Category Archives: Work

hey la, hey la, my paycheck's back

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The interview for the part-time job at the Giant Software Company went well. It seems like an ok job – nothing exciting, but you know, I could do it and not feel like throwing myself out of a window. Coming up with some type of daycare solution would really be the only problem.

But you know, these things can never seem to be isolated incidents. When I got home from the interview, I had an email about another company that wanted to interview me today. This company is one that I interviewed with a year ago, and who I turned down because they wanted me to be a full-time project manager (in the office 40-50 hours a week) and I had just gotten pregnant. Apparently when they found out I was on the job market again, they wanted to get me back.

It was the weirdest thing – I walked in and the guy said, “This isn’t really an interview. We already know we want you, so let’s talk about what you want to do.” Um, ok!

So, I’m going to be doing some technical writing, which is 100% work-from-home. It’s all project-based, meaning that I might be working on an online course one month, and a technical article the next month. Depending on the project, some might require full-time hours and some might be part-time. And there could be downtime between projects where I wouldn’t be making any money, but that’s really fine with me. The point is that I can work and use my brain without even getting out of my pajamas.

I suspect that I’ll need to hire at least a part-time babysitter or nanny for Cate, but that sounds a whole lot less daunting than trying to find a daycare. Heck, there are enough teenage girls in this neighborhood that keeping us covered for the summer shouldn’t be a problem. There are two 12 year-old girls who both seem eager to baby-sit. I wouldn’t normally leave Cate with a 12 year-old, but if Dave and I are both in the house and we just need some quiet time to concentrate? I think it’ll be fine.

Also, I asked about the telecommuting thing, and whether their employees need to be local because “my husband and I are talking about moving in a couple of years.” (Ok, it’s kind of a lie, but nothing about the move is set in stone yet, and I wanted to see how he reacted before I got into all of that.) He said that they have people working remotely all over the world, and certainly if they’ve established a working relationship with me and know that I do good work, they’ll bend over backward to accomodate me wherever I want to go.

So, in short: WOO-HOO!!!!

It’s weird, I was so unsure about whether or not I wanted to be working, and this just totally fell in my lap and I think it’s the most ideal scenario that I could possibly ask for. I have a really good feeling about it, I think it’s going to be great.

And I think it goes without saying, but yes, I got an offer from the Giant Software Company, and I turned them down. C’est la vie!

to work or not to work?

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I have a job interview tomorrow. It’s for a part-time, six month contract at the Giant Software Company, and I’m really not sure how I feel about it.

Pros:
1. I’m qualified for it, and it’s certainly up my alley.
2. They want someone 5 days a week, but it’d only be four to five hours a day, which sounds pretty manageable.
3. The money would be nice.

Cons:
1. As completely un-enlightened as this might sound, I don’t like the idea of leaving Cate. What do you know, apparently I’m a 1950’s housewife. So much for my feminist upbringing. The thing is, I know Cate would be fine, but I would miss her. I realize that’s selfish, but that’s how it is.
2. Most of the time I feel like I’m barely keeping my head above water with all of the day-to-day stuff around here. The house is almost always a mess, I can never seem stay on top of dishes and laundry, I feel like I’m constantly washing bottles, mixing formula, etc. How would I squeeze in a part-time work schedule with all of that? The thought is totally daunting and makes me feel like I want to cry. I know tons of women have babies and work full-time, and hats off to you because I can’t imagine it.
3. Today is the first time I’ve tried calling daycare centers to see about availability. Most of them have insane wait lists – the first one said they have no openings for infants until June 2008. No kidding. And even if I found a daycare center, most of them don’t have a part-time option. It makes sense in a “childcare provider to infant ratio” kind of way, but it means that you end up paying for full-time daycare regardless of whether or not you use it that much. And then it becomes a question of whether or not the money I’d be bringing home would really be worth it in the long run.

And yeah, Dave works from home, so we could theoretically work out some sort of shift schedule. Say, he could work for a few hours before I leave, and finish his work day after I get back. The problem is, Dave and I have very different methods of taking care of Cate. (Example: I pick her up at the first whimper. He thinks there’s nothing wrong with letting her scream for a few minutes to see if she’ll settle herself down. The thing is, she never does settle herself down, so it takes five times longer to calm her down when he waits until she’s in a full-blown tizzy. That drives me nuts.) I know that we’re allowed to have different parenting styles, but since I’m an obsessive first-time mom, I tend to view his way as wrong. So even though it sounds totally horrible to say that I don’t want to leave our child alone with my husband for extended amounts of time, sue me, it’s the truth.

So yeah. Interview tomorrow. Huh. We’ll see.

random wednesday

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I forgot to mention the other weird thing at church on Sunday: the woman sitting behind us made a big fuss over Cate – oh she’s so cute, how old is she, etc. Then she asked if she could hold her. Um, how exactly is one supposed to handle this type of situation? I said, “oh, I’m a little germaphobic, and it’s cold season, so I’d rather you didn’t…” And she seemed fine with that, but I felt so rude saying it. What I meant was: dude, you are a total stranger. Yes, we’re in church, big happy community of Christians, blah-blah-blah, but hell no, you cannot hold my baby. Of course, it turned out that she was one of the people who passed around the offering plate and directed traffic for communion, so I had to make eye contact with her two more times after that. Argh. Awkwardness.

The only other time anything like that has happened was once when I went to this deli place for lunch with my friend Janet. We were standing in line, and the guy in front of us turned around to talk to Cate (who was in the stroller). Then he reached in and grabbed her hand. I resisted the urge to scream, “UNCLEAN!!!” But just barely. My only guess is that these are people who don’t have kids themselves, so maybe they don’t know that this is inappropriate? Or am I a big weirdo for worrying about strangers’ germs?

Of course, it occurs to me that one week from today, Cate and I are going to be on an airplane, and that I just might have to hand her off to a flight attendant if I need to use the bathroom. Because seriously, what else am I supposed to do? So I guess it’s a bit hypocritical on my part – I’m ok with strangers holding my baby when it’s for my own personal convenience. But I also figure that flight attendants probably wash their hands a lot, since they handle people’s food and beverages. I know that if I had that job, I’d be a total Purell addict. (I’d also probably have a drug problem, since I usually need either a cocktail or a Xanax to not freak out when I fly.)

Speaking of the airplane, I am really looking forward to visiting my family next week (and getting to meet a couple of bloggers too! How cool is that?). But I am dreading the flight. The idea of having Cate on my lap for six to seven hours in a tiny cramped airplane seat doesn’t sound like that much fun to me. I’m sure it’s better to do it now than when she’s a toddler and needs constant entertainment, but still. I imagine that she and I are both going to be good and cranky by the time we get to Mississippi.

Total topic change: As for that full-time job that I wrote about last week – I did update my resume and send it off to the recruiter, but I haven’t heard anything about it since then. The more I think about it, though, the more I think that I really don’t want it. I know there are a lot of working moms who love what they do, and I think that’s fantastic. I’m just not sure that I’m one of them. I could see myself getting miserable really quickly if I was doing the whole 40-50 hour work week again. But you know, I’ve never been all that passionate about my career to begin with. It was just something I did to make money, so I could afford the lifestyle I wanted. And sure, I liked it ok, but I’m totally fine without it too.

So I’m now kicking around the idea of some possible freelance writing and work-from-home options, in addition to sticking a few ads on this site. If that works out, I imagine I’ll still need to find some sort of part-time baby-sitter or daycare for Cate, because I don’t know how Dave and I could possibly both be working and taking care of her all the time. But I think that maybe some type of Mother’s Morning Out program, just a couple of days a week, might be sufficient.

Total topic change, part two: Does anyone else watch “The Riches”? Did the dentist in this week’s episode make you really depressed? Because I almost cried for him. I know I’m still a big hormonal mess, but god, that was sad.

money money

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A couple of weird things have come up in the last 24 hours: first, I got an email asking if I’d accept advertising on this site. It’s not something I’ve ever really considered, because I didn’t think that I had enough readers to warrant any advertisers’ interest. But hey, they asked, and I could really use that $2 a year or whatever piddly amount of web traffic I bring in. I wrote the person back, asking exactly what the content of the advertisements would be, because while I’m totally open to the idea of whoring my blog for my own personal financial gain, I don’t want to end up with anything obnoxious and/or offensive here.

Second, I got an email from a recruiter who happened to have an old copy of my resume. The job he’s looking to fill is right up my alley, and the salary and benefits are awesome. It sounds way better than what I was doing before. The only catch is that it’s full-time, which wasn’t what I had in mind. I was really planning on going for something either part-time, or that at least had the option to work from home part-time. So now I’m kicking this idea around, trying to figure out if this is what I want. I don’t like the idea of Cate being in daycare full-time, mostly because I think I’d miss her like crazy. But at the same time, this job opportunity could put us in a place financially where we could move to a new house sooner than our current plan, and while the commute would suck for now, the job is located in the area that I want to move to. So it could turn out to be really good. Or I could do it for a month, hate it, want to quit and feel like an idiot for going through the whole process of interviewing with this company and finding a suitable daycare facility. Argh, dilemmas…

yet another change of plans

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The hospital where Catie was born has a support group for new moms (the 0-3 month crowd). I’ve been meaning to go for, oh, the past 7 weeks or so. But every week, I’d end up sleeping through it, which is the kind of thing that happens a lot when your schedule is dictated by a newborn.

I finally managed to get there this week, and honestly, I totally hated it. Have you ever been in a situation where there’s a group leader who goes around the room and everyone has to introduce themselves? And then you have to say some interesting tidbit about yourself too? Those scenarios remind me of school, and they give me anxiety attacks. So I guess I’m just not a big group type, and that’s fine.

I realize, of course, that there’s a difference between a support group, and, say, a mommy playgroup or something. So it’s entirely possible that I might enjoy a different setting. But there’s this other strange thing that I learned about myself yesterday: I generally feel like I’m doing ok at this mommy gig, but if you put me in a room full of other moms, I feel completely incompetent. It isn’t just the breastfeeding thing, although, yes, I was self-conscious about mixing up a bottle in that room when a lot of other women were nursing their babies. I have no idea why I feel this way, but as soon as I walked in the room, I had to fight the urge to either cry or run out of there. I know that it’s all in my head, and it’s not at all a reflection on the people there. All the other moms seemed lovely and nice, this is just my own little neurosis.

After I got home, I started thinking that since I’m obviously not the mommy group type, I have to come up with something else to get myself out of the house so I don’t go crazy or turn into some kind of hermit. Before Cate was born, I had this romantic notion in my head of being a stay-at-home mom, and how I’d meet and become friends with other moms, and life would be one big happy playdate after another. Clearly, that is not going to be the case. And that’s alright, this is just reality setting in.

So I’m thinking about going back to work. Probably just part-time, and I’m not in any big rush – I’m not even planning to update my resume until Cate is consistently sleeping through the night. But I think it’d be good for all of us: since Dave works from home, it’ll keep us from getting on each other’s nerves (trust me, 24/7 is a bit much for even the healthiest marriage), and I think part-time daycare will be good for Cate too.

In light of that little epiphany, I decided to make the most of my remaining time of unemployment. So next month, Cate and I are going to my hometown to see my folks. I found a great rate on airfare, and I’m calling it my parents’ combination Mother’s and Father’s Day gift. They’re thrilled to get a week of grandbaby time – I mean, I’m sure they’re happy to see me too, but mostly it’s all about her.

So hey, if any of you happen to be in the vicinity of Jackson, Missisippi, from April 18th to 24th, let me know and we’ll have cocktails. Bonus points if we can include fried okra. (God, I miss the South sometimes.)

blogging for A.D.D.

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I’ve been so incredibly lazy about blogging lately, mainly because it’s getting increasingly difficult to sit still and string any kind of coherent thought process together. My attention span is virtually non-existent these days. Dave and I have tried to watch a couple of movies together in the past week or so, and I find myself getting fidgety and bored long before the two-hour mark rolls around.

(Which, seriously? The Da Vinci Code? Was ok, but waaaaay longer than necessary. Of course, I think I’m the last person in the English-speaking world who hasn’t read the book yet, which is probably the only reason I found the movie somewhat interesting to begin with.)

So, here are some random odds and ends, which should probably each be their own blog posts, but I can’t make my brain develop them any further than this:

* My last day at work was Wednesday. It was weird, because I didn’t hate my job at all, so I wasn’t excited about leaving like I thought I might be. Most of the times that I’ve quit jobs in the past, I’ve left feeling very “woo-hoo, I’m outta here!” And I was always moving on to something better. It’s strange this time, to leave a job and not know when I’ll be looking for another one. I know that Dave and I decided a long time ago to just roll with it and see how things go after the baby arrives, but I’m usually a bit of a planner, so this is all feeling quite foreign to me.

* The problems that I’ve been having with my stomach haven’t let up yet. (It’s been over two weeks now, lucky me.) I saw my primary care doctor on Thursday, and hopefully I’ll hear the results from those tests tomorrow. She said her initial guess is that I either have some kind of bacterial infection or a parasite. Charming.

* Yesterday a group of women that I’m friends with got together and had a little Holiday Baking Day. Basically, everyone made two or three things, and then we all traded off, so everyone got lots of Christmas goodies to take home. Most of the things that I got (peppermint bark?) are the types of treats that I would never think of trying to make myself, so it was pretty cool. It was also nice to get to a chance to hang out with the girls, since there were a few people there who I only see every once in a great while.

Oh, and if any of you want my great-grandmother’s recipe for praline cookies, let me know, because they’re really easy and quite yummy. (Aside to Alphagal: according to my mom, it was Ma Mere’s recipe. I’m guessing Nahnee must’ve made them too, though, because I had the weirdest childhood nostalgia flashback moment when I first tried them.)

* This same group of women has also organized a book club, which I’m trying to participate in. Our first meeting is next Saturday, so between now and then, I’m supposed to read “The Alchemist.” Which is another book that it seems like everyone in the world has read except me. I found Dave’s copy, but with my non-existent attention span, so far I’ve only made it as far as the preface. Luckily it’s a short book, so hopefully I can hammer through the next 175 pages sometime in the next week. I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep up with the book club after the baby arrives, but I like the idea of it, so I’m going to give it a try. 

30 weeks

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But first, a gripe: apparently it snowed a whole lot yesterday. Which is no big deal out where we live, since The Boonies seem to operate on their own weather system, so we get snow pretty often. (Something about the geography there, who knows.) Today, I got up, got dressed, braved the icy roads to come to work on my next-to-last day, and… alas, The Giant Software Company is closed.

I mean, technically I was able to get into the building, and I’ll be working today because I have stuff to do, but the company itself is closed. And I had an email from my boss telling me that I should stay home because the roads are so icy. It just didn’t occur to me to check my work email before leaving the house this morning. Argh. Oh well, whatever, I’m here.

So, yesterday was my 30-week OB check-up. I have this weird neurotic habit left over from when I was overweight: I always do a little calculation in my head of what I think my weight will be when I get on the doctor’s scale, because I hate being shocked by the number. I knew what my weight was at my last appointment (two weeks ago), and I know that gaining a pound per week is about average during the 2nd and 3rd trimesters, so I mentally added two pounds to that number, and that’s what I expected to see on the scale. I thought it was possible, given how weird my stomach has been lately, that maybe I hadn’t gained anything. However, I ate a ton over Thanksgiving, so it could’ve also been a little more than two pounds. But I had a pre-defined range in my head, so I felt prepared.

The nurse called me back, and we chatted for a minute – boy, isn’t this weather crazy, that kind of thing. Then I got on the scale. My jaw dropped. The nurse looked at the number, looked at my chart, then looked back at the number. She very slowly and carefully said, “Um, you do know that you’re supposed to be gaining weight, right?”

Not only did I not gain anything since my last appointment, I actually lost six pounds in the past two weeks. So apparently all this stuff with my stomach falls under the category of “decidedly not normal,” in spite of what I was starting to think. My OB told me to make an appointment with my primary care doctor to make sure that I didn’t pick up some kind of bacterial something-or-other. So I’ll be seeing her later this week. Fun. If I got dysentery or some obscure intestinal ailment from our stupid well water, I’m going to be really pissed.

The good news is that the baby appears to be fine – she’s still kicking up a storm, and her heartbeat is perfect. So it’s only my health that’s suffering, not hers. And I suppose that if my ultimate goal is to keep my pregnancy weight gain to a minimum, I’m doing a pretty kick-ass job – only 8 pounds at 30 weeks! But I’m also realistic, and I fully expect to regain that six pounds (plus some) once I’m not so dehydrated anymore.

Speaking of fluids, I think I need to go find some hot cocoa or cider or something, because it’s damn cold here.