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I must confess, it has barely been two weeks since I quit working (mostly), but the last two weeks have been filled with epiphanies! I’m still a rookie SAHM, but hoping to be promoted to “executive” soon!

Prior to two weeks ago, I was addicted to work–more specifically I was addicted to the result of work: MONEY. If I was not at work, that meant I wasn’t making money. Not making money was terrifying for me. I never let myself truly relax; the line between relaxing and complacency became so blurred. I felt guilty if I wasn’t being productive and, for me, productivity was measured in dolla’ dolla’ bills (I’m a Taurus, I’m programmed that way).

Not working always seemed nutty to me! In 1995, I combined the (limited) powers of a scanner, typewriter and HP Desk Jet to change my birth year on my birth certificate so I could get my first job. A year later I was working two jobs and loved getting two paychecks even though school became less of a priority (I didn’t get paid to go to school after all). Since then I have tried to juggle two, full-time jobs, whenever possible. When I had my first daughter, I went to work on Wednesday, went straight from work to the hospital to be induced, gave birth Thursday, and was back at work on Monday (to be young again). With my second child, I worked past my due date until finally calling in and telling my boss “If you don’t need me to come in, I should probably take the day off because I’m contractions.” I was back at work ten days later. I allowed myself a full four weeks off with my youngest. I couldn’t wait to get back to work to replenish my bank account and have some “adult time.” I have always made work a priority.

My job wasn’t an important one. I wasn’t saving lives or changing the world. I did not have to work much, was paid well and thought I had a great work-life balance. What more could a person ask for? I can tell you what I really felt I was missing: obviously, precious time with my loved ones. I think I was subscribing to the “absence makes the heart grow fonder” approach with my family. In retrospect, that sounds crazy! Another thing I was missing was a sense of purpose or accomplishment (this may be unique to the nature of my work). It chipped away at my psyche, and eventually, I began losing sight of who I was, what I wanted and what was important. Will staying home be the answer? I will let you know!

I knew staying home would be harder than going to work. Maybe that is why I continued to cling on to my job for so long. I eventually realized that my reasons for continuing to work (when it was no longer a financial necessity) were selfish. Everyone in my family had so much to benefit from me being present and giving them the kind of support they really needed. I had no idea how good it would be. Here are some of the highlights, so far, about SAHM life:

1. I don’t feel guilty about not working. My life feels so balanced now. Looking back, I feel guilty for not making this decision sooner. I realize now that work was getting the best version of me and my family was getting the left-overs. When I was done with work I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I had been talking to people all day. My job left me drained. I put on a good show at work and had nothing left for the people who truly mattered. I was too drained to play with my kids, have a conversation with my husband, or help my teenager with homework.
2. It looks good on me. Not only do I have more time to focus on my family, but I have more time for self-care. As a busy mom, I have not been able to justify, or find time for, even the slightest indulgence. I don’t even get to use the toilet without an audience. Showering usually comes with a sacrifice relative to the duration of the shower. Within three minutes my kids can scatter an entire package of baby wipes. Five and you can add them emptying out their dressers. Eight means they have probably helped themselves to a snack. Anything beyond that, expect some sort of disaster in the bathroom (the possibilities are limitless there).
3. Our marriage has gotten stronger. We are no longer living parallel lives under the same roof. Our lives are so much more intertwined than they used to be. We communicate better (now that I’m available) and as I result I don’t expect him to read my mind and get resentful and frustrated if he can’t. More than ever, I want to set him up for success in every way. I feel like we are more of a team now working together for a common goal instead of chasing individual victories.
4. It is much less stressful. This may seem obvious, but it is not in the way that I expected. I thought “I will have so much to do. I’m still going to be so busy even though I won’t be ‘working.'” This is true, yes. It is different now. I don’t sit in my living room, getting anxious as I look around at all the unfinished projects and the growing to-do list, knowing that I never have the time or energy to tackle a new project, or finish one I had already started (that day when I had too much Pinterest and coffee). Now there is hope. My to-do list is still there, but it isn’t this unachievable, scary thing looming over me. It is filled with promise and that anticipated feeling of accomplishment that I have been yearning for.
5. My house is still a mess. With two young children I never had any delusions about this, but like my to-do list, my messy house is not as daunting as it was when I would come home from work. Now I hope to get to it tomorrow instead of thinking “how much worse is this going to be by the time I get home tomorrow.” Tasks are more manageable than they were two weeks ago.
6. I need to keep a calendar. Not just because I forget what day of the week it is. Before, my schedule was set five days a week. I got used to not being able to make plans because I had to work. Now, when someone sends me an invitation, I can finally say “yes,” but I’m losing track of how often, to who and when! It really is a great problem to have!
7. I like my kids! Of course, I love them more than anything, but I was used to them in small doses and had no idea what to expect from total immersion. As it turns out, they behave a little better when they aren’t fighting over my attention with limited time.

I feel like I’m finally living, and before I was just working. My days off were filled with trying to recuperate from work and prepare for work. I never felt fully engaged with what was happening at home, because home seemed like a temporary place where I existed when I wasn’t working. My job, unfortunately, became a priority over what is actually important. At times, work felt safe and predictable, and it even began to feel permanent.

I know so many amazing working moms that seem to have mastered it. They can work, be available for their kids, run marathons, have a social life, volunteer, bake, all while looking beautiful and not letting their house look like a crime scene. I don’t know how they do it (without hard drugs)! For me, I couldn’t juggle it all. I take so many herbal supplements and still don’t have the energy to accomplish 10% of what some of my (superhero-mom) friends do! You know who you are and you amaze me!

Committing to be a SAHM is not an easy decision, and is not possible for every situation and phase of life. I’m not confident that I will be able to resist those dolla’dolla’ bills for long. For now, I am enjoying this time with my family and keeping my options open. I know staying at home is not all “kittens and rainbows,” (clearly, I’m still in the honeymoon phase)  but I’m enjoying this season more than I ever expected to. I  don’t know what is ahead, but I have a new perspective on what is important and meaningful and I hope to remember this.

 

 

 

I haven’t been staying up-to-date on my blogging lately. The truth is: every moment of “screen time” I have had, has been spent on Web MD. I never have “normal” health problems. They’re usually a bit of a mystery to everyone, including doctors. Sounds exotic, right?

Don’t worry! I’m probably not dying (Probably), but the internet sure has me thinking I am! Doctors should have an entirely new form for you to fill out. This form will ask you what kind of research you have done on your condition, and what you determined from it (then, these should be collected and made into a hilarious book). It will save you from having to tell the doctor “I saw on the internet…” (and spare them the eye-roll after hearing that for the millionth time).

Even though we are in a time of instant information and instant gratification, blood work still takes a week! Waiting for test results leaves me so much time to google my symptoms. Don’t do that. Ever. It’s like when I’m driving and using navigation, I occasionally deviate from its commands to see if “my way” gets me there quicker (not that I’m competitive). Unfortunately, there is no shortcut to getting a diagnosis. Not even Google.

My grandma was always sick. She too liked to play doctor. This was pre-internet, and instead of Web MD, she had a giant book (with great pictures) called a PDR, or Physician’s Desk Reference (sounds legit, right?). It was filled with descriptions of every disease, rash, medicine…hours of entertainment for curious children and sickly grandmas alike.

When my oldest daughter was born, the internet was still relatively new, slow and very limited. Google wasn’t even a thing yet! My pregnancy resources were: the book What to Expect When You’re Expecting, baby magazines, wise people like my grandma (and her PDR) and my actual doctor. I was uninformed and naive. It was wonderful! The only thing I worried about was that she might not be a girl like they predicted, and I’d have to take back all the dresses that were waiting for her (and the humiliation that goes along with having a boy who’s boy parts were mistaken for girl parts for five months). If I had questions or concerns, I picked up the phone and called my doctor (weird)!

I’ve had two more daughters since the Google revolution. This time I ditched the book and magazines and turned to the internet. It added so much stress and left me with more questions than answers, but I couldn’t help myself! I managed to have two more healthy daughters despite the internet suggesting that none of us would survive. You would think I have learned my lesson by now. Nope. Still Googling. Still worrying. Isn’t it odd that more information just leaves us with more questions?! It is a strange and vicious cycle, especially when you’re concerned about your health.

Luckily for every disease the internet can help you “self-diagnose,” it also has about 10 cures to guide you to (so I’ve got that going for me). If I go silent for an extended period of time, you can probably find me in the forest foraging roots, plants and fungi to create a life-saving tincture that I read about on the internet.

 

No, this isn’t me bragging (this time). Everyone is AWESOME AT SOMETHING! That one thing (or more) that you seem to be an expert at, your gift, can also be a burden.

If you happen to be a good cook, you will be expected to cook all the time and do it to perfection. If you’re always well dressed and appear “polished,” then you may set a personal standard of looking dapper or glamorous (Jackie O never looked like a schlep). Someone might not even recognize you in grubby clothes. Standards come with expectations. See where I’m going with this?

I have a funny friend, like, an actual stand-up comedian. One day he walked in, sat down and did something he had never done before; he started telling us a sad story about something he had just witnessed (I will spare you the details).  Expecting it to be a joke, like usual, we engaged! We leaned in eagerly, grinning ear-to-ear and nodding, waiting for the punch line. He delivered the final, unpleasant, details. “Then what?” we asked in anticipation. He was being serious, and we were all confused! He didn’t understand our lack of sympathy, or why he wasn’t being taken seriously, and we were still trying to figure out if he was serious or not. Awkward!

I guess we all get type-cast into real life roles. Just like Anthony Michael Hall couldn’t do an action movie in the 80’s, my friend couldn’t deliver a sad story without confusing his audience.

There are a few approaches you can take with your predictable identity (I think I have explored them all subconsciously): you could work to change it (that sounds too hard and it’s the option I have the least experience with). You can embrace your role, be a star, and recognize the pressure that comes with performing at a high-level. Or be an underachiever. Set that bar so fricking low that you can step over it, blindfolded. I don’t endorse this, but I can appreciate it.

A little-known fact about me: when I was in second grade, they considered having me skip the third and fourth grade (but I lived in Canada so they called it “grade 3” and “grade 4”). To those of you who know me personally, this may come as a shock to you. I have several theories about why the school administration thought this was a good idea: 1) The principal had a huge crush on my hot mom 2) Canada 3) I was the only non-Catholic kid at a Catholic school and they couldn’t figure out what to do with me 4) I was working at a “grade 5 level” because my brain has been stuck there my whole life. I’m a perma fifth grader!  After fifth grade, it was all down hill. Ultimately, I stayed with the kids my age because they were concerned about my social development (little did they know).

Fast forward to junior high and high school. Every single grade, on every single report card, was accompanied by the comment “does not work up to potential.” As a parent, I can see how this must have been the most frustrating thing to read over, and over (sorry Mom and Dad). 13-year-old me thought this sounded great! Not only did they think I was smart, they believed I had potential that I could tap into if I ever wanted to “apply myself.” I’m still not working at my potential BTW.

My immature brain could not acknowledge that I was simply sabotaging myself. Why would I deliberately underachieve (it’s not like I enjoyed being grounded all the time)? It did not make any sense. Now it does. Turns out that maybe mini-Denise was onto something, and predicted the expectations that would accompany good grades. I’d have to do it all the time! Being mediocre was so much easier (until I had to make up for years of slacking so I could get into college).

Despite my less than stellar grades until college, I matured, and I thrived. I became the expert of many things among my peers. I’m still the “go-to” for so many people, for so many things. People trust me. While it’s a compliment, and I love that they hold me in such high regard, it comes with a great deal of (self-induced) pressure. Each product or performance has to be better than the last. That is just how I roll. People know it and they count on me to “go big or go home.” This makes my new endeavor, as a blogger, particularly daunting.

I’m an all or nothing kind of gal; like, if I can’t do it well, I don’t do it at all. Being good at things seems to come with an irrational fear of failure (seems backward). If I don’t think I can do something well, I put it off, make excuses, and hesitate to admit that my procrastination is driven by fear.

Since starting this blog, I have been overwhelmed with the kindness and encouragement of my friends, and even strangers. They keep telling me I’m a good writer. It is such an overwhelming compliment since I’m making myself vulnerable, and exploring something new. While I’m not sure if they’re just being kind, or if I’m actually doing a good job (I’m not digging for compliments here), but if I am, that scares the crap out of me. I don’t know which is more frightening: failure, or the pressure of success.

I’m here to encourage you to strive for awesomeness! If you need a cheerleader, I’ll be all like “Ra-ra-shish-kebab” and high-fives. Sometimes you just want to know that there are people that can relate to you, and to your struggles. Even when you are just struggling with the curse of being awesome. This is normal…right?

 

Only a few days into this journey, and it happened…my first hater! I did not see this coming at all! My intention (for now) is to keep things light, and I had no idea that anything I said could have offended anyone.

I was riding high on an endorphin rush from a super intense workout at Cyclebar, when I looked at my phone in shock! I saw a misguided, and baseless, rant from a grumpy-old-man directed at me! My first thought “I’m doing something right! I got my first hater!”

I spent the half hour drive home from Cyclebar crafting responses to his negative remarks! Some were witty, some I took the “kill ’em with kindness” (aka: the high road) approach, and others I just sank to his level (but better). They were pretty clever, and calculated, which made me think that messing with a fledgling wordsmith (like myself) is a huge mistake.

I refrained from jumping in the ring with this guy. I was flattered that a dear friend of mine had already shut him down. While I was oddly delighted about the idea of having a “hater,” (I had no idea that I had the power to provoke anyone) he deleted his comments by the time I got home (’cause he was a coward).

This was an indication of the power of words. Also, a realization that having a voice could make me the target of judgement, criticism and hate. I was reminded how people are capable of behaving when they are “pseudo-anonymous,” and hiding behind their screens. Would he have said those things to my face? I doubt it.

I’m not a fragile person (at least not right now), so it was easy for me to dismiss. Please remember to be kind to everyone because you don’t know their story, their struggles or if they are going through a difficult season in their life. Words are impactful so please use them responsibly (exceptions are made for when you’re driving–the people in the other cars can’t hear you; don’t worry).

If you are the target of a hater, I have a whole array of responses in my pocket that I didn’t get to use, that I would be happy to put to use. Good words should not go to waste.