Category Archives: Work

Growing Up or Growing Into?

by

It’s Saturday Night y’all!  The boyfriend is hanging out with his brother, and my kid is asleep.  Logically the next step is brew some coffee and write some bullshit.  So yeah.  Here I am.  On the internet.  Three minutes ago I had a realization, something that hit me so hard, so fast, that I immediately felt that need to get the words out of my head.  I can’t find my favorite pen, so blog it is.

I am a New Sarah.

Over the past 15 years, I have reinvented myself several times.  No one Sarah was completely the same.  Some Sarah’s were no good, some Sarah’s were too work-involved, some Sarah’s were at the bottom of the bottle, and some Sarah’s were domesticated housewifes.  So here we go again, I finally realized that I am a completely new Sarah again.

This new Me has been evolving for roughly 3 years.  The Divorce from “He who shall not be named” threw me to rock-bottom.  I wasn’t the best person, I wasn’t the best mom, and I wasn’t a good friend.  Honestly, I didn’t even like me.  Not even a little bit.  Actually, if Present-Day-Me met Me-From-3-Years ago, I’d slap her.  Or me.  Whatever, you get the gist.

I had to have a couple of major blows to my life to straighten out.  Those blows sucked, but I finally got it figured out and apparently just ran with it.  Usually my reinventions are somewhat similar.  Some sort of aspect stays with the next Me, thankfully, this time, the only thing that has stuck is my fuck-you-I-can-do-this attitude.  I think I’m just so amazed because of it.  Looking back on 3 years ago, I am borderline ashamed.  I have moments of deep shame, but then I remind myself that everything I did, caused, or went through, kicked my ass enough to learn from it.  Nonetheless, I am glad to say goodbye to the Old Sarah.  I am glad to kiss that life goodbye and stop glancing over my shoulder to make sure it’s not following me.

Today was a perfect day.  The Boyfriend had to work, so we had a Noodle and Mama Day.  We relaxed together a bit this morning, and after a quick breakfast hopped in the car and headed out.  We ran a couple of errands and then had lunch together.  After lunch, we went straight to the local farmer’s market and bought mushrooms (Noodle), Onions (as a complement to Noodle’s mushrooms), and peanut butter cookies (Me, duh).  Then we went shopping, we roamed around a couple of stores, causing a bit of trouble and looking for deals.  At Target I learned that my kid can con cookies off of ANY bakery in ANY store ANNNNND go back for SECONDS.

We came back to the house and set up some venison chops to marinate, and went right back outside.  It was a gorgeous day, and I don’t think either one of us could stay inside another day.  I had bought her a big jug of bubbles, so I sipped my iced coffee and she blew and chased down and stomped hundreds of bubbles.  A good grilled dinner and some relaxing, and she’s tucked into bed asleep.  I managed to clean the house before I ended up on my computer.

What made me realize the change in myself is that as I brewed my cup of coffee I realized I was/am completely happy and content.  That moment, as my coffee brewed, I thought back and realized how different not only I was, but how different I felt compared to a few years ago.  I finally learned how to live for me (and my daughter) instead of to someone else’s standards, or how I thought I was *supposed* to be.  I finally learned to love ME and my life, all the little quirks and troubles.  I learned to be happy with myself and enjoy the little things, and do it sober.

Things are not perfect and this life has had some pretty shitty moments, but now I realize that it will never be perfect, but I can make it as damn close as I can, and enjoy the ride there.

 

It feels good to stop looking into the past.

A Working Mom’s Exasperation

by

You asked why I don’t like you, but really you should ask why I don’t respect you.

I just got home, 12 hours after I left my house this morning.  I have to pull some over time because we lost a girl at the office.  That’s okay with me, extra cash on my paycheck never hurts, and I’m still home by dinner.  I guess me and the kid are going to head into the office tomorrow so I can finish up some stuff, that way I won’t have to spend that much extra time there next week.  I miss my kid during the week while she’s at school, I don’t like missing her any longer.  So we have plans to hang out with her aunt tomorrow and some fun activities for Sunday as well.

I work hard at my job because I pride myself in being successful.  I love my “grown-up” job because it allows me to make enough money to pay for my daughter’s school, clothes, and of course the basics.  I make enough now, that with some budgeting, I can afford fun stuff and vacations.  I work this hard because I like caring for my family and knowing I can provide for them, and I want to set a good example for my girl.  I love my “grown-up” job because I work during her school hours and a tad bit before and after.  That way she’s home with me as much as possible and we can spend time together.

I take pride in my home and in my family.  The majority of my actions are involving them.  I make decisions that will benefit not just me but my entire family.  I believe that raising your child is supposed to be the most important job of a mother.  I do my best to raise her right and be a good mother.  To provide a loving, stable home in which she can thrive despite life’s obstacles.

I have worked long and hard to fix my life after I divorced my ex-husband.  I worked all sorts of jobs until I found one that allowed me to spend more time with her and afford my bills at the same time.  I learned how to deal with the fact that she is in school now, and I miss her dearly when she’s there.  I bought and fixed up a house, and do my best to have a family dinner every night.  Call me traditional, but it’s good enough for me.  I went from a stay at home mom in an abusive relationship to a working mother who has found a career and is thriving.

You wonder why I don’t like you.  You stand for everything I strive not to be.  You are the stereotypical welfare mom.  You defraud the government for more welfare by claiming people you shouldn’t and by working for cash.  You work at a bar, and hang out there when you’re not working, all the while insisting that you can’t get a new job because there’s nothing out there.  Right.  Um retail.  You really don’t have any bills since you don’t pay for food, childcare, or medical.  I don’t even think you pay rent.  Get a day job.  You’ve been working that shit hole bar for 3 years.  Time to move on.  I don’t respect you because you are a poor excuse for a mom.  You choose your friends and your bar-job over your son.  You say “Oh he’s only with me 1 day this week” like it’s no big deal, when by friday, I miss my daughter so much by the time I pick her up from school that I want nothing more than to hug her, and I still see her every day. Your son will grow up to remember that you were not there when he needed you most.  You complain when the government finally catches you ripping off welfare and blame everyone but yourself.  Because obviously, since you’re a single mom, the world owes you something.  You shouldn’t have to work hard to take care of your children.  You shouldn’t have to work at all!  You shouldn’t have to spend time with your kids, because hey, that’s what your parents are for!  God forbid you use the money you *do* earn to buy your child food, when the government pays you for FREE.

So moral of the story here?  Don’t tell me you know how hard it is, when you clearly don’t know.  You haven’t had to raise your own child in 3 years, nor do you even pay your own bills.  Once you grow up and realise that you actually have to BE there for your child, that your child ranks far over your social life, once you get a job that provides for yourself and your child, or hell even SHOW interest or LOOK…. then I might respect you.

Everyone has their low points, hell, in the past 10 years I’ve been on a got-damned rollercoaster.  But you know what?  I picked myself up off the ground and improved myself and my life to benefit my children.  There’s nothing wrong with working at a bar, as long as you make decent money and spend time with your child.  But once a week, is not it.  There’s absolutely nothing wrong with going out and having fun, but if your fun DIRECTLY IMPACTS YOUR CHILD, it’s time to stop.  Everyone hits a financial hard point, and some of us (myself included) have needed state aid.  But it’s there for emergencies, until you improve your situation, it’s not a way of life.  It’s there to help you up when you need a hand, and that’s it.  When you’ve been at the same rock-bottom-point of your life for 3 years, and you don’t see a problem with it, it’s time to grow up.  It’s not about you anymore, it’s about your child.

[I apologize to anyone if I offended them, this is my own personal opinion after being on both sides of the fence.  I do not have respect for someone who lives on welfare for years.  Nor do I have respect for parents who don't see their children on their own choice.  I don't have respect for people who are in a shit situation but refuse to fix their lives, even worse expect other people to fix it for them.  Sorry.]

Spoiling Yourself, Just Do It

by

Anyone who has kids will understand this, hell singletons and child-free people will get it too.  It’s something I refer to as Mommy-Guilt.  Ever since I had A, I have always felt guilty spending money on myself.  If I could finally convince myself that I need to buy some clothes (in a regular store – I’m also a thrifter), I’d never make it to the register with the *one* pair of jeans.  If I did, I’d curse myself all the way out the damned door.  If I made it to the car, 9/10 times I’d return it before I even got out of the parking lot.

I’ve always been a bit frugal (read: CHEAP), but after A was born it got out of hand.  We’d go to the store with the intention of getting everyone a few new outfits, and I could never bring myself to get myself something.  It was always “Well, the baby needs something new” or “I really don’t need more than the jeans I have, A needs new shoes (again)” or “You know, I have to pay a couple bills, I don’t need this *right* now anyway.”  It didn’t matter if I was down to two pairs of undies and my socks were ruined, I put myself off because something always came before me.

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized a little bit behind my thinking, and in the process got angry at myself.  I got angry at my ex-husband for enabling it.  What I had been doing was putting myself at the bottom of the list.  I had the mindset that I was the least important, I didn’t deserve to buy things for myself.  Who was I to spend money on myself when that money could go to (insert random bill here) or something new for A, hell, new toys for the cats came before I did.  I was perfectly capable of buying another new jacket for my ex-husband or another set of baby shoes for A.  Which is not bad in and of itself, but when it came to things I needed, I neglected myself.  I felt like everyone else deserved more than I did.  I felt like a “bad-mom” or a “bad-wife” if I spent money on myself.  It seemed that surely that money could go somewhere else.

You know what?  It could go somewhere else.  I could skip getting myself clothes and save the money for the next bill.  I could skip that new CD download because A will need something soon.  I could put myself last because there will always be something else that needs me to throw money at it.  No matter what you do, there will *always* be something else you could be saving your money for.  Your kids need to be your top priority, but why aren’t you on top too?

You need to take care of yourself too.  You need to treat yourself every once in a while for your own sanity.  As a woman and a mother I know I’ll always put my child and family before myself, but after almost 27 years it finally hit me.  I deserve it.

…

So today we had to run to the store to get the animals some food and pick up milk and bread.  I took a shower and was drying my hair off and I thought about buying a new round brush so I could do my hair right.  Last week I had gotten my first haircut in over a year but had nothing to style it with.  I shrugged, I figured I’d just keep using headbands.  No big deal, it’ll grow out long enough for a clip soon enough.  I turned around, stepped on my last clip and it broke.  I picked it up and threw it away.  I’d buy another one some day.

I went to get dressed.  (I’m very thrifty – so I do have skirts, leggings and a couple pairs of jeans – I love Goodwill!)  I noticed that a lot of my socks and undies were worn.  I tossed out the ones that weren’t worth wearing anymore, or had too many toe holes.  There wasn’t much left.  I tried to think of the last time I bought some undies or socks for myself while I tried to find my bra.  I have one bra that still functions.  I found it in the laundry basket, one of the straps was almost frayed through.  I laughed, I knew the last time I had bought a bra, it was the weekend after my divorce was final… ’09.

I finished throwing on some clothes, got Noodle dressed and put on my boots.  I was super lucky at christmas, my parents bought me two pairs of boots for Winter.  I love them and have worn them daily.  I did however just buy Noodle her spring shoes, and she wanted to wear the gym shoes today.  I dug through the closet and realized there were a lot of busted and old shoes that needed tossing (we all wear our shoes until they are in pieces or Noodle outgrows them).  I started tossing the old ones in a bag, the use-able ones in a tote for the thrift.  Once I found her shoes and the closet was organized, I realized that I had one pair of gym shoes and flip flops from dollar general.  I thought about shoes for spring, then instantly thought “well, A will need clothes for spring soon, I’ll worry about it then.”

Something snapped.  It hit me, all of the things I neglect for myself.  All of the things I promised I’d buy myself when I got my promotion, all of the things I promised I’d get with my tax return when the promotion came and went and I still put myself off.  Damnit, I had bought something for everyone but me,  I wanted functional things too.

I dragged Ry and Nood out of the house and to the store.  We picked up the things we needed for the animals and the house, and then we went over to Target.  I told Ry that I was going shopping and told my mind that I *would* pay.

By the time I was at the register I had a pair of flats and a cute pair of wedges, 4 bras, headbands and a brush, bodywash (not the dollar general variety lol), post-its and pens (work), and some containers to organize pet crap with that I had been eyeing.  I had to think about anything and everything to keep my mind off of the money I was spending.  The nice register girl rang me up and I swiped my card.  The receipt printed out and I snapped at Ry and Noodle to get out to the car.

The whole way home I kept trying to justify that I needed these things.  I kept thanking Ry for “letting” me buy things (haha, I control the finances), and reassuring (no one but me) that I had money for all the bills and such.  I forced myself to take a deep breath and relax.

I do deserve nice new bras and shoes once in a while.  I do deserve to buy basic hygiene crap even if it isn’t the generic version.  I do need to put myself first once in a while.  I need to remind myself to treat myself and take care of myself too.  I need to get a haircut more than once every year, I need to buy undies and such when I need them.  I need to buy us girls new nail polish, I need to wear shoes with out holes in them.  If the bills are paid, my child has what she needs, there is plenty of food, then yes, I need to take care of myself too.

 

 

I just wish it didn’t take so long for me to realize this.

I wish that it wasn’t an acceptable way of thinking.

Happy Sunday everyone, make sure that you treat yourself once in a while.  You deserve it.

My Bitter Moment of the Day

by

Today I am home with the kiddo, her tummy is upset and she didn’t get a whole lot of sleep. I picked her up from school yesterday, before she even got her jacket on she started complaining of her tummy hurting.  I didn’t think too much of it, “my tummy hurts” has become the most recent excuse to avoid trying something new at dinner.

Halfway home, her banter about how her day went cut off and a meek “I have to go to the bathroom” came out of the backseat.  ”Honey, we’re about 2 minutes from home, you’ll have to hold it.”  ”Okay” she said and the rest of the car ride was quiet.

We pulled into my driveway, and she opened her door right away.  As soon as she had two feet on the ground she bent over and threw up.  My mouth just dropped.  ”See mom, that’s why I had to go to the bathroom.”  Pretty talented if you ask me, when I have to puke, I can’t hold it for 4 blocks.

So we got inside, with me hoping she just ate too much at snack time and she made it 2 minutes before she puked again.  She puked on and off all night and didn’t sleep too well when she did manage to sleep.  I got up with my alarm this morning at 4:45, checked on her and let my boss know that I couldn’t come in today.

I’m sitting on the couch, with a half asleep child laying next to me.  PBSkids on the tv and Noodle barely paying attention unless I go to change the channel at which she bolts awake and tells me “Mom! I’m watching that!”

She’s feeling a bit better this morning, the puking has stopped for the most part and she ate some dry cereal.  She’s just out of it and wants to relax.  Which is fine with me, we’ve been relaxing on the couch together and I’ve been getting some of the laundry done.  We’re going to try something light for lunch in a little bit.  Hopefully that goes well.

…

This last week has been rough on me for a multitude of reasons.  I haven’t been feeling well to top everything off, which just makes for a cranky me in general.  So each day, on my way to work I think about how everything has turned out.  I’m happy I suppose, but the grass is always greener.

- Regardless of my feelings now or anything else, I am glad I divorced A’s dad.  He wasn’t good for me, and I’m not so sure about for A either.  I am glad I took that step and I will never regret the action to have a safer, happier life.-

Life is stable over here finally.  Both Ryan and I have good jobs with steady paychecks, he likes his job which makes getting him up in the morning that much easier.  Noodle has a school in which she (and I) love, she has wonderful teachers and is thriving.

It just bugs me.  Up until a few months before my divorce, I was a stay at home mom.  In my family (this does not pertain to you, it’s not meant to offend you) it was important to me to be able to stay home with my kid(s).  I could have never predicted that my marriage would turn out the way it would and I’m lucky I’ve been employed since then, but shit.  I finally have a job with normal hours (I’ve been there for 2 years next month) so that makes life a little easier, but I’d still rather be at home and taking care of my kid.  I never thought I’d end up in the work force full-time, I always assumed that until A was out of the house, I’d be a part-timer so I could focus on her and our home.

So post-divorce I’m a working mother.  It’s just aggravating and I can feel my knuckles go white on that drive into the office.  It’s hard especially when shit at the office has been annoying me.  So I’m driving in to a job that makes me want to lobotomize myself, because of which my daughter goes to school 2 hours early and stays 1 hour late (6:30ish to 4:30ish) (which I realize isn’t as bad as it was before my schedule change but still).  I drive in to a job that I automatically lose 1/3 of my pay to the extra hours at daycare (the ex was ordered to pay half of school/daycare costs and child support, but that hasn’t happened since I was divorced in ’09). I drive into a job that I normally like, where I make decent pay (despite A’s school fees) but because of it, dinner becomes a chore, daycare spends more time with my kid than I do, and weekends are so jammed up with shit from during the week that there isn’t a whole lot of time for fun.

The topic has come up with Ryan that once he gets his raise in a couple months, that I can stay home.  Trust me on this one, there has been numerous times this past week that that seemed like a great idea.  It’s hard to think it’s not.  However, the grass is always greener.  Even if Ryan makes enough for a comfortable living, we’d still lose the money that my job brings in to supplement and save.   I wouldn’t have money for the extra things for the kids and wouldn’t be able to put money in our “going-on-vacation-finally” fund or “get-the-hell-out-of-my-house-kids!” fund.  Two things that I definitely like putting money in.  Plus with this economy, I don’t think I could walk away from a job I (mostly) like that is pretty damned stable, and rely solely on one income again.  You never know what could happen, and I know I’d regret leaving my job if Ryan ever lost his.

 

The grass is always greener, I’ll just keep repeating that.  In the meantime I’m off to get the kid in the bath and find something for lunch.

Expectations are a Bitch and a Half

by

I am the ultimate pessimist.  I am.  I’ve been a raging-skull-punch-you-on-the-way-down pessimist as long as I can remember.  I always explain it like this: Hope for the best but always assume it won’t happen because life sucks and you should just get a helmet.  Sometimes, always expecting the negative in a situation bums me out and irritates people but you know what?  Screw off, there is a perk!!  If you expect nothing to happen, or plan for worst case scenario, when things do go your way it’s even better!

Ie:  Holding out for a new position at work.

Expectation: My ass getting canned and THEN denied unemployment.

Reality: Received promotion and desk with sparkles in it.  (You can’t beat sparkles.) (Stop laughing.)

Being a pessimist has almost become a safety blanket for me.  It’s just one more way I protect myself from getting hurt or upset when shit hits the fan… you know, because I expected it to, so I was prepared.

The only catch is is that people are not included in this mess of a safety net.  For some reason, my hopes expectations of people are just as high as I have set for myself.  This includes everyone, I’m talking from my neighbors to my boyfriend, from my kid to the little shit who lives 5 houses down.  Everyone.  Yes.  I’m talking about you.  I’m talking about family, I’m talking about doctors, I’m talking about co-workers, I’m talking about that kid who changed my oil last weekend.  I’m talking about the lady who owns the laundry mat all the way to the got-damned President of the United States.  I’m also talking about the person who is criticizing the fuck out of me for my run-on sentences.  Yes, you too asshole.  I have high-ass expectations for all of you.

“Oh but Sarah, you can’t expect that out of me?!  It’s to harrrd!”

Bite me.  You’re talking to a Single-Mom (not-even-child-support. Nada from the Dad.) who has been suffering with “Moderate to Severe” active Crohns Disease for 6 (5 diagnosed) years.  I went from working 2 restaurant/bar gigs AND odd jobs to an office job all the while trying *not* to die or live in the hospital.  Throw in some domestic abuse, a failed marriage, and sprinkle some good old anxiety and depression on top.  If I can do it, you can do it.

My life isn’t easy, and it’s not the hardest out there, but if I can live up to my expectations of what a person should be, how they should act, then so can you.

It’s not even that my expectations are phenomenal or anything, I always thought they were run-of-the-mill.  Yet, time and time again I am informed that I expect too much.

Too much?  Maybe.

I expect you to not be an asshole.  No seriously.  Just stop being an asshole to everyone.  How about instead of copping an attitude at everyone who looks your way, you can try to say something nice to them or *gasp* try and help another human being with something.

I expect you to be polite and have manners.  (Half of you just choked.)  (Good.)  I am one of the first people to laugh at or crack a horrible blow-job joke.  I am.  However, I hold the door for people coming out after me.  If someone drops something, I try and pick it up for them.  If I bump into someone, I apologize.  Christ people, it’s not that hard.  You walk past someone you smile and say “Hey” or do that stupid head nod thing that people do.  Oh and two words.  ”Please” and fucking “Thank you” <- I especially expect children to say it. (I had two little girls, aged 4, in my office today while their mom was with my co-worker.  They said Please and Thank You for every single crayon I gave them, they even said it to *each other* as they fought over who got to draw with the purple-sparkle pen.  If two little girls can say it, so can grown ass people.)

Work.  If you’re over the legal age to work, I expect you to work.  I don’t care what the hell you do, I don’t.  I just expect you to do it, do it well and not be fucking lazy.  I get it, people have lazy days, most days I decided I’d rather go back to bed before I even leave my bed.  That doesn’t excuse you from doing your damned job.  I’ve also done the dead-end job thing.  I know that if you work hard sometimes it just doesn’t get you anywhere.  My examples:  Jiffy Lube, all 3 greek restaurants I worked at, Elder-care (promotion wise), most retail, the majority of sales (small ticket items), etc.  You know why you should work hard?  Just in case.  Just in case you might get a chance at a different position or a promotion.  Because you should work to *earn* your money, not mooch it.  Also you have to work with other people, so this resorts back to “not being an asshole”.  Don’t make your co-workers days hell.  Work.  It’s called “work-ethic” and you should have it, more importantly we should instill it in our children.

I expect you to be educated.  I’m not talking about college, I’m not even talking about high school.  I expect you to know what’s going on around you in the world, to care what’s happening to other people.  I expect you to have an opinion, even if it differs from mine.  I expect you to pay attention to something beyond the new trinket you just bought.  There is important stuff going on in our world right now, I don’t expect you to be aware of everything, or know every minute detail, because I sure don’t… but I expect a decent attempt.  I want people to have a brain of their own, not to be a mindless sheep.  Why?  Stupid people piss me off.  So don’t be stupid.  Borrow a book, read a newspaper.  You know, Yahoo! has news and Google isn’t just there to look up porn.  Use your brain.

 

I’m not saying you have to be perfect.  I’m not.  I’m far fucking from it.  Sometimes I smoke too much, sometimes I snap at people through out the day because I’m cranky.  Sometimes while you’re talking I imagine strangling you so you stop rambling on about your new manicure.  I have lazy days and I have “Do I really have to put on pants??” days. But I try to be a good person, I try to be nice and courteous, I try to do my job to the best of my ability and I try to be aware and active in the world around me.  That’s all I’m asking of other people, just do it.  I’m a pessimist a million and one days out of a million and two.  I am an optimist when it comes to other people.  If you fuck-heads take that away from me, imagine how miserable I am going to make the world around me. (ha)

 

At least try not to be an asshole.  That’s a start.

How Did This Happen!?

by

When exactly did I sign up to be an adult?  Does anyone know?  I’m pretty sure I was coloring in my coloring book one minute and the next I’m paying my mortgage.  Whew! That was a fun ride, I blinked and 15 fucking years flew by.  Today, the stark realization that I’m a grown-up has hit me… at the tender age of 26.  I don’t know why it’s struck so hard, but it has, and it’s mind-boggling.

Sure, I have a 5 year old and have been making said mortgage payments for 4 years, but for some reason, I just now realized it.  I guess Adult-hood is funny like that, it just sneaks up on you, right as you’re trying to color in Hello Kitty’s stupid hair-bow with your new crayons.  I’ve never quite felt like an adult, even when I was in college, or when I had Noodle, or when I closed on my house.  Never quite felt like it, it was almost like I was acting a part.  That this wasn’t my real life, and I was just playing along.

Where I spend too much time...

Where I spend too much time…

I’m on my lunch break right now, I’ve locked myself inside my office with the intention of snooping the internet for an hour.  Oddly enough, sitting at my desk, setting my paperwork aside, that’s when it hit me.  I’m a grown up.  I have my own office at work, my own desk strewn with paperwork and a photo of my daughter in a neat little frame she made.  I will leave here today, pick up my daughter from school and go home and make dinner.  We will eat dinner, I will help her with her homework, clean up and lay down to read.

It’s not like this routine is anything new.  I’ve been doing it for months upon months upon months, but maybe now it’s that I actually enjoy it.  Maybe it’s because now every day isn’t filled with a sense of monotony or longing for a chance to go out.  Maybe now it’s because I’d rather be at home than out and about (most days).  Maybe it’s because I finally got my head on straight and stopped taking for granted the wonderful things and people I already have in my life.  I think that coming to terms with the fact that my life does have some routine in it, let me start scheduling things outside of that routine (vacations, renovations, soccer (for Nood) and such). Quite possibly it has something to do with the fact that I achieved my goals I had set years ago and I finally realized it.  I finally took pride in what I had accomplished and with that pride, I set new goals for the next handful of years.  Life is finally smoothing out enough that I (we) can move on and forward.

Being an adult is a funny thing.  It’s a funny thing I tell yah.

 

But being an adult doesn’t mean that I’m not going to go sit on Facebook for my last 30 minutes of lunch while I sip my iced coffee. :)

Oh Look, it’s 2013.

by

It’s New Year’s Eve.  Again.  You know, I think I’m starting to get old, I didn’t even realize it was New Year’s Eve until I hopped on the Book of Face this morning.  Crap.  How the fuck is it already almost 2013?  I just now started writing “2012″ the first time on my paperwork at the office.  Damn it all to hell, now it’s time to start over.

This year has just flown by, maybe it’s because I AM getting older, maybe it’s just because I’ve been busier this year than years past.  I don’t know, but it seems like just yesterday the leaves changed color, last week, we had the AC on.  I blinked and Christmas is over.  I remember being a kid, and the entire year seemed to crawl by.  Crap.  Maybe I am getting old.

So every year, at year’s end, we all tend to think about what we’re grateful for.  We think about what we could do better in the next year and make all of those stupid resolutions.  I’m no different, this year has taught me how strong I really am.  I’ve gone through some tough shit this year and grew because of it, I closed one chapter of my life and started on a brand new (scary as shit) one.  My co-worker said it best, since I started last year, I’ve done a 180 and you know what?  I like it.

When I started making changes in my life, I thought it’d be grueling, that I’d hate it.  I dreaded ever single step I took, but I found out that each step I took made me stronger.  I like how things are ending up, life needs a lot of work yet, but I’m headed in the right direction.  This next year?  I hope it’s more of the same steps.

So resolutions.  I should make some.  I usually never do but hey, what the hell.

1.  Learn how to balance being a Mom with being every-fucking-thing else.  In 2012, I focused on fixing my “mom-skills” and being a better mom.  It’s been awesome, and Noodle and I have grown ever so close.  When you’re a “Single-Mom” or when the father’s out of the picture (even if he is is calling again – long story), every decision you make revolves around your kids.  Hell.  Normal moms often are guilty of “Well, I really want a latte, but I’m sure that $2.94 can be used for something else, (insert random kid’s name here) really wants (insert random kid item here).” In 2013, I need to learn how to keep working on my relationship with my daughter, helping her thrive, but I also need to learn to take care of myself.  Balance, I do not have it.  Haha, so I’m going to focus on balance.

2.  Trust.  In this next year, I want to learn how to trust people again.  2012 had me working on forgiveness.  I spent all year trying to let go of grudges, and accept some of the blame for my problems.  I forgave people that royally fucked me over, and people that walked out of my life.  I stood up and took the blame where it was due.  I forgave others and I forgave myself.  Now I need to work on my trust so I can work on relationships with people who are close to me.  I’ve already started that and grown closer with my parents, but now, I need to learn how to open my heart to my friends.  So trust it is.

3.  Enjoy the Small Things.  So on this Let’s-Change-My-Whole-Life trip I went on this year, I became pre-occupied with my To-Do list.  Which is no different than any other year.  I’d accomplish one thing (whether mental, relationship-wise, work, or house) and immediately focus on how much more I had to do to accomplish the next obstacle.  I spent a lot of this year worrying.  I want to spend more of next year enjoying the small things I took for granted last year.  Iced coffee by my garden, quiet moments to journal, nights out to dance.  You name it.  I’m starting early.  This morning I got up and started getting overwhelmed by my to-do list.  After Ryan went to work, instead of instantly getting moving, I sat down at my desk and enjoyed my coffee.  Now writing.  The laundry waiting to be folded can wait a little bit.  Mornings with just me and Noodle are only once a week, and she’s occupied with that horrendous furby thing so I have time alone.  (Btw, I didn’t think furbys could get any more creepy… I was wrong, 10 years later and they now practically give me nightmares.) So.  Yeah.  I will enjoy the small things.

 

So it’s about to be a new year, 2013.  I’m excited.  I just know though, that I’ll blink and it’ll be New Years Eve again.  So here’s to my best effort.  I hope everyone has a safe new years.  I’m staying in tonight, so those out there, if you drink please don’t drive, be safe, and I’ll see everyone next year.  Happy Holidays.

Humanity?

by

To start this off, let me just say that I don’t have high standards for most people.  Or rather, I don’t have hope for most people.  When I meet you, you start at level 0.  Only through your actions do you earn respect and raise the bar I’ve automatically set for you.  Maybe that’s not very nice, and let me think about it…. fuck you.

That’s just the way I am, always have been.  Call me a bitch, I don’t care, it’s worked out well for me.  The benefit of it is that when I put myself out there, I am barely ever wrong, and I rarely regret it.  If I consider you my friend, chances are that I’m not going anywhere and will sell my 2nd kidney for you.

So on that note, as most of you have read, I was given a promotion at work.  The position I used to have opened up and my boss scheduled a few interviews.  I thought of a couple of people and made up a good case in my head for why those people would make a good fit.  A few times I thought of this kid who works in our shop.  Let’s call him youngin’, why?  Because it’s not nice to talk about people on the web and frankly I think I just figured out his real name today, I’ve been calling him youngin’ and princess since he started.

This kid started as a temp in our shop.  When he came in for his interview, I laughed at him because he showed up in a nice button up shirt and slacks… for a job in the shop… where he’d be covered in dust, sludge and dirt.  When he was hired, I thanked my boss because he was far less creepy than the last one but I figured he wouldn’t be around long.

Well youngin’s first impression of me was me screaming at a co-worker, as I do most mornings, out in the shop.  The fact that he decided to smoke a cigarette with me a few days later blew my mind, but whatever.  I had asked him how he liked the job so far, and his response shocked me.  I knew he was young (just 21) and frankly, the bar was set low.  He stated that he liked the job just fine but was worried about the layoff after the holiday, that he really wanted to be hired on.

Not many kids, or rather teens and young adults really want to work.  Not around this county, a lot of them don’t have too, which cool, good for them.  So that he was already worried about the inevitable layoff, (we slow down after Christmas) instantly gave him respect.

I kind of brushed it off beyond a few remarks to one of my bosses about hiring him on full-time.  You know, one because the kid impressed me, and two, I like being annoying at 8 o’clock in the morning.  Then a couple of weeks ago, kid came in and asked me and my co-worker if we had a brochure so he could memorize all of our quartz colors.  I think we both stared at him for a minute before we started to look.  Maybe this proves my laziness (or the fact that I’m “the granite-girl” or just hate quartz), but I’ve been there for a year and half and couldn’t point out two colors in the scores we have.  Nor do I care too.  This kid was a temp, yet he still wanted to put in the time to memorize a shit-ton of colors.  Bam.  Respect earned.

So I brought up the kid to my other coworkers.  Why not give him the clerk job?  There are many, many benefits to hiring him, which I’m not going to list right now.  Lets just say he’s far more useful than my constant screaming and bitching in the shop.  My co-workers agreed, so we brought it to the bossman.  After an interview that me and a coworker gleefully interrupted and criticized and a couple of days to think, Youngin’ got the job.  He starts on Monday.

So, tomorrow is Saturday.  I’m typically off on the weekends but I’m going to head into the office anyway. I have some work to catch up on, and I have to finish organizing my new office.  That, and my old (awesome granite) desk is a mess.  I was telling Ry that I wanted to take some time and clean it up and set up the new computer for Youngin’, that some of the files that are now his needed organizing.  Ry asked why I cared so much and it got me thinking of all of this.

I’m just impressed.  I mean, the kid seems like a really hard worker even if he’s not the best at all the jobs in the shop.  He wants to learn, he wants to support himself and do well.  He’s making efforts that I didn’t even think of.. um.. ever.  I want the kid to do well, and I hope he does.  I mean hell, I could be completely wrong, he could suck hairy nuts in the office, and I’ll eat my words.  But you know he earned my respect (for now) and I have no problem helping him learn or sticking my neck out for him.

I guess what I’m getting at is my way of thinking, or rather judging people.  I’m sure it’s the reason I have so few real friends, but I’m okay with that.  Just knowing kid has gotten the chance at this job, and could possibly thrive at it and support his own youngin’ (hey.. maybe I’m just relating to him because of the young-parent thing… shut up I used to be a “too young for kids” parent) makes me happy.

 

Now hopefully us girls don’t completely obliterate him.

 

 

Taking Financial Charge ( Read: Growing up Blows )

by

Ahhhh, finances.  The one and only thing that gives me enough of a migraine that I want to shoot myself.  In the foot.  Three times.  Why my foot?  Because my head hurts too much from staring at these goddamned numbers!  Finances.  I’ve been told it’s part of growing up and growing old.  Checking Accounts, Savings CDs, 401Ks and Insurance Policies.  Mortgages, Equity, Taxes and Profit.  You know, I’d like to quit being an adult now, this shit is kind of pissing me off.

So for the past few months I’ve been playing catch up, I got behind on my mortgage and it took that to see the big picture of my debt.  I had been ignoring a large chunk of debt that had just been sitting on my credit score, and getting behind on my mortgage made me look at all of it.  So what wonderful conclusion did I come to?  What mind-blowing epiphany?  Well, I’m still going to ignore a fairly large chunk of it.  Ha.  Take that responsibility.   I have a fairly large amount of medical debt, most of it I’m not even aware of, they’re still trying to figure out which address is mine, and I refuse to call on the accounts the credit assholes sent me with my credit score.  That’ll be my next project.  Oh, and the car my ex-husband got repo-ed?  Yeah, I’ll ignore that too.  They keep wanting to settle and the amount gets lower and lower, that can be pushed off until they get REALLY desperate.

However, there are some things I CAN take care of now that my mortgage is current.  Like the previous entry stated, I’ve agreed to super-duper-low payments for my student loans.  As long as I manage to keep the money in my account for each debit for 9 months, I will no longer be delinquent and it will be off of my credit report.  My credit card also has a high balance (read: low balance but not acceptable to me) which I am going to start paying off.  As well as minor bills here and there that have managed to pop up (read: lab work).  So to do all of this I have started to alter the rough budget I have (not) been following.

So I’m sitting here, paying bills, tweaking my budget and I hate to say it, but it’s… nice.  I’ve never been one to let things get too far behind but getting everything up to par is free-ing.  These next couple of weeks will be tight, as the next paycheck of mine goes straight to the mortgage, but Ry’s paychecks can cover the smaller things as well as pay off some of the crap he has to deal with.  It’s a shame though, this budget I’ve come up with?  I’ll have to tweak in 3 weeks.  Why?  

Supposedly my first paycheck will come with my promotion on it.

Yup.  Yuppppp.  Little Miss Sarah got a promotion at work.  It took a year and a half, and some very unfortunate shiiiite at work went down, but I got the promotion.  Talk about the best holiday gift ever, both the cash portion and moving up in an office I was scared was stagnant.  So this year may have been tough on finances but hopefully this next year will even out.

So as far as I’m concerned.  2012 can bite me, 2013 needs to get here.  I’ve got a clean slate (as clean as possible lol) with my pocketbook, a good job, a great relationship and a wonderful family.  Time to continue on the up and up.  :)

Choices

by

Everyone is always so surprised at what is inside my head.  Not necessarily my thought process or the majority of opinions, a good chunk of my coworkers and friends have gotten used to my outbursts and off the wall comments.  I guess for a stereotype, liberal, single mother of one, once divorced and with a Chronic Illness, I’m dead on.  Yet one thought, one opinion or rather personal choice (or in this case, want) always throws the ideas that people base me off of right out the fucking window.

You tell me what you see?  I’m 26 years old with a 5 year old.  I’ve already been divorced, and literally the only thing that keeps me out of work besides the kiddo being sick is a straight up hospitalization.  I’ve worked for every scrap I have and bought my own house by the time I was 23 and have done my best to earn enough money to give my child a nice life.  I love work and strive for more mental stimulation.  I started college just because my brain felt… dumb.  I’ve worked in almost every field and eventually I’d like to open my own business or get a higher up management position…..

[Now here's what throws people off, this has gotten me raised eyebrows since my daughter was born, and was reiterated when I was talking with my co-worker last month.]

… if I have to continue working.

When I was pregnant with Noodle, I sat down with my ex-husband over dinner one night.  He wasn’t paying attention so I threw a packet of crackers at him.

“A mother is supposed to be at home for her children.  I want to stay at home with her.”

Much to my surprise he was more than okay with that.  So I was a Stay at Home Mom until I bought my house and got a job (my marriage was deteriorating and the end was ever so apparently near).  While my brain was dying (hence, starting college), I enjoyed staying at home, teaching my daughter and taking care of my (then) apartment.  I liked having dinner ready for my husband when he got home and having family dinners together avoiding the globs of pureed peas my daughter loved to fling.

It was the way it was supposed to be.

When I started working again, at first it wasn’t too bad.  Noodle spent time at three different friend’s houses, all three of which I trust with my own life.  They all were more like extended family, so it didn’t bother me much, beyond my selfish reasoning.  It hurt to hear about what she had learned to do each day, it bothered me that I wasn’t the one taking her to the park or to a birthday party.  Granted my friends were wonderful enough to take photos so I could still see her antics, but it bothered me.

Then.  Then, I got a full time job during normal hours (I always worked 2nd/3rd shift).  Then I got a second job (the spring before last).  So I entered Noodle in daycare.  This daycare is the same one she’s at now, she went to preschool there and now Kindergarten.  She’s thriving and each day it’s more apparent that I have a very intelligent, vibrant little girl.  However, now that I’m back to working full time during the day, I don’t get to spend that much time with her.  A mere 45 minutes in the morning, and 2.5 hours at night (I’m a strict bedtime mom, we get up too early to do otherwise).  Monday through Friday.  I spend more time with my co-workers than my kiddo, and she spends more time with her teachers (whom I love) than me.  Such is the life of a working mother.

Do I believe that working mothers are horrible?  Oh far from it, especially single mothers.  It takes a strong woman to be able to balance work and home life and survive both equally.  I don’t look down on career women or moms that choose to work for whatever reason.  My point is, I just wish I didn’t have too.

I was raised with a stay at home mom, when we became school age, she got a job during the time we were at school. (OH MY GOD, my mother worked AT MY SCHOOL.  Talk about getting double the punishment, her desk was right outside the principals office… had to walk right past her if I got in trouble.) Then she’d come home afterwards and spend time with us.  So naturally that’s what I grew up basing life on.  So when I started my own family, that’s how I wanted to run my family.  Things just didn’t work out that way.

Ryan and I have talked about it, especially after he saw the “change” in me when I took the 5 day vacation and stayed at home.  If I had my way, I’d stay at home and work part time (because frankly, my brain is not wired to stay at home permanently).  I’d work my old hours and be home when my kid was, so not only could I take care of her but so I could take care of my house and cook (better).  That’s what I enjoy doing, frankly I could give a crap less about a career that I’ll spend time at for the rest of my life.  We’ve decided if Ryan can get a job making a substantial amount more than me, and we are sure that it’s secure that I would drop down to part time, or find a part time job. (The chances of that happening in THIS economy is slim to none, so I’m doing what I do best and trying to excel and hopefully someday move up in my current job.)

That’s what throws people off.  Especially people that don’t know that I was already “At Home”.  I think my whole “stance on feminist ideals” doesn’t help either.  What people fail to realize though, feminism isn’t about forcing women into a career or whatever.  It’s about giving women a CHOICE.  A choice to stay at home, a choice to have a career (and be paid fair for her work).  My choice (or want, like I stated earlier) is to stay at home and take care of my house and family.  That’s what’s right for my family, and if I can, I will.  (But again, Economy, so hello career haha).  I guess I’ll just deal with the raised eyebrows, I like catching people off guard anyway.  It makes life that much more fun.