It hits me when I lay down at night & my hips ache so badly & I wonder why I’m so tired.  I’m busy.

& I feel like I’m losing out on life.

Dramatic much?  But I spend 9 hours a day behind a computer, trying to make sense of my project manager & the boss man’s travel schedule.  I spend 2-3 hours per day in my car, trapped in bumper-to-bumper traffic.  I get home & throw on dinner, try to soak up time with Harrison, but the moment he is in pajamas I am back the the grind of taking out trash, picking up toys, & making the house presentable just in case they schedule a showing.  Just in case.

My one outlet, writing & sharing my thoughts & capturing them on film (albeit roughly), feels bone dry & I can’t help but fear if my lack of inspiration comes from lack of living.  My friend Nish often describes her blog as the spill-over of life & I’ve always felt the same – my blog holds all of the emotions & thought processes that I cannot keep to myself.  But these days, I feel like I’m on autopilot.

We race out the door every morning; my hair is flying & 75% of the time I have forgotten makeup, so I have yet to capture my attempt at growing my style.

The sun is down when I get home, so every night is a game of chase through the living room or vrooming cars around my ankles while I cook.

We did not take a winter long weekend to the mountains this year due to finances.

I see my friends grow & inspire & be viral & I shake my head at the emptiness of my own journal notes.  I’m being left behind.

I have no idea what’s happening with Zooey Dash-a-whatever or the other Kar-dash-a-whatever’s because I don’t have cable.  I have now been demoted to Former Pop Culture Princess.

I order clothes & Christmas presents & hell, even groceries online.

Some mothers ache for more interaction & more rigid schedule, but I long for days of a lazier pace & more sunshine with my tiny guy.

I just don’t know how to find it quite yet.

So.

In October, Doug was laid off when the company he worked for closed with no warning.  There was lots of swearing on our parts for about 48 hours, then we buckled down hard.  I dropped out of my project management class to get a refund on the tuition. Doug filed for unemployment.  I picked up the gig at Babble & any sponsored post offered (remember that week in December where there were three in a row?) to help alleviate the dip into our emergency fund.  We put the house on the market, knowing that we’d be in deep water if Doug went jobless for more than a year.  & in this economy, that fear was entirely possible.

Doug & I have always been conservative with our finances, which means that in any environment of uncertainty, we treat it like a crisis.

In the middle of November, we discovered that Doug & Harry were no longer covered by insurance, nor was COBRA an option.  This was after we attended Harrison’s two-year check-up, complete with three vaccines.  Plus six private speech therapy sessions.   On top of missing half our income, now we had a heavy month of uninsured medical expenses.

note: money is hard in marriage, even when there is plenty.  it gets harder when times are tight.

At the same time, we have been oddly happier than we’ve been in a long time.  Living so intentionally has created a sense of empowerment & togetherness.  Simplicity really is a lovely thing when $8.00 Netflix is all you can afford.  Hell, we’ve even been having more sex because…what else are we going to do on a Saturday evening with no money?   In early December, Doug praised my Type A personality because Harrison’s Christmas gifts were purchased before the lay-off, which meant Santa would visit.  We took great joy in splurging for a $3.00 Almond Joy coffee creamer that Doug wanted to buy but felt was unecessary.  The smile on his face made me all warm & fuzzy.  He made me coffee the next morning with the creamer.

I wish I could do justice to how perfect that little $3.00 creamer was for making us smile & realizing that something small to share was even better than a dozen roses or a new set of golf clubs or even a vacation.

Things began looking up again as my new insurance kicked in & the boys were covered again.  We had good feedback on our house.  Doug had several good interviews and began helping his old coworker start-up a company under a new investor (it launched this past week!  he is gainfully employed again!).    I made a bonus & we were able to afford a few Christmas splurges. I still adore my new job.  Then Doug’s dad got sick & everything has turned into a bigger ball of stress since then.

The other night, driving in the dark for an hour with Harrison screaming for his Auntie, I thought I might be reaching a breaking point.  I felt like I was constantly working, never shutting off, with the weight of everything on my shoulders.  I felt that old nemesis trying to creep in, those choking thoughts that pull me under.  You deserve this stress, your baby doesn’t love you, you’re a distracted wife, you have a bitter heart, you’ll never get it right…I think the worst part is that even when I feel good & stable, there is this prodigal twisty part of my soul just lurking.

Waiting for me to slip.  Waiting for me to give just an inch.

But I’m not giving an inch.  I’m fucking making it after all, okay?

.

p.s. we are so lucky, so thankful that doug was able to get a paycheck again after only two months of unemployment.  we are bursting with gratitude towards my new job & the timeliness of babble’s job offer, which gave us security the past few months.  my heart goes out to anyone that feels that stress longer than us & i know there are plenty of you out there. i wish there was more i could do other than simply say that i understand.

p.p.s. it feels so good to get this off my shoulders.  like my body just took a huge cleansing breath.

photo

In short, I changed everything about my career.

Without going into the messy, gossipy, bridge-burning details that probably don’t interest anyone, I realized in mid-2010 that it was time for me to leave my job.  Unfortunately, we needed my income & benefits so I stayed with a job that drained my soul & every night, I sent a minimum dozen of resumes.  I went on a slew of interviews, wrote more cover letters than I care to admit, & sobbed misery every night. 

It took over a year of applying & interviewing.  Thousands of resumes.  Four-hour interviews with projects for companies, only to find out that I was “second choice.”  Rejection letters pouring in.  I was terrified that at 28 years old, I hit my career peak.  Then one afternoon over lunch with a friend, she mentioned an opening in her company & like any job lead that came before, I jumped on it quickly.  Two weeks later, my phone rang with an offer & I burst into tears of gratitude.

Yep, I cried on the phone with the recruiter.

I tell you that so a) you won’t take this as job-hunting law because obviously, I have a lot to work on in regards to professionalism.  & b) to warn you that job hunting can be the most emotionally draining time of life.  It’s kind of like dating, but for money.  errm…but not prostitution, I promise.

I’m not a guru or an expert, but I have been in that wretched place of career self-hatred & despair.  & I lived to tell the tale with a bright, shiny new professional future.  & not to get all motivational-speaker on you, but if I can do it?  You can do it.

1)  Perk up your resume.
After seeing something similar on Pinterest, I created a graphic resume to help show how my traditional sales experience with “old folks” coincided with knowledge of that crazy newfangled social media.  Employers went nuts over this because it showed that I could think outside the box & I was creative.

 (p.s. click on the picture to the right & you can see the huge version)

2)  Be fast like a cheetah.
Keep your eye on job listing sites & when you see one you like, pounce!  In the beginning of my job hunt, I’d “save” something for later only to find it pulled three days later.  & I also found a pattern that company’s call the first folks that submit (not always, but most often).  If I got my resume in the day the job posted, I had a higher chance of being called back – I think it’s because I got my name in before they became overwhelmed with an influx of resumes. 

3) Look for a common thread in every job not offered.
They all pointed to me not having a desired set of skills.  This made sense – after five years in sales, I decided to pursue marketing & public relations outside of sales.  Which lead to…

4)  Go back to school. 
I signed up for a class at the local community college to get my certificate in project managment.  I just needed SOMETHING to “push me over the edge” of the competition.  I registered for it months in advance, slapped it up on my resume with a projected graduation date, & employers loved seeing that I was motivated to learn more.  I ended up dropping the class before it even started when I got my job offfer because it was too much to learn a new job & take classes.  (I plan on taking it this spring with my company’s tuition reimbursement plan.)

5) Network.  But be sneaky about it.
Like 90% of the people that have jobs, I had a personal employee referral for my new company.  It was so hard not to announce to the world I AM LOOKING FOR A NEW JOB! when I felt like my blog friends were the best networking possible. Instead, I dropped hints in emails to readers & told my close friends.  I spoke about it in person at local blogging events & even BlogHer.  But I kept it off Facebook, Twitter, the blog, & LinkedIn because I didn’t want my current employer to find out.  It’s a tough balance.

6)  Be a little bonkers.
When I interviewed for the job I am at now, I was reaching the end of sanity.  So I decided to push the limits a little – for my first interview, I wore a sequined top under a traditional blazer & pencil skirt.  The girls are still talking about it to this day – which means I was memorable.  For the follow-up interview, my boss was unable to make the meeting & I suggested a Skype interview.  Within an hour, I was computer-to-computer with the big guy.  Guess what?  They’re still talking about that, too.  I do not intend to sound snobbish or pat myself on the back so much, but find a way to stick out that is still true to yourself.

7)  Lower any inflated sense of entitlement or pride.
This one is the hardest & the realityI did not want to face.  Step back in order to move forward.  I was in sales & marketing for six years, quite successfully selling quarter-million dollar contracts.  I run my own “business” where I create advertising partnerships with big companies.  When I started looking, I went after marketing jobs because I wanted to move away from sales.  But they were all looking for someone with more “practical experience” & saw my sales as a soft skill.  So I scaled back – the job I have now is the Executive Assistant to the Vice President.  When I was hired, we discussed that this was a stepping stone & he already has me working on some projects outside of my job.  So I’ll learn the company as the assistant, know the execs, get my hands dirty with some projects, & hopefully be a project manager in just a few years.  It is worth it.

The biggest lesson I learned was that the wrong job can suck the joy straight from life.  & I deserved better.  So if you’re feeling heart-dry & wasted in your career, put yourself out there.  Don’t be afraid to be rejected & to learn & to be patient.  It will be worth it – I promise.

love,
The Girl With The Most Baller Job & Coolest Boss Ever

p.s.  yep, my new boss & company sure do know about my blog.

Pin It

I started noticing it in pictures, first.  Then the mirror.  It’s becoming more blatantly obvious every single day but I feel like I need confess that my new hipster status is not because I’m listening to She & Him on repeat, but rather because my bank account is dangerously dry these days.

I like being a mom.

When I wrote it, I was all “Blair, you can’t write this.  There’s almost a year of ramblings that point otherwise.”  But I wrote it & it felt good & I compared the emotion to a warm Snuggie.  & I’ve got another confession.

I like being a work-outside-of-da-home mom.

After a solid year of relunctantly dragging my ass to work & fuming that I was missing Yogurt Mountain playdates with my besties & their kiddos, I have come to the realization that my career life is pretty swell.   I’m pretty good at it.  & I like it.

It comes when I start thinking & discussing career growth & opportunities.  I get that adrenaline slug that I used to get every day when I walked through the business school doors.  I start thinking about learning & kicking ass & I get all tingly inside.  I always knew I wanted to be in business.  I always knew I’d be a working mom.  It’s about damn time those two reconciled.

It’s there when I close a sale & know that I just put money in our pockets & even more money in my employer’s pockets.  (far, far more money)

I owe a lot of it to some pretty amazeballs friends of mine that prove you can still be an amazing mom with an eight-to-five.  You just make up for it on Saturday mornings with playdates in the park.  The strength in numbers that comes from my growing posse of working mommas gives me confidence to face the world with a “Yeah, what of it?” when people ask if I work.

& my stay-at-home-momma friends who have never once given me judgment or flack.  Once I pulled my head out of my ass, we started making dinner dates at Chick-fil-a & they make sure I’m invited to events, just in case I might be off work.  (it’s a true story that I do not deserve my friends)

It has it’s challenges, of course, & if you’re interested in hearing me bitch about getting my house clean & finding time to work out or worrying that my kid will need therapy, the blog archives are calling your name.

But when I think about staying home…it just doesn’t feel so completely “right” for me anymore.   Harrison is happy & loved during the day by his auntie.  I am growing comfortable with my time limits.  I’m setting career goals.   We have a routine down that suites our personalities & lifestyle.   I wouldn’t miss the commute, of course, but I would miss the meetings & weird typing sounds in the still of the office.  When I get frustrated & have the moments that we all do in the office where I want to throw up my hands & walk out? I can admit that  I’d probably be job hunting within 48 hours.

& of course, working outside of the home means I have legit reason to order groceries online that nobody can argue.  I really hate grocery shopping.

It’s not to brag.  It’s to simply say that I’ve made peace & even gone a step further passed general acceptance of my fate into really grabbing it by the balls & making it my own.

I KNOW, RIGHT?!

It was like cutting an umbilical cord made of wires & screws.  I even  got a little misty-eyed as I shut down the DVR for the final time, saying goodbye to the saved Carolina basketball games of the 2008-2009 season & my Lipstick Jungle episodes (curse you, NBC, for cancelling my weekly dose of Brooke Shields!).    When I tell folks of our new freedom, the first question is always “WHY?!” quickly followed by, ”What will you do about television?!”  The first, I shall address in a moment.  The reply to the second?  Not a damn thing.

Nate & I have discussed cancelling cable for the past year, once Harrison made his entry into the world.  Mostly, to save money.  We are constantly searching for ways to cut costs so that I may one day stay home, but alas, knocking $100 off our monthly bills doesn’t quite cut it yet.  & when it boils down to time, we’re looking at maybe 4 hours in the evenings between arriving home & bedtime.  & those 4 hours will already be full of dinner, bedtime routines, working out, & getting ready for the following day.   But we never could bring ourselves to make the first move.  Until this week.

The first nudge came from an old friend of mine who cancelled her own cable in favor of Apple TV as a response to her new full-time job as a mother.  It’s always easy to fantasize about cutting something so drastic (at least, drastic in American culture), but so hard to pull the plug.  But to see someone else take that step?  It’s like a light goes off that says, “HEY!  You can do this & not wither away into irrelevant oblivion!”

Drawing inspiration on Nish’s courage, I tried to cancel.  No, really.  I actually called the cable company on Tuesday morning & told them I was cancelling.  “But Mrs. Blair,” the customer service rep asked with a gasp.  “How will you watch your shows?  You don’t really think you can be completely televison-less, do you?”  I stuttered.  “I’ll tell you what,” the rep crooned.  “I’ll lower your bill for you.  How about that?  $98 per month?  You’ll have to cancel your DVR, but that is $50 off your bill.”  A few nice words later, I hung up.

DAMN IT ALL TO HELL.  He got me.  That conniving little bastard, probably high-fiving the headset in the cubicle next to him, smug over keeping one more idiotic fish in the Time Warner sea.

But then Wednesday afternoon, we received our cable bill.  $140.  With a notice of rate increases that would raise our bill to roughly $150  per month.   This tidbit of information was about as well received as Tiger Woods at a Promise Keepers meeting.

So Thursday, I steeled my mind.  Crawled in the dust behind both televisions, disconnected the boxes, loaded them & Harrison up in the Subaru, & drove downtown to the cable company.  Where I promptly dropped a box of equipment on the counter & said, “We quit.”  I like to think that I looked quietly determined & that is why the lady silently took the equipment with no further offers, but the truth is that between Harrison squawking in his car seat, the dirt smear on my cheek from the dusty cable boxes, & me still feel duped by the customer service rep, I probably looked one Prozac away from a padded cell.

Forty-eight hours into being a cable-free family, Nate & I both agree it is the best thing we’ve done since reproducing.  We haven’t even hooked the cord into the wall to receive our free channels.  It’s so easy to lose track of the mindless hours we spend in front of a television, not paying attention to each other or life.  Today, we woke up & fixed a hot breakfast – biscuits & gravy for him, Nutrisystem pancakes for me.  We played with Harrison as a family for over an hour - not just one of us half-assedly batting a rattle while the other channel surfs.  Nate emptied the dishwasher without being asked (because y’all, he wasn’t sucked into a golf tournament).  We read more -outloud & to ourselves.  We play board games.  Our Wii now hosts several old school games that take us back 20 years.  We laugh more – with each other, not at a cartoon prancing across the screen.

So our television stand may be empty.  But our lives are far more full of this:

and this:

I think we’ve gained more than $120 in our bank account, don’t you?

Nate’s policy came back with a quote $100 less than my company, which is glorious & affordable.

So it’s a fairy tale ending — HJ is insured & we don’t eat beans for the rest of our lives!

aaaaaaand I have a bowl of cheese grits to begin my Friday. So it’s going to be a GLORIOUS day.

Glorious.

I suppose we’re all entitled to at least ONE day in these mind-numbing 40 weeks of pregnancy, and personally, I’d like to keep it at just one. As for the NT scan results, I have finally simmered the eff down, so many thanks to those who left encouraging comments & emails.

To try & break down the insurance debacle into a more coherent structure, here are the situation’s fine points:

• My understanding regarding my insurance was that all maternity costs, labor & delivery, hospital charges for baby, etc would all be lumped under “general insurance” & my regular out-of-pocket max & fees.
• Nate has good private insurance through his company. I am not on his insurance because it would cost roughly $450/month to insure me privately, due to maternity, asthma, & my heart condition.
• My understanding was completely wrong — since I have ZERO maternity benefits (that’s right, NONE) then HJ is not automatically covered by my policy. The moment I push HJ out of my vag or the doc lifts him/her out via uterine sunroof, HJ must have his/her own policy. My insurance will cover no nursery costs, pediatrician visits, hospital costs, etc.
• I learned yesterday that to add HJ to my insurance policy, my costs will soar $240 per month, meaning that we will pay almost $300/month to insure me & HJ. We will also have a $6,000 out-of-pocket max to reach.

So freak-out ensued. I called Nate in a panic on his office phone, which generally signifies EMERGENCY-OH-MY-GOD-HUSBAND-ANSWER-YOUR-DAMN-PHONE-NOW. I’m sure you all understand having a wee code between spouses that signifies the world is coming to an end, right? Nate, being the beloved husband he is, called me “sweetie” and said he’d talk to his insurance guy the moment I could pull my shit together & stop hyperventilating into his ear. & he found out this:

• His insurance, of course, refuses to cover me now that I am knocked up. So I must stick with my current insurance.
• His insurance guy basically blows Nate off without giving him a quote & after Nate pressed him, said that $300/month sounded about right.
• I’m pretty sure my husband used genteel Southern graces to display his distaste with the insurance guy’s laziness. Or at least, used some of my favorite 4-letter words.
• So said asshole insurance guy is visiting Nate today to give him a quote to add HJ to his policy after birth.

Now MASSIVE freak-out occurred, where I sobbed in my car & then ran home to stuff my face with a half-pint of Heath Bar ice cream (which, by the way, is incredibly tasty & highly recommended). While I hoarded Heath Bar chips in my cheeks like a chipmunk, Nate & I sat down & discussed our options:

1. We add HJ to my policy, meaning hospital charges will definitely be covered. While we are prepared to pay the 6K out-of-pocket max if need be, the monthly cost is daunting. But we can swing it, providing my car keeps trucking.
2. We take the risk of HJ being healthy & purchase private insurance that will cover HJ 30 days after birth. After brief discussion, this is a huge risk that we’re not willing to take since it would mean HJ is uncovered for the first 30 days of life.
3. Nate’s company offers a policy that will insure HJ from the moment s/he is born, that is less than my insurance’s option.

Obviously, we are praying for #3. If #3 does not pan out, we will choose #1 & simply work room into the budget for the costs. Hopefully Nate will have a quote tonight & we can make a decision quickly & prepare for it. I know it will all work out in the end, but right now, I pretty much feel like a hamster on a wheel & it’s hard to function through the hormonal panic. I feel like I’m missing some important piece, or doing something wrong…maybe one of you can find something amiss about what I have outlined?

oh, and p.s. Target brand granola bars are far too chewy. Like they sat in a vat of lard or water or something equally not tasty.

Unless, of course, I want to multiply my monthly insurance cost by 10 for the next year and double my out-of-pocket expense.

::paper bag fails, blair faints cold on the floor::

• pulling & cramping a muscle while trying to poop
• torrents of rain falling as I dash between daycare centers sans umbrella
• Realizing that childcare + our mortgage will potentially eat up 65% of our combined income
• The bossman currently ditching my proposal to drop to four days
• watching my well-laid plans spin around a metaphorical toilet bowl at the word “unlikely”
• panic attacks revolving around the inability to afford my spawn

Things that do not suck quite so bad:

• lemonade from Chick Fil A
• a daycare director telling me that I am too slim to possibly be knocked up, even though I know that’s an effing lie