sitter on Tuesday morning.

It’s interesting how we all manage to balance our lives one way or another. If I didn’t have a pressing deadline and I didn’t adore the client, I would have packed work away for the weekend and got on with it on Tuesday. Family and health tend to come before work in my balancing act. Time may be money, but time is also life. Somehow it’s important to find the equilibrium between the two.

Three thoughts

Two insightful thoughts came to me yesterday:

Insight #1: I spend so much time taking care of everyone else, I should take 15-20 minutes a day to focuse on my own inner spiritual growth and being.

Insight #2: I should use my Reverend title more. I worked hard to earn it and it reminds me that I am, indeed, a minister. Which focuses my thoughts and emotions on being more spiritual, which in turn makes me happy.

Why these insights? Eh, who knows. Perhaps it’s because I signed up for the Oprah Web Event of the Century (or whatever they’re calling it) and am reading Eckhart Tolle’s A New Earth. My mum talked me into it. I’ve had lots of practice not doing what my mum’s told me I should do, so I thought I’d try out a new tactic and follow some of her suggestions and advice.

(Note to Mum: “Some” not “all.” Stop celebrating already.)

Another insight occurred to me today.

Insight #3: Writing makes me happy, as does connecting with other people. Maybe I should also take a few minutes (if I can find them somewhere) and write a little bit more…like on here. I go back and forth about the whole blog = public journal thing. But, let’s face it, I’m not going to find the time to, say, write a book any time soon. So I might as well write the little bits and pieces that float through my head. Maybe. We’ll see how that goes. “Making” extra time means it comes from somewhere and I’ve already cut down on showering.

Rice is nice

My God, I cannot stop myself. From what?

Playing that FreeRice “game” and eating Girl Scout cookies. Why did I bring a box upstairs with me?

I’ve donated 1020 grains of rice and I need to stop myself. Must. Close. Browser. Window. My wordiness is about 39 (or whatever they call it, I closed the window, so I can’t check). This is where reading millions of books pays off — being able to waste time on the computer and donate rice to starving nations.

Ironic that I’d do it while stuffing myself with All Abouts. Maybe I should just ship off some boxes of cookies while I’m at it. Or donate the money I spent on the cookies, as that would buy plenty more than 1020 grains of rice. I was hoping I’d get to some magical number where the whole bowl would fill up.

Now that my belly is full of useless nutrients and my brain is full of cool words, I’d better get on with things.

Finding balance

I have the best life.

I complain a lot to my online mommy friends that I need to quit chatting and get working. Really I’m only “complaining” because I like talking to people. In an office environment, I’d spend some time talking to my co-workers about their lives and things we read in the paper and discuss what our lunch options were. I don’t have co-workers anymore. There’s a lot of things I don’t miss about that. Even the chatting sometimes, when I want to concentrate on getting that work done.

Because I love working. Specifically, I like the work I’m doing now. I feel like I’m making a difference, having positive effect on the world. I love that my clients are chiropractors, pediatricians practicing homeopathy, Adirondack meditation retreats, Reiki practitioners, new-age stores and the like. It’s totally up my alley.

I also appreciate that my “coworkers” are a couple of little people who hang out downstairs with their Daddy in the mornings. Activities include strenuous hours of play-dough creations, coloring, going outside to play basketball (thanks for the hoop, Nanny!) and some time singing and patting with Rocket and Little Einsteins.

When I’m ready for my coffee break (occurring right now), I’m greeted by Duncan yelling, “Oh! Mummy!” as I walk down the stairs. And I saw Berry roll from her back to front for the first time just now. She just turned 5 months old and I feel like I’ve been able to spend so much time with her, watching her slowly grow and change.

There are days I feel like I don’t see the kids much — when I work all morning, make lunch, put them down for naps, then back to work until the sitter gets here. Then more work until a half-hour before bath time. I get a lot of hours in some days. But it’s not every day.

And there’s still the, uh, joy of spending 2 hours in the morning (that’d be between the hours of 6 a.m. and 8 a.m.) before Kevin gets home from work. I actually enjoy the morning time we have together, even through the early morning summoning and the daily Battle of Breakfast.

Even today, when I have a cold and am having trouble concentrating, I feel like my life has a nice balance. I can breathe freely. I know things are on a positive course. And I’m surrounded by the things that are most important to me – meaningful work and family.

How I became a freelancer

How did I get to be a freelancer, painfully procrastinating finishing a job? (If I finish this job, then I’ll have to get back to cold calling. So as painful it is to know I have work to do that I’m not getting to, the thought of cold calling is worse. I think.)

The short story is that I had a baby (Duncan) and didn’t want to put him in daycare. Or miss watching him grow up. And my former employer couldn’t/wouldn’t work out a part-time work-from-home arrangement (working part-time and partly working from home) so I left when Duncan was 6 months old. That was in January 2006.

I was then able to work out an excellent freelance arrangement with said former employer that served us both well. It was a great transition time as I got used to being self-employed and they found someone else to take care of their website. During that time, I became pregnant with baby #2 (Berry). It seemed like such a good idea at the time. Kidding. Mostly. I didn’t know I was signing up for 8 months of morning sickness and exhaustion.

Still, I worked through it, building up my client base. Work just kept flowing in.

Berry was born in April and I stopped taking on new jobs a month or two before she was due. I had some projects to finish up and wanted to make sure I had enough time to get them done. I work part-time. I felt crappy. I had limited work hours. I finished them. Because I’m awesome like that.

Then she was born. And I started working again when she was 2 weeks old. My clients needed things done and I didn’t want to A) let them down and B) lose them. But I missed having the maternity leave I had with Duncan.

Berry is now 12 weeks old. Maternity leave is over! Well, it would be if I had a “regular job.” What I do love about self-employment is that I don’t have to go back to the office. Ever. My office is at home and I work while the kids are sleeping, or Kevin looks after them, or while the sitter/nanny is here. No daycare. Enough time to work. Now I just need more clients.

Towards the end of my pregnancy, I just wanted to speed through that part and the newborn part so I could get back to work and grow my business. So I could get on with things. Now I’m in the “getting on with things” stage and I’m…well, procrastinating. Go figure.

I will give myself a break and admit it’s a little more complex than that. Having a baby is an emotional journey, especially a couple of months postpartum when your hormones shift again and your hair starts falling out. I didn’t get the break I did after Duncan was born and I’ve had a lot more stressful things to deal with. So I think I’ve taken my maternity leave the last few weeks — still working, but not really.

But, hey, I’m multitasking in my procrastination. I’m blogging AND pumping.

Musings on being a grown up

I’m in an uncomfortable place right now — somewhere I feel that no matter what I do, I can’t win. I’ll probably get raked over the coals by someone for blogging about it. At least that’s how it feels.

But I have a situation where if I’m honest about how I feel, then I risk hurting someone’s feelings. And being told that I’m disrespectful, unpleasant and mean. But if I try to avoid conflict by not really saying how I feel…I don’t know, I still end up with a less-than-stellar response.

Maybe I go about things in the wrong way. Maybe I should just flat out say what’s on my mind and deal with the confrontation and resulting…I don’t know, whatever it results in that I’m apparently afraid of dealing with.

I don’t even know how to write about it without being totally vague. Why write about it at all? I’m a writer. It’s how I deal with stuff.

I think the heart of the situation is that someone I once looked up to and trusted has let me down. And I’m being told that I should still respect that person and follow their leadership when I cannot, in good conscience, do so. Because of things going on my own life (like having a rough pregnancy, then a baby, and making a living for my family), I haven’t had the emotional resources to do something to affect positive change about the situation. So I’ve backed off.

Occasionally, I have to be a part of the situation. Life is like that. And I deal with it the best way I know how, but somehow that ends up being the wrong thing to do.

I guess what it comes down to is that “you can’t please all the people all the time” and that not everyone is going to like me, especially when I share my version of the truth that puts them in an uncomfortable place.

And I thought being a grown up was going to be great.

Mostly I love being in charge of my life, of deciding my future and making my way in the world. Dealing with other people — that can still be a tough one for me. I think I still have some emotional baggage to deal with. But it’s worth the work to be a wholly functioning person.

And I thought I was getting away from the 9-to-5 life

I’m beginning to suspect I’m a bit of a workaholic.

It’s almost 8 pm on a Friday. I’ve worked hard all week. I have Duncan’s cold. And what am I doing? Sitting here working, tying up loose ends, making sure I’ve wrapped up all the outstanding details for my current clients.

The thing is, I’m not nearly done. I’m going to stop now, go downstairs, make some lovely Marie Callender’s fettucini alfredo (because I’m too tired/lazy to cook an actual meal) and enjoy the American Idol I recorded from Wednesday.

But looking at my list of things that I could have accomplished this week…well, there’s still more on it. Which means I’ll be putting in at least a few hours this weekend.

It’s OK. I’m not complaining that I have a lot of work going on. It’s work. Billable hours, people. Those are good. I’ve surpassed my goal for billable hours this week by 50% already (and technically the week ends on Sunday night).

I’m told that in the freelance world, work is often feast or famine. I’ve been swamped so far this year — the very thing I was worried wouldn’t happen. I haven’t even had a chance to go looking for new clients which I thought I’d be forced to do as soon as the holidays were over.

But now it’s time for dinner. I bet the oven’s heated up ready to toast my garlic bread.

The leaves of change

Agh. Just when you think you’ve got it all under control…

Wait, I never really thought I had it under control. But things seemed a little steady for a bit. A couple new clients, some steady work, some really interesting work (editing a book about enlightenment), the hope of new work in the pipeline.

I’ve been figuring out what I want to focus my time on, how I see my career going and what I’m happy spending time doing (and how much time). It seems that means my newly founded business and I aren’t going in the same direction. Or at least in the same direction as my business partner envisions.

Which is OK. Just odd. And kinda unexpected. And shaking things up.

So I’m going to focus on the things I really enjoy – writing in all its forms: copy writing newsletters and brochures and things like that, editing, web content, even proofreading. Maybe some Web services (though I’ll admit they’re not my favorite, but they do pay the bills). But not PR or media relations. I don’t mind writing the press release, I just don’t want to send it out and maintain relationships with folks in the media. I think that stems from a desire to still be one of the folks in the media and not on “the other side.”

This means I need a new business name. Damn it. GreenStone was just so cool. And I didn’t have to think of it!

Think think think think think

Quickie update

I’ve been blogging like crazy lately. Yeah, not here. Somewhere else.

I’m writing for the Rochester insider – my own blog the ROC outsider. My mission: to post 3 times a week about my life in Rochester. Every post has some kind of Rochester connection, whether it’s going to the public market, donating clothes to a local charity, or other Rochester bloggers.

I have a long list of ideas of things to write about (if I could only find it) and spend my days thinking about how everything I’m doing could possibly turn into a blog post. It’s fun, though, and I am getting paid. So when I go out to do stuff, I’m really earning money… Hmm…I think that’s how travel writing works.

However, it hasn’t left me a lot of time/blogging thought power for this blog so it’s been sadly neglected. Well, that and working for a living, finding new clients, doing work for current clients, working on the business website, etc. has been using up my time. The Exhausto-Boy has been using up the rest of my energy, leaving me good for only a quick dinner, folding laundry and an episode of Charmed by the time he’s gone to bed.

I hear him wimpering in his crib after a nap, so I’d better jump off and give him some loving.