Potential For Doocing | Heir to Blair

Sure, I think I can go in here.

17 May posted by heirtoblair

bathroom3 Sure, I think I can go in here. Ladies & gentlemen, welcome to another installment of PUBLIC BATHROOM TOURS!

These are just so riveting.

Except not.

So first we had the really amazing bathrooms at my former place of employment where you couldn’t see people’s feet & therefore not be able to properly detect who had the asparagus or coffee pee that morning. Those bathrooms were all about preserving dignity.

Then there were Tall Girl Problems in Nashville.

I have to admit that with the peanut M&Ms in the breakroom & the chef-designed lunches in our cafes, not to mention the miles of running trails & on-campus gym, I was a little disappointed in the state of these bathrooms. They’re basic & I half-way expected the toilet to do the work for me.

Here’s an overview of what we’re working with:

bathroom2 Sure, I think I can go in here.

Unfortunately, you can see feet. & there is space between the door & stalls so I can totally see what color pants you’re wearing or if you’re playing on your iPhone.

bathroom1 Sure, I think I can go in here.

The toilet paper is the most fascinating, as it comes out like a tissue. I’m guessing this is an effort to produce less waste?

bathroom4 Sure, I think I can go in here.

Here’s to another day of me being the office weirdo that takes pictures of bathrooms.

HeirtoBlair500x150 v41 Sure, I think I can go in here.

14 Comments
Filed Under: BA is effing crazy, BA's a nerd, Life in General, Potential for Doocing, Random

I’m teaching life skills here, people. Pay attention.

27 Apr posted by heirtoblair

I’m one week into my new gig & really enjoying it. The work feels very intuitive, so it’s challenging but coming naturally. Not to mention that wearing jeans to the office & having M&Ms in the breakroom really helps, although I’ve been taking daily walks on the trails to get some sunshine & burn some calories. I’ve been training all week so there’s really not much to say except that it’s been a much easier transition from home back to the office than I thought it would be.
I miss the kidlet, but he is really thriving in daycare. We get a daily report & he’s doing an awesome job participating, especially in art. I used to adore art class as a kid, so it’s really no surprise that it’s his favorite too.
The hardest part of this transition is being away from Doug at night, but we were able to go on a date night last night for dinner & American Reunion.

017399a2901311e1989612313815112c 7 Im teaching life skills here, people. Pay attention.

p.s. if you’re not following me on Instagram, my user name is bethanneballance on there.
Do I sound all “meh?” I don’t mean to. I’m just very tired, mostly mentally from soaking in all the new information for the job & finding our new routine in life.
Last night I had to pull a tick off Tucker – Doug said he’s so thankful I had ten years of Girl Scouting because there’s no way he could have done that. (The best way to remove a tick is to strike a match & then blow it out. Place the hot end of the match on the tick’s back, which will make it pull it’s head out. Then grab it with tweezers, yank it off & flush it down the toilet. Works on dogs, humans, etc.) Needless to say, she’s going for a “spa day” for a tick dip, bath, & toenail clipping. I’ll tell her it’s for her sixth birthday, which is next week.
Thank you so much for your encouragement & sympathetic MARKET HULKSMASH from the house selling post. We had showings #44 & #45 last night, but no feedback yet. I’m still feeling pretty darn discouraged but brainstorming some tricks for it’s re-listing next week.
I get to decorate my office any way that I like – does anyone have any links to a favorite Etsy seller that makes prints? I don’t know what I’m looking for, just something fun to brighten up the space.
Could I sound more redneck in this post for telling you how to pull off a tick? Southern life skills, my friends.

How’s your week going? I miss y’all. I feel like I’ve been so out of the loop this week. Anything cool happening?

33 Comments
Filed Under: Friday Dump, Harry in General, Life in General, Outsourcing Parenting Skills, Potential for Doocing

Lessons of Three Months Time.

23 Apr posted by heirtoblair

423646428bfe11e1af7612313813f8e8 7 Lessons of Three Months Time.

This kid, he bear-hug loves his momma.

& his momma loves him back.

I came alive as Harrison’s mother over the past few months. The doubts & lack of confidence & inability to focus simply shed away & I’m not sure whether it was from the sunshine in the backyard or being the boss of my own day or his incredible tiny grin. But I came alive in the happiest & most fulfilling way possible, all the way down to my toes until motherhood felt like a calling to my soul. Driving through town with the windows down & groceries in the backseat, I’d flick my eyes to the rearview mirror & catch Harry’s smile & I would think to myself YES.

Yes, motherhood.

Yes, incredible joy & worthwhile sacrifice & overwhelming love.

Yes, I’ve finally got it.

I’ve always been a little off-beat but I think the oddest thing is that the longer I’m with Harrison, the more I mother, the less tired & overwhelmed I feel. Two hours can bring me to my knees but three months home can be a balm to the soul where we’ve figured our quirks & my patience surprises me with its ability to simply roll with the tide, even when there’s a gallon of milk on my floor. To where he’s the beat of my heart & being without him feels like I might as well leave my right arm with him, too. Here, take my kidney too.

Only three months & already I feel lost without his little arms wrapped around my legs but the penchant is still there to count everything & it’s a private joke that only I know when I lift the second half of my sandwich & think “two” & I smile. My new boss must think I’m strange & maybe I am, but I’m a momma above all, even with my fingers flying above a keyboard.

8b97f1148bfe11e1a39b1231381b7ba1 7 Lessons of Three Months Time.

18 Comments
Filed Under: Adult Club, All about BA, Finding Balance, Harry in General, Life in General, Potential for Doocing, Sorta Staying Home, Things I didn't understand until I birthed a child, Toddlers eat your brains

Moving back to the homestead.

18 Apr posted by heirtoblair

Starting Monday, I will be living at my parent’s house during the weekdays. My new job (so freaking excited & nervous!) is even further from our for-the-love-of-God-please-sell-already house, which means that Harrison & I would need to leave the house by 6:30am to begin a roughly 2-hour commute including daycare drop-off.

That ain’t happening. My sanity can’t take it & my Twitter stream cannot handle any more LOOK HOW LONG IT TOOK ME TO GET HOME! that they had this past winter.

So to cut back the time by roughly an hour each way, Harrison & I will be living out of suitcases on work nights & then trudging back to our home for the weekends. Doug will be doing a 50/50 dance of checking on the house & staying with us. I’m not looking forward to being without my husband so much, but we know it’s temporary.

This is the room I’ll be staying in – one of the guest rooms that has zero of the personality it used to have with college banners & football trophies from when my brother lived in here. I’ll be moving in my desk & computer & I switched out one of the nightstands for a bookcase (I love having my books close). The Momma is clearing out space in the closet as I type. But I’m at a loss as to what to do…I’ll be here 5 nights out of the week without my husband for who knows how long & I am wondering if I should try to bring a little of “us” to this room. Bring pictures of our little family, use a bedspread from home.

I’ll need to remember to bring over Harry’s favorite bedtime books & toys for the evenings. I’ll need to leave a post-it note reminding Doug to water the garden every night. It’s going to be crazy-weird living under my parent’s roof again, except now I’m an adult & it’s so temporary. Hopefully our house will sell this spring so that we can put all this nasty commuting mess behind us for good.

But for now, I guess I’m moving back to the homestead.

Y’all.

23 Comments
Filed Under: Adult Club, All about BA, Finding Balance, I share DNA with these folks, Life in General, Moving on up, Outsourcing Parenting Skills, Potential for Doocing, The I Do's, Things that aren't perfect despite my best efforts

Wait…what did I do again today?

4 Apr posted by heirtoblair

Monday was one of those days where Doug walked through the front door & I just shrugged.

There was no dinner in the oven, the child was shoeless & filthy, toddler bedding was strewn across the living room floor, & my hair was in a top knot with a bandana holding back my bangs. In short? We were a hot, hot mess. If Doug had asked me what I did all day (you know, if he wanted to have his balls for dinner), then I would have simply said that I kept his kid alive for one more day.

Oh, sure. I had plenty of aspirations including homemade chicken pot pie for dinner & dessert in the oven for the basketball championship game. When I woke up that morning, I imagined booking an extra hour while the boys did their nightly game of chase in the backyard. Then reality took over – Harrison slept in a little bit, I took him out for breakfast before we went grocery shopping & he was perfectly behaved the entire morning. Then he dumped tomato soup on his head & needed a mid-day bath, my laptop battery died, & I found two molars blistering through his gums all before naptime. We spent the rest of the day “camping” in a Thomas the Train tent & coloring (only making it into the coloring book 50% of the time, RIP Melissa & Doug puzzle).

Nothing that mothers don’t deal with on a regular basis. Nothing that I didn’t face in the office with other work. Nothing to complain about or make a fuss over, but just the little things that take away from the moments in the day & I look up & oh my, how is it 5:30pm already?! I haven’t worked or made dinner or cleaned the house or done anything that leaves a tangible response.

I called my mother the next morning & she reassured me that in her many years at home, she had days like that where the clock flew faster than the to-do list. & that there were many times where “Honey! The children are still alive!” was worth celebrating.