I went for an interview today.
Yep. An interview. I'm a stay-at-home mom who is three months pregnant and had no job searching aspirations and I had an interview today.
So here's how it happened. The plan was this. Move to the reno project in rural New Brunswick that would save us loads and give us a nice town to raise our children in, take a year and fix it up, Daddy becomes an electrical apprentice in the fall, with the teeny tiny mortgage Momma can afford to stay home with the children because children need to not feel dropped off or second to career, do art for art's sake, to be inspired, and teach my children a love of art.
I don't know why I plan, in our experience plans really seem kind of silly. Maybe there are those of you out there who make plans and follow them, but for us other unplanned things generally happen, or new ideas, opportunities if you will, just seem better than the original plan.
Plan change number one, baby number four. We were happy with three, we've (I say we loosely) been on the vasectomy waiting list, happy with the size of our brood, looking forward to sleep again in the near future, looking forward to getting to work polishing the potential in this house. But okay, baby number four. We can deal, babies are no disaster. A new little life to love. Alright, a few more tired years, a lot more highchair cleanups, and the loss of our spare bedroom, but we can deal with that. Maybe I'll not be so much help with the renos in the near future.
Then, my highschool art teacher sends me a note about a position that just opened up at the local gallery. THE position at the local gallery, exhibition co-ordinator. This would be a dream job. A dream job in a very small town with very few art positions. So lovely to combine my love of art, my organizational and planning skills, my design and publicity training. I hum and haw on it. I really wasn't looking for a job. But this job, oh this job would be a great job. Then a member of the board thinks of me as a perfect fit for the position, tells me I just have to apply. So I do. We could use the money while Troy's working on the house this winter anyway, that way we wouldn't be eating away at our nest egg, and it would be a lovely job. It's just down the road, light on hours, heavy on enjoyable, stimulating work. I would have maternity leave, and a position to return to that could be a long-term career that would serve me well after these short years of having preschoolers. But oh, the years of having preschoolers home are SO short, I should really stay home and enjoy my babies, be here for them.
Why are career and motherhood so conflicting?!
I hate this argument. I have it with myself over and over and over. I've spent the last seven years having this same discussion in my head, to my husband, to my friends, my sisters, my mother, my mother in-law. Every one has a different point of view on it. And I can see every point of view.
A mother with a career demonstrates ambitiousness, equality and purpose to her children. She is not 'just' a mom, she clearly has a brain, interests, talents. A stay-at-home mom is there for her children, she's not pulled between work and her children, she has time to be organized at home, time for well-thought healthy meals, time to encourage creative play and the mess that goes with it, energy to take advantage of a sunny moment and go for a walk in the snow, time to get through all the mundane moments in which the special moments happen.
I know, we should be able to find that miraculous 'balance'. I sure can't seem to. Even if it's just one freelance project I have on the go, I'm thinking about work, putting off home things (you know, those necessities like cleaning off the kitchen counters and providing clean socks and undies), sleeping less, generally crankier with my children as a result, and considerably more frazzled and disorganized, trying to steal work time while my children squabble in front of the television. Actually, in my experience working from home part-time on a project by project basis is actually worse than working full-time. At least working full time I hire someone to be a caregiver to my children, and often someone else to clean my bathroom. When I work part-time it's just squishing more into the same amount of time, and doing everything half as well.
So, back to the interview.
It went well I think. I had knowledgeable answers at the ready, relative experiences to discuss, insight into the purpose and logisitics of the role. I'm qualified, perhaps more so than the other applicants will be? I was eloquent, intelligent, and personable. In this small town I know the majority of the board members and have had good experiences with them, I've worked for them, been taught by them, babysat or coached their children.
But then I drove home.
And I got the post-interview jitters.
Supposing I blow the competition out of the water, why would they hire me when I'll be going on a maternity leave in six short months? Even if I wasn't pregnant, why would they hire me over some single applicant who has nothing but ambition, nothing but time for her job? Why would they hire me over this girl, this fictional single girl applicant I've created in my head, who has no kids so won't wish to stay home with them when they're sick or take time to go to their concerts or field days?
Oh, feminists who fought for me to be here, what is a mom supposed to do?
Monday, January 25, 2010
Saturday, January 16, 2010
Thane's To Do List
How cute is this? Thane made a to do list today, to cover all the things he wanted to do for the day. The fact that he is so familiar with what a to do list is in the first place just makes me laugh. As much as I hate to admit it sometimes, he is so his mother's child. His artsy self decided to go the icon route for some reason, so he decoded it for me this afternoon.His to do's go as follows:
- Play with modeling clay.
- Watch Grampie and Dad. (They were working on renos.)
- Play with toys.
- Snuggle with mom. (Can you see why this list melted my heart?)
- Play with Seth.
- Read to Claire.
- Look at chore list.
- Do a chore. (Thane's new ticket to moola.)
- Look for toys to play with.
Saturday, November 28, 2009
We've Arrived.
We're here. We're in. We did it. We're actually living in our new home.
Over the last few months we've purged, packed and moved, squeezed in at my parents while major renovations took place at what was then referred to as the new house, demo-ed, roofed, insulated, breathed in too much plaster, drywalled, compared prices, deliberated swatches, painted, cleaned, floored, washed, swept, swept, swept, familiarized and remembered, and now... we breathe. I'm feeling thankful tonight.
I am thankful for our new space, even though we still have far to go with it. It is beautiful and peaceful. It is now also cozy, comfortable and feels like home. We still have a lot of renovating to do, but I like renovating anyway. It's rewarding work. You know what else I am thankful for? My hard-working husband, who I'm sure does not share my views on renovating but does it anyway, sans complaint.
I am also thankful for my great kids, who are funny and loving and breezed right through this transition. They managed through the tight reins at my parents home and now have settled right in at our house and in this new town. Kudos especially to my oldest Thane, who is not my outgoing child by any stretch, but who plopped himself right into his new class and made new friends. That's hard even for adults to do.
I am thankful for our loving families. One who despite their sadness at our leaving their city, loves us so much that they rolled up their sleeves, went to work, packed and lifted and babysat, and helped us on our way. And for the other, who welcomed us into their home and back to my town. We've been through sharing their space, my grandfather's death, a divorce in the family, our renovations.. all in a few short months. My Dad's sage advice on everything house has never been more welcome.
I am thankful for libraries, for that beautiful quiet space that welcomes our little people and gives us story hour. Some things seem the same, new house or old house.
For kind teachers, who help my boys feel at ease. For small town neighbours who are genuinely glad to see you move back.
For wood cut to keep us warm, the fresh fall air to pile it in, and for the geese that congregated behind our new house getting ready for their big trip. For not hearing their honking in the last few days and knowing it's good our winter tires are on, for living in a place where geese tell you winter is just around the corner.
For Santa Claus parades and Christmas lights in this dark month, and for boxes almost unpacked, which means I'll let myself decorate for Christmas soon.
I'm very cozy and content tonight. This was a good idea.
Over the last few months we've purged, packed and moved, squeezed in at my parents while major renovations took place at what was then referred to as the new house, demo-ed, roofed, insulated, breathed in too much plaster, drywalled, compared prices, deliberated swatches, painted, cleaned, floored, washed, swept, swept, swept, familiarized and remembered, and now... we breathe. I'm feeling thankful tonight.
I am thankful for our new space, even though we still have far to go with it. It is beautiful and peaceful. It is now also cozy, comfortable and feels like home. We still have a lot of renovating to do, but I like renovating anyway. It's rewarding work. You know what else I am thankful for? My hard-working husband, who I'm sure does not share my views on renovating but does it anyway, sans complaint.
I am also thankful for my great kids, who are funny and loving and breezed right through this transition. They managed through the tight reins at my parents home and now have settled right in at our house and in this new town. Kudos especially to my oldest Thane, who is not my outgoing child by any stretch, but who plopped himself right into his new class and made new friends. That's hard even for adults to do.
I am thankful for our loving families. One who despite their sadness at our leaving their city, loves us so much that they rolled up their sleeves, went to work, packed and lifted and babysat, and helped us on our way. And for the other, who welcomed us into their home and back to my town. We've been through sharing their space, my grandfather's death, a divorce in the family, our renovations.. all in a few short months. My Dad's sage advice on everything house has never been more welcome.
I am thankful for libraries, for that beautiful quiet space that welcomes our little people and gives us story hour. Some things seem the same, new house or old house.
For kind teachers, who help my boys feel at ease. For small town neighbours who are genuinely glad to see you move back.
For wood cut to keep us warm, the fresh fall air to pile it in, and for the geese that congregated behind our new house getting ready for their big trip. For not hearing their honking in the last few days and knowing it's good our winter tires are on, for living in a place where geese tell you winter is just around the corner.
For Santa Claus parades and Christmas lights in this dark month, and for boxes almost unpacked, which means I'll let myself decorate for Christmas soon.
I'm very cozy and content tonight. This was a good idea.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Facebook status'
Since the advent of facebook, do you ever think in terms of facebook status'? I do, particularily when driving. "Victoria is... hungry", "Victoria is... ready to go for the day", "Victoria is... cleaning, again.". Succinct little phrases, summing up one's existence and attitude at the moment. The other day, had I been near a computer, it would have been "Victoria is older and wiser today." I feel older, in a more steady, reasonable way, maybe a little less rash, not just doing because I want or I feel so.
Today though, "Victoria is.. sad." We're moving.
I should be excited. My facebook status brain has tried out, "We bought a pretty house in the country!" and "Victoria is moving home!". But I'm not there yet.
We got the deal of the century on a pretty home in the country near my parents in NB, where I grew up. It has eight acres where I can picture my kids exploring, surrounded by pretty hardwoods with their excellent climbing branches, a view of the Saint John river. I remember driving home from university for the first time, for Thanksgiving weekend my first year away. I suddenly noticed the river as if I had just seen it for the first time and realized all of a sudden how much I had missed it, ever-changing but ever-constant, something so meditative about it. It has a holistic feel, something zen that makes you breathe in deep and appreciate nature. Part of the house is probably 150 years old, an old farmhouse with character, the type of house I always imagined buying and fixing up. These are the list of pros we've compiled.
There's also of course, that we'll be close to my parents. And my extended family, my sister and her family, my aunts, my cousins, my grandparents. But that's not the reason in itself that we're moving. One of my sisters is here actually, I'll miss being near her. Very much. I've gotten used to the 6 hour drive home. And so have my kids. I see my parents often, probably every couple months or so. They come here often, we go up. I used to cry at the end of each visit as they drove off. But that's easier now. I know now it won't seem like long until we'll see each other again.
We're moving because it's a smart decision. With what we'll profit on this house, and with our new mortgage being a fraction of this one, it makes sense. Now we can fathom paying off our student loans simultaneously with our mortgage. Not having to include overtime for Troy in the budget will be a welcome change. Visions of sugar-plums dancing in our heads? Yep, our sugar-plums are family vacations becoming a possibility, savings accounts that don't get raided, and hopefully a little extra for renovating.
I hope it works.
Because in the meantime, we're leaving what we know. Moving home is not so hard for me, but nervewracking all at the same time. It's been 10 years, although it's still my family and my hometown. A very small hometown that I think will take some getting used to again, but mine nonetheless. But for Troy and the kids? Although Troy is fully on-board, the one to make the final call on the moving idea, we're leaving what has always been their home. We're uprooting and moving away from Troy's family. Which makes me miserably sad. Not going out for Sunday afternoon visits? Not having Grampie Hutt call and say he misses the little men, he'll pick them up after work? I can't even go there, it's too sad.
The kids were all born in Halifax. I was planning on Claire going to the same preschool the boys have attended, the one with the teachers who we love. I'm familiar with Thane's school, the other kids in his class, the parents there. I know when and where to register the kids for swimming, gymnastics, skating. I know most of my neighbours now, the familiarity is comforting. I looked in my wallet the other day and had the sudden realization that I am going to need a new NB health card, doctor for that matter, which reminded me we are also going to need a new dentist, chiropractor, eye doctor, babysitters, even our library and movie store cards must change. Our car license plates, our car and house insurance, our telephone, oh my. It's daunting.
I'm sure this will be followed by many posts about how excited I am. But not tonight, tonight I'm sad, nervous, apprehensive. I'm feeling old, the weight of making responsible decisions for your family, one's that aren't so easy, is feeling heavy.
Today though, "Victoria is.. sad." We're moving.
I should be excited. My facebook status brain has tried out, "We bought a pretty house in the country!" and "Victoria is moving home!". But I'm not there yet.
We got the deal of the century on a pretty home in the country near my parents in NB, where I grew up. It has eight acres where I can picture my kids exploring, surrounded by pretty hardwoods with their excellent climbing branches, a view of the Saint John river. I remember driving home from university for the first time, for Thanksgiving weekend my first year away. I suddenly noticed the river as if I had just seen it for the first time and realized all of a sudden how much I had missed it, ever-changing but ever-constant, something so meditative about it. It has a holistic feel, something zen that makes you breathe in deep and appreciate nature. Part of the house is probably 150 years old, an old farmhouse with character, the type of house I always imagined buying and fixing up. These are the list of pros we've compiled.
There's also of course, that we'll be close to my parents. And my extended family, my sister and her family, my aunts, my cousins, my grandparents. But that's not the reason in itself that we're moving. One of my sisters is here actually, I'll miss being near her. Very much. I've gotten used to the 6 hour drive home. And so have my kids. I see my parents often, probably every couple months or so. They come here often, we go up. I used to cry at the end of each visit as they drove off. But that's easier now. I know now it won't seem like long until we'll see each other again.
We're moving because it's a smart decision. With what we'll profit on this house, and with our new mortgage being a fraction of this one, it makes sense. Now we can fathom paying off our student loans simultaneously with our mortgage. Not having to include overtime for Troy in the budget will be a welcome change. Visions of sugar-plums dancing in our heads? Yep, our sugar-plums are family vacations becoming a possibility, savings accounts that don't get raided, and hopefully a little extra for renovating.
I hope it works.
Because in the meantime, we're leaving what we know. Moving home is not so hard for me, but nervewracking all at the same time. It's been 10 years, although it's still my family and my hometown. A very small hometown that I think will take some getting used to again, but mine nonetheless. But for Troy and the kids? Although Troy is fully on-board, the one to make the final call on the moving idea, we're leaving what has always been their home. We're uprooting and moving away from Troy's family. Which makes me miserably sad. Not going out for Sunday afternoon visits? Not having Grampie Hutt call and say he misses the little men, he'll pick them up after work? I can't even go there, it's too sad.
The kids were all born in Halifax. I was planning on Claire going to the same preschool the boys have attended, the one with the teachers who we love. I'm familiar with Thane's school, the other kids in his class, the parents there. I know when and where to register the kids for swimming, gymnastics, skating. I know most of my neighbours now, the familiarity is comforting. I looked in my wallet the other day and had the sudden realization that I am going to need a new NB health card, doctor for that matter, which reminded me we are also going to need a new dentist, chiropractor, eye doctor, babysitters, even our library and movie store cards must change. Our car license plates, our car and house insurance, our telephone, oh my. It's daunting.
I'm sure this will be followed by many posts about how excited I am. But not tonight, tonight I'm sad, nervous, apprehensive. I'm feeling old, the weight of making responsible decisions for your family, one's that aren't so easy, is feeling heavy.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Bedtime
As one of my friends would write; sigh, sigh, sigh.
I type as I wait for the babes to transition from getting in their beds to actually going to sleep. I may renounce them as my muses for the moment. Speed-bumps are more the metaphor I'm looking for right now.
Bedtime tonight started out with me being grumpy and feeling really lazy, so letting bedtime get started later than I like to start, never a sign of a smooth bedtime to come. In the midst of feeling hurried to get to my post-bedtime me time, feeling grumpy that me time tonight is going to consist cleaning and laundry because I didn't fit it in today, Troy heading off for another night shift, and Claire fussing for me to sit down to nurse her before bed, I discovered a spill that had been a full cup of tea, one I meant to sit and enjoy this afternoon and in the midst of demands was forgotten. Already annoyed at the mess in this house, and being the sole one to clean (for Troy's sake I will put 'most of the time' here, he does help when he can), this tipped me over the edge. Not to mention the irritable idea that I shouldn't have left the tea there anyway, mixed with the frightful idea that it could have been spilled when it was hot, and topped with the thought of the annoying ants we've been fighting having a field day in this lake of sugar. At this I didn't think to take a deep breath and decide to have a pleasant bedtime anyway, an idea that I realize now would have been my best plan. Nope, I proceeded to nurse Claire while shouting directions at the boys to get their teeth brushed. Directions that were in no way, shape, or form followed. I'm sure this was a peaceful way for poor Claire to eat and get to sleep. Thane had been grumpy also, since getting a bump in the head this afternoon. With a shovel. I wasn't there for that one, Troy assures me it was a one-man accident and sounds worse than it was. Anyway, being yelled at for claiming 'he didn't notice' the whole cup of tea crashing to the floor and spilling (did I mention this was all over my wicker basket of knitting and new knitting book?) and then not even attempting a clean up or getting someone to help him with the mess, did not help his mood or his desire to be obedient getting ready for bed.
So now I sit, fielding this boy's room exits (thankfully Seth just went to sleep tonight) and waiting until I know he is actually sleeping so I can feel free to go downstairs, start laundry and cleaning, without him wandering all the way down there to me with his bedtime questions and issues. This involves a conversation something like this..
Thane comes into the hall and looks over the railing into the living room where I sit here: "Mom, I need to get something."
Me: "No you don't. Go to bed."
"But I need this part to this toy."
"No you don't, it's time for bed. You can find that part in the morning."
Thane goes back into his room. Maybe five minutes later, he re-emerges.
"Can I go into Seth's room to get it? I think it's in there."
"No! He's trying to go to sleep! You coming out into the hall making noise is not making his bedtime any easier either, go to bed!"
"But I really need it!"
"GO TO SLEEP!"
Thane goes back into his room.
Then he's back.
"I need some water."
"THANE!"
"I'll get it myself." And he scurries to the kitchen.
At this point I herd him back upstairs, full of endless lecturing and admonitions. I tuck him in, again, and come back downstairs.
Then I hear, "Mom?"
Sigh, "Go to sleep Thane".
Ignoring that completely, "I lost ten Pokemon cards at school today to Aidan".
Wondering why the child had his treasured cards at school at all, wondering when and why the six-year olds were allowed to gamble them away at school, wondering about the supervision at school and adding this to the list of why homeschooling would be a good idea, thinking we should have an in-depth talk with him about taking care of his things and standing up for himself (I'm pretty sure he doesn't know the 'rules' to the game), but that now is not the time, I stutter out, "Thane, don't take your cards to school."
Then, annoyed at falling for his distraction techniques again, I get back to my guns. "Close your eyes and your mouth and GO TO SLEEP!"
I think he's asleep now.
Onwards and upwards to scrubbing tea from the floor, couch, books and wicker. Sigh, sigh, sigh.
I type as I wait for the babes to transition from getting in their beds to actually going to sleep. I may renounce them as my muses for the moment. Speed-bumps are more the metaphor I'm looking for right now.
Bedtime tonight started out with me being grumpy and feeling really lazy, so letting bedtime get started later than I like to start, never a sign of a smooth bedtime to come. In the midst of feeling hurried to get to my post-bedtime me time, feeling grumpy that me time tonight is going to consist cleaning and laundry because I didn't fit it in today, Troy heading off for another night shift, and Claire fussing for me to sit down to nurse her before bed, I discovered a spill that had been a full cup of tea, one I meant to sit and enjoy this afternoon and in the midst of demands was forgotten. Already annoyed at the mess in this house, and being the sole one to clean (for Troy's sake I will put 'most of the time' here, he does help when he can), this tipped me over the edge. Not to mention the irritable idea that I shouldn't have left the tea there anyway, mixed with the frightful idea that it could have been spilled when it was hot, and topped with the thought of the annoying ants we've been fighting having a field day in this lake of sugar. At this I didn't think to take a deep breath and decide to have a pleasant bedtime anyway, an idea that I realize now would have been my best plan. Nope, I proceeded to nurse Claire while shouting directions at the boys to get their teeth brushed. Directions that were in no way, shape, or form followed. I'm sure this was a peaceful way for poor Claire to eat and get to sleep. Thane had been grumpy also, since getting a bump in the head this afternoon. With a shovel. I wasn't there for that one, Troy assures me it was a one-man accident and sounds worse than it was. Anyway, being yelled at for claiming 'he didn't notice' the whole cup of tea crashing to the floor and spilling (did I mention this was all over my wicker basket of knitting and new knitting book?) and then not even attempting a clean up or getting someone to help him with the mess, did not help his mood or his desire to be obedient getting ready for bed.
So now I sit, fielding this boy's room exits (thankfully Seth just went to sleep tonight) and waiting until I know he is actually sleeping so I can feel free to go downstairs, start laundry and cleaning, without him wandering all the way down there to me with his bedtime questions and issues. This involves a conversation something like this..
Thane comes into the hall and looks over the railing into the living room where I sit here: "Mom, I need to get something."
Me: "No you don't. Go to bed."
"But I need this part to this toy."
"No you don't, it's time for bed. You can find that part in the morning."
Thane goes back into his room. Maybe five minutes later, he re-emerges.
"Can I go into Seth's room to get it? I think it's in there."
"No! He's trying to go to sleep! You coming out into the hall making noise is not making his bedtime any easier either, go to bed!"
"But I really need it!"
"GO TO SLEEP!"
Thane goes back into his room.
Then he's back.
"I need some water."
"THANE!"
"I'll get it myself." And he scurries to the kitchen.
At this point I herd him back upstairs, full of endless lecturing and admonitions. I tuck him in, again, and come back downstairs.
Then I hear, "Mom?"
Sigh, "Go to sleep Thane".
Ignoring that completely, "I lost ten Pokemon cards at school today to Aidan".
Wondering why the child had his treasured cards at school at all, wondering when and why the six-year olds were allowed to gamble them away at school, wondering about the supervision at school and adding this to the list of why homeschooling would be a good idea, thinking we should have an in-depth talk with him about taking care of his things and standing up for himself (I'm pretty sure he doesn't know the 'rules' to the game), but that now is not the time, I stutter out, "Thane, don't take your cards to school."
Then, annoyed at falling for his distraction techniques again, I get back to my guns. "Close your eyes and your mouth and GO TO SLEEP!"
I think he's asleep now.
Onwards and upwards to scrubbing tea from the floor, couch, books and wicker. Sigh, sigh, sigh.
Sunday, June 7, 2009
Yummy summer.
Seth and I have a weakness. He can bend my rubber arm any day when we drive by MacDonald's, asking for "a fruit and yogurt thing", aka the McD's parfait. So in the spirit of saving money and trying to combat the idea that MacDonald's is ever a good idea, we've made our own homemade fruit and yogurt parfaits!
One part yogurt, add berries of choice (blueberries are great, this day it was strawberries and bananas), a sprinkle of Kashi and voila! Instant fruit and yogurt parfait, perfect for interesting conversations on the deck in the sun with Seth. The most use these Bailey's cups have got in ages.
One part yogurt, add berries of choice (blueberries are great, this day it was strawberries and bananas), a sprinkle of Kashi and voila! Instant fruit and yogurt parfait, perfect for interesting conversations on the deck in the sun with Seth. The most use these Bailey's cups have got in ages.
Friday, June 5, 2009
Making, making, making
I've been making!! As opposed to obscene amounts of daydreaming and planning, this is some actual doing! Check it out:
This little number on cute rolly-poly baby legs out for a crawl are reversible shoes!
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