It’s called a toddler that decided sleep is for the birds.

That was at 4am.  He finally conked out at 4:30am.

He has two nightlights.
It’s not night terrors (those have an entirely different cry).
He has loveys.
He’s not hungry or thirsty.
He really doesn’t need to drop his nap because he’s not napping 50% of the time anyway.

Basically?  He wants to eff with us.  Which might be a strong sentiment except I’ve only had one cup of coffee & four hours of sleep.

(also, the difference between a newborn being awake all hours &  a toddler being awake all hours is the amount of noise. when a newborn is awake, at least one parent can sleep.  when a toddler is awake, even folks in china hear him.)

It started innocently right around the time I lost my job & we feel for the little guy because it’s obvious he feels the stress in the house.  There have been a lot of changes in his wee world over the past few months & my heart goes out to him.  First Daddy was home a bit, then we were both at work, then Momma came home & he’s overjoyed but missing his Auntie & why isn’t anything the same anymore?!  But Momma needs her REM cycle back & more importantly, the kiddo does too.  After nights of rocking & rocking & rocking in the small hours of the day & Doug camping out on a pallet in his room, & purchasing a star turtle & giving him warm milk, we realized yesterday that it was time to pull out the big guns.  All three of us were at each other’s throats constantly from pure exhaustion.  I snapped at Harrison, something I very rarely do.  So Doug & I shook hands & decided that last night was the night.

We dusted off our Ferber book & got the stopwatch on my iPhone working.

We turned Harrison’s lock around so that we could lock him in, thereby taking back control of his ability to leave his room.  (shall I pause here & clarify that we still go to him, but it means homeboy can’t sneak out at 3am?  good.)

We took out his workbench & garbage trucks.

I turned off his light at the fan so that he can’t party all night long under a ceiling light.  (oh buddy, did that piss him off!)

& we hit the sack by 9pm.

I got a pretty awesome workout going back & forth to his room last night, calmly telling him to “Get back in bed, it’s night-night time.”  Tuck him in, give him a pat on the back, & close the door behind me.  I’m hoping that tonight it won’t take 2 1/2 hours for it to sink in that Momma ain’t fooling around.  Also, this is what we woke up to this morning:

I think it’s fair to say he was pretty ticked that Harrison Rave 2012 was thwarted.

____________________________

& in good news, the reason that Momma can’t hang at 4am anymore is because I got an offer from Microsoft as a contract for their marketing department.

SAY WHAT?!

It’s a contract so I’m still on the hunt for a full-time job with bennies.  The great news is that the contract is on my terms as far as how many hours I work per week & when the contract ends & they fully understand that I am still looking for a job.  So Harry is with his Auntie a few hours per week so I can log in some hours at home & take conference calls & keep interviewing with other companies.  What’s that you say, Charlie?  WINNING.

Remember how you didn't want me as an admin? That's cool. Microsoft thinks I'm worth bringing in to their marketing department. So have a seat, please.

I tell you what, this new gig of mine is really tough stuff.

My new boss keeps a firm hand on quality of work around here.

At least we get regular breaks for meals.

& my coworker is totally hot.  I think I might have to seduce him in the copy laundry room.

Let me just say that I can stand in a board room or jet across the country, but I turn into a complete wuss once I step through Michaels.  All those women with glue stick burns on their fingers, willing to cut a bitch over the last vial of Martha Stewart glitter?  THEY TERRIFY ME.  Same thing with fabric stores.  Also, the strangest thing happens that once I hit the first aisle, I completely forget what I was there for.  Confidence takes a crash & burn so I stand there in the aisles, completely overwhelmed by the choices in felt.

In short:
Before Michaels:  BIG SPARKLY INSPIRATIONAL UNICORNS OF HAPPINESS!

After Michaels:  I WILL NEVER ACHIEVE ANYTHING GOOD IN MY LIFE.

yeah.

I’m standing in line with Harry in the push cart & a matronly lady turns to me.

“Is your mother’s name Karen?” she asks.

“No,” I say politely.

“You look like my friend Karen, so I figured you must be her daughter,” she explains.  I shrug.  Raleigh is a pretty decent-sized city.

“With two children, I figured you had to be her,” she persists.

Is this lady drunk?  I only have one child in the seat & I’m pretty sure the firstborn’s that were traded for Christmas Cricuts weren’t eligible for the 40% off coupon.  Like I said, I’m on a budget so if it’s not on sale, it’s not in my cart.

“You know,” she says.  ”With your boy & the one on the way.”

oh.

shit.

Awkward silence abounds.

Does this lady not know Rules of Feminism #253: Don’t ask a woman if she’s pregnant unless the fetus is 75% down the birth canal with a hand waving?

I knew if I stayed in bed, we’d have a repeat of Friday where I was in pajamas at 4pm with no shower & pretty much a sorry state of affairs.

So I got up, poured a cup of coffee & popped muffins in the oven.  Straightened my hair & rubbed a dash of perfume under my jeans & light sweater.  I felt silly at first – who would see me?  I looked at the silk tops & pencil skirts & lined slacks hanging in my closet.  I’m going to need more jeans.  Will I ever wear that purple silk shift again?  I’m going to need a hat & gloves that aren’t dressy.  Should I just have a “shop my closet” sale?  I’m going to need more Zoloft.

I typed out words & listened to the quiet, finding thankfulness in not having to commute.  That bumper-to-bumper traffic was really fraying my nerves & patience.  The oven dings – muffins are ready.  I make a second cup of coffee & wonder if the new kitchen chairs will be delivered soon.  I wonder if I should send them back, even though they were purchased with Christmas money.

An hour later, Harry stood at the top of the stairs, bleary-eyed & hugging his stuffed monkey.

& so this new journey begins, the journey with an unexpected start & no set end.

So.

I am unemployed.

YANK.

It was unexpected.

YANK.

(also?  ouch.)

.

More to come after coffee & getting dressed & figuring out my first day as a temporary stay-at-home-momma.

There was that time I clogged an industrial toilet & then there was this & then this.  & I realized that I totally forgot to show you my new shiny office bathroom!  Shut up, you know you’ve been on pins & needles for this.

So nice, right?  Four stalls!

You can’t see the person’s shoes under the stall doors or sides, so bathroom activities can be all ninja-like.  Nobody has to know it was you with the coffee-smelling pee.

Naturally, the risk you run with this set-up is the inability to toss a wad of paper under the partition to an unsuspecting & paper-less patron.  But they take care of this by providing ample supplies.

You are so welcome for this.

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.

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.

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I hate that for the past six years, the holidays had become a burden because of my previous employment.  We pulled out dusty Christmas trees & bins of ornaments, thousands to take inventory.  A week later, my day was spent decorating three, four, sometimes five Christmas trees & hanging garland until I trudged home exhausted & filthy.  Then I would stand in my living room, staring at my fresh tree & wonder how I could muster another string of lights.  I felt dull putting the pieces of my beloved nativity up, a present from Doug, because I had already set up two similar stables around my office.  I wondered how I could bake cookies with my child when the sight of the piles of sweets, gifts from other companies, made my blood sugar & pressure rise.  Last year, I did not plan or throw my traditional tacky sweater party because after two company gatherings & three resident parties, I was partied out.  (& not in the exhilerated way we all remember from our twenties.)

In the middle of October, my Christmas assignments dropped onto my desk & that night, I cried that I could not take one more holiday season.  I could not mingle at one more party not hosted by me, or hang one more garland that was not mine.  Four days after my sobfest, a phone call came, an offer was accepted, & I tore my Christmas assignment sheet in half.  Quite gleefully, I might add. 

This year, I anticipate the holidays eagerly.  My friend Sarah spurred me to plan the Sweater Party & I bake cookies with Harrison each Saturdy.  I’m finding ways to give back with the little we have this year, which is still more than most.  Doug & I curled up one night, slippers on feet & glasses of champagne in hand, remembering each ornament & dancing to Christmas carols.

O come, O come, Emmanuel…

I know.  I think too much.

& there was this one bathroom sort of “designated” for the more advanced graduation of potty training, if you know what I mean.

If you don’t, I’m talking about poop.

If a client was in the stall next to me, it was all gravy because once you hit eighty, I think your main goal in life is to a) have another meal & b) eventually poop it out.  I’m not being cheeky, it’s just that the older generation takes their fiber very seriously & if you think I’m being rude, just ask them.  But if a coworker was there?  I would silently try to lift my feet so my tell-tale red flats weren’t visible from the sink & pray the person wouldn’t stop to primp.  Which they would.  & I’m all silently jeering them for tucking in their shirt & putting on a new layer of chapstick when DON’T YOU KNOW THAT CHILDREN ARE STARVING ACROSS THE OCEAN & I AM USING THE RESTROOM?

So I am happy to report that at my new office, the bathrooms are spacious & lovely & each stall is really like it’s own little “room,” where shoes are not visible.

& more importantly than poop, it means that nobody can laugh while watching my cracked-out chicken wiggle dance back into my shapewear.