New Shows, New Crafts, New Projects - No Motivation

Since I've been in the process of the un-funk, I take everyone else down with the ship, so to speak. I have this amazing habit, of when I don't know what to watch or what to do with myself, I turn on The Office or Friends. Mostly, The Office gets the pick. Comfort zones just so familiar and easy.

I've made myself watch all new, unfamiliar shows. Success. I've started podcasting. Success. I started new workout stuff, still new but success. And now I've pushed it onto my kid.

We had dinner outside this week because why the hell not? We read new books this week together because we could. And I'm forcing her to try new shows because she defaults to watching My Little Pony Friendship is Rare, like I watch The Office, over and over and over again. 

She has not been an easy sell. I've been pushing new PBS-like things from Prime. Pete the Cat was so far my only success.

My sisters are wonderful at sending me real projects to do with my child. Like lengthy, time consuming projects. One is a sewing kit. We have a half made puppy. She gets very frustrated quickly and easily on this one. Now we are working on a home-made pinata kit. Yes, my daughter has recently discovered the wonder that is a pinata. And I mentioned this to my sister and in her recent Easter care package, the pinata kit was waiting for her.

She is currently gluing fringe on the Pinata talking at me. It's pretty much the best.

My dad, my daughter and I all share the incessant need to have projects and create in times of mental stress and anxiety. Sometimes I hate that I passed it down to her but in the instance of the pinata it's amazing.

The worst part is my motivation is flailing. I really need to step it up. I make no apologies for being tired. I work full time have a kid and dog and husband. I'm a tired mama; there are not enough hours in the day.

But I am very much that person who just feels the drive to improve and push, push and improve, consistently. I will always work harder, or extra if I can get to some of my goals. 

The new shows are fun because I feel like Netflix and the like are just never-ending watch lists. How are we supposed to make a dent in that? I've found the Good Place, Glow and of course, Maniac as mentioned before. My daughter found some new Barbie Series, Give a Mouse a Cookie and Pete the Cat.

New crafts are always fun. I consider myself a ghetto crafter. For me it is always about cheap supplies and it never has to look, just right. The important thing is the creativity, in my humble opinion. 

I always have a list of new projects, how many of them actually start and are completed in reasonable amounts of time is a whole different thing. I'm not one to take on too big of things when I know they will sit unfinished because that is the stuff that bugs me. However, projects make me happy. 

So here it is, a silly Saturday filled with cleaning and craziness. There are always looming plans, play dates and dysfunctions. I have laundry to fold and people to see. While I'm feeling calm and far more peaceful than a few weeks ago, I'm very aware of the wobbly-ness. This has been mentioned before as a favorite word and I still embrace it, completely.

I've been around enough of the stress of others to know where to take a step back and where to watch new shows, start new crafts and keep finding new projects for sure. So enjoy this weekend and I'm sure I will have an entire entry devoted to that of the pinata adventure soon!

Sunday Is Really Just Monday Eve

I've successfully been a heathen about a month now. I've taken a church hiatus; it happens every so often. Mostly out of exhaustion, but right now I'm just going through some stuff, and while some find solace within church walls, for me it adds to the confusion. So I've just been taking some space.

It can be hard to explain but my daughter and I are similar in our wavelengths when it comes to hitting our social-ness walls. We're so good at planned and routine activities, but every so often we need to just do our own version of way less, and kinda just "be."

I tried to be that mom that planned the play dates and activities this weekend but it was a good lesson for both my daughter and I that, things can turn on a dime. Time to adapt. She had a melt down earlier and it was warranted but I quickly tried for a "Plan B" of sorts and was able to get her back on track. She is now exhausted in front of Netflix.

It's recently been discovered that my comfort zone is just watching TV and that's how I relax. In this day and age if you aren't watching 14 series on all the streaming at once, you're out of the loop. It can feel just as overwhelming as the rest of life. I've found my ways to integrate all the things without compromising too much of myself but it's definitely a balancing act to say the least. 

Sunday has really just become Monday Eve. For me it's all about "before the week kicks off," down time. I'm sure that is the way it was designed and laid out in the bible, but it's funny we seldom find it feasible. I even still have some basic cleaning things I "should do." Knowing me I will push it off until next week because I might end up feeling the weight of things to come.

Sunday in this house is usually the only opportunity we have to choose to "sleep in." For most parents, "sleeping in" is for teenagers and college students. There is always an animal or child that wakes you. For me, sleeping in is waking upon my own volition, meaning without an alarm. Sunday is the only chance I have of that. Every other day is scheduled and regimented. So planning to get up and go on Sunday can cause me a lot of stress, turns out my daughter revealed slightly the same sentiment and today we slept in.

Sunday around 4PM I turn into a pumpkin. It's a countdown to Pajamas. Dinner and bed time is always pretty early and if I can get the dog out for one more round before we all just collapse, I feel accomplished. There is also always laundry and likely a few more chores. But to me it's a count down and at the strike of 8PM all must be quiet on the home front. 

Starting the week off right is huge for me. I feel like it can set the tone. With Sunday as just the day before Monday, it's so important for me to feel capable of starting the routine again. I've had to adapt a lot lately, and so has my daughter and sometimes I feel like I can see, like very visibly see, the wear and tear it has had on us. 

Sometimes, okay often, I feel like a bad mom. When I finally got my home as just mine with my mother in a separate space and my very own first house, I stopped pretending we all had to do everything together. I have a TV in my room, and the living room one is shared among us all but is usually overrun by my daughter. I don't often watch hours of My Little Pony sitting there bored. Mostly I'm doing chores or working on things in my room with something I want to watch in the background. 

I'm just one room away and I just refuse to sit there with her when she doesn't even care. We watch Disney movies together, and I've watched an episode or two of her favorite shows but I let her "binge-on" and enjoy. I feel it's no worse than kids playing hours of iPad and everyone is allowed time to veg out, especially right before the week starts.

On weekdays, she doesn't get any of her own shows. Sometimes we have TV on in the background but she doesn't get to watch any movies or shows of her own. We have set routines and I make sure we follow as much as we can. I'm fully aware that some day sports and such will derail any plan I could have, so I enjoy the calm while I can.

Mondays through Fridays are just so darn busy, and with Sunday and Monday eve it can feel like the calm before the storm. What is the phrase now? "Sunday scaries?" I think that's the scare before the impending week, perhaps but I'm not down with the cool kid lingo so I'm unsure. Sunday is when I feel the most likely to self care. Saturdays are often still packed and busy.

So here we are on Monday Eve. I had the most "Monday-est" Friday there ever was, a productive and fantastic Saturday and Sunday has been outdoor adventures leaving me to sit in my bed and type this while listening to the kids Netflix profile bark from the TV in the living room. I have laundry to fold, dinner to prepare, some spot cleaning to do, and I desperately would love to snag some more down time. 

On this Monday Eve, I say this; self care on a Sunday is tantamount to some of us functioning well from week to week, so tread lightly with those of us that seem more "lazy" on these days. Everyone is on different wavelengths and if you find someone on a similar one to you, vibe with that well, as I've work diligently on with my daughter. Send those check in texts if the week took over and Saturday came and went. Sundays are the perfect time to reboot for the week ahead and it's easier to reach out before Monday sweeps you away.

Lastly, it's okay to not be okay, as one of my favorite people so gently reminded me this week. And taking space in your own way is also okay, just don't live there for too long, this world and your tribe needs you. So happy Monday Eve. May your last hours of the weekend be gentle, and prepare you well for another week!

Life In Proximity To The Hospitality Industry

About a decade ago, I left my life of being a nanny and a full time student in Eugene, Oregon to come to the "beautiful, lawless swamp" that is Florida. My first job was a cashier in a medical apparel store or "Scrub Store" as we called it in the University Community Hospital right by USF main campus.

My husband, however, has always been a restaurant man and a self-taught cook, which is one of the reasons I married him, because I cannot cook, like at all. I can bake a few things but outside of Mac and Cheese, sandwiches and salads, nope.

The hubby got a job at like 19 or 20 maybe at "Pizza Pete's" Italian Kitchen in Eugene and worked his way up from the dish pit and delivery to learning the ropes in the kitchen. From there it was to the new, soon to be hot spot, "El Vaquero," which was Eugene's premier Tapas Bar, and also had one of America's top 5 bartenders, Jeffrey Morgenthaler, as the man behind the cocktails. Morgenthaler and his second in command, Scott Butler, took my hubby under their wing from time to time to show him all about craft cocktails and what real bartenders looked like.

At El Vaquero my husband went from prep to pastry chef and a little bit in between. When the owners saw that he could actually thrive in the kitchen, the sent him across town to his pride and joy, Asado. Asado was a smaller, but also intimate Mexican-type kitchen with tapas and cocktails, and it was there he found his long time friend, Jarred, who was a groomsman at our wedding. He learned how to run a kitchen and even a restaurant during his time there.

When Asado was sold, he moved onto The Old Pad, which was strictly "bar food" and then lastly to the Villard Street Pub near campus. He has learned every single cuisine from scratch, from Italian to Mexican, to Sushi to Coastal Cuisine and lastly, French food. In Florida he got a job at a Sushi place, a Mexican Grille, then a local bar, he helped open a new Coastal Kitchen in Westchase and designed the menu, then for the same company put together craft cocktails and American gastro-pub fare at another new restaurant that holds two locations to this day and will remain nameless. From there he did some time at a local artisan sandwich place, finally landing a high-end French fine dining establishment close to home. He's never gone to culinary school and is extremely talented in my humble opinion.

However, living the life of the wife of a chef, is anything but easy. I had my foray in the food biz about 9 and a half years ago too. We once worked at the same restaurant together, he was in the kitchen and I was front of the house. I had the personality and the energy for it, but I got burned and burned out quickly in every sense of the words. The picture above is from my favorite restaurant life movie "Waiting," which I used to watch weekly to handle the stress of that whole atmosphere.

I was good at my job too, but I had no desire to be a manager and the tipping system where I was, left a lot to be desired. I met some amazing people though, and learned a lot. My biggest takeaway is pictured below, please excuse the swear but unfortunately it is completely true:

While I am incredibly proud of my husband and ever-impressed by his culinary evolution, no one tells you that life in restaurant industry is rough as you enter the family phases. And I say this for me personally, not even just for the man working the stove! We had once talked about running a restaurant together someday, and even once had the opportunity to do so outside of Florida, but as my husband simply said, "Then you would really never see me."

When I say I never see my husband let's break it down for all you non-believers. After half a decade of struggling as parents and job-jumping and life hurdles, I have found my "forever job," that is unless they fire me. It is an 8-5, lunch at noon office type thing. It is reliable with all the benefits that work best for family life. The kid is in school and after care full tilt. My daughter and I are off full weekends and I'm home every single evening.

Hubby is not quite on the same schedule although he did score Saturdays as a routine day off, which is a restaurant life miracle, but regardless, we don't have much time together. In a realistic scope, we have Saturday from about 8:30am to 10pm at night, give or take bed times, so what is that 13ish hours? And we have Sunday mornings from say 7:30am to 1:30pm, but throw in church drumming, commuting and errands, maybe separate cars, we can call that a good 4 hours of seeing each other? And he is off all day Monday and I get home at 6pm and am always in bed by 9pm weekdays so, let's call that 3 hours? So doing the math; 13 + 4 + 3 is...20 hours a week.

I have the opportunity to see my husband for a total of 20 hours a week, at best. That is less than a full day out of 7 days each week. You may think I'm exaggerating or being dramatic, and I'd like to say I am but add in errands, or plans with other people on the nights I have back up and it's easily less than 20 hours a week. It's not an simple thing.

For the longest time, this born of was necessity. When you literally cannot afford childcare or daycare or anything like that but still can't just stay home full time, you work opposite shifts, not matter how crappy and painful. You promise yourself it will get easier as the kiddo gets older and it does in SOME ways, but the more things change, the more things stay the same.

My husband's talents are completely underrated by many; I think my dad and sisters may be his biggest fans. He usually gets irritated because of all the favorite things of his I love for him to make, all I ever want is Tacos and Pizza, which he finds unimpressive. They are so damn good though!

He's always made me insanely proud because he has brought himself up from the dish pit to a sous chef, but that's not to say the life in proximity to the hospitality industry doesn't have its sacrifices and challenges, because it very much does.

The wives that send their men to the army, or that have husbands that constantly travel for business, or their hubby runs a hotel or bar? Those are the women in my tribe who can commiserate, if not trump my whining over wine-ing. It sucks sometimes, but unfortunately I've gotten used to it.

In a perfect world we'd have family meals every evening, we'd have routine nights out and all the sporting events and extra curricular activities would rule our nights and weekends, but we are far from being able to do that. We cram a lot into Saturdays. We juggle a lot on Sunday mornings more often than not, and we just keep on keeping on.

It's hard for a lot of people to understand and sometimes I wonder if we would even know how to be around each other more, if it ever happened. Even on vacations it's like divide and conquer and we have to re-learn how to be around each other for that many hours in row. 

I'm extremely grateful to have a man who works insanely long, 12-14 hour shifts on his feet creating delicious food and still manages to cook for me, while providing for the family. Although, I will say,  life in the hospitality business is not for the faint of heart. There are a million times I wish he could have come home early from a shift to help with the sick kid, the sick dog or a sick me, but alas we continued.

I think life is hard enough as it is, and as we grow older we just look for ways to shape things to ease the rough exteriors and make everything more palatable. I very much have to take one day at a time. I've learned that planning in advance with his career is super difficult. I've learned how to operate around the Kitchen chaos. I've learned that most of kitchen life is fluid and if you can't stand the heat, you gotta get out of the kitchen, all puns intended. 

Maybe some day schedules will align and be different but for now, we stay grateful for the food on the table, the roof over our heads and health we have to work the hours we do, especially for him. As I live this life in proximity to the Hospitality Industry I can say I've learned so much and appreciate all the lessons...and the food, but certainly wouldn't mind seeing the man behind the food more often. A girl can dream! Cheers!

Of Lice And Zen

There are strange kinds of rites of passage anymore. There are loose teeth, first steps, first bike rides, with and without training wheels. There are skinned knees, maybe a trip or two to the ER with some stitches, some friendly teasing is par for the course, but one rite of passage for small children makes us all itch just thinking about it:

LICE.

I had a traumatic lice experience when I was about 13 that has scarred me for life mentally. My dad and I did a road trip across the country and I picked a hotel, a chain hotel that will remain nameless, and among a toilet with a nice turd in it to start, we left with a pen, a pad of paper and some complimentary lice. They stayed dormant on me for about 3 weeks all the way until we returned home.

I was that teenager that started "collecting" stuffed animals as if to hoard for future children. My talking Elmo had to have surgery to remove the talking parts so he could be cleaned. My dad and I were mortified; it was horrible. It was after my mom had left so he felt like a crap parent and I felt so gross and embarrassed. 

It was about a month after the lice fun when I was younger that my dad took me to the salon to get a hair cut and style for the dance. They found lice and wouldn't finish my hair and I left crying. Around we went again.

Since my daughter started in school, lice is just part of the experience; it's like getting the flu or a cold, eventually it comes your way. Now I totally have serious issues and PTSD about it, so I use Tea Tree Oil as prevention a lot and have been pretty tenacious about things. I kind of always knew it could or would happen eventually.

The aftercare program my daughter attends has these outbreaks once a vacation I swear. There's one at summer, one at Christmas and now spring break. Usually we fair well but this time, BOOM, it hit both of her besties. I had been warned by the moms and stayed positive, but I accepted our fate that it could happen.

Yesterday I picked up my daughter. I was ready for early bed time and restful evening. She was in her car seat 2 minutes and she yelled, "OH MOM! I'm sooooo itchy!" I almost panicked but instead took a breath and asked, "Where?" I wanted to blame fire ant bites from the play ground or some mosquitoes but she said, "The bottom of my head and my ponytail!"

SHIT. Did you notice LICE and SHIT are both 4 letter words? Fun fact.

I remained calm and said, "Okay let's just get home and check." My daughter was an anxious wreck. Some of it looked like dirt flecks so I got out the flashlight. Ever so tiny, there they were. I Googled to be sure of course but it was them. Tiny, itchy devils! There were only about five that I spotted in one area. Off to Walgreens was the plan.

My daughter immediately crumbled, "OH mom WHY!? WHY DID I GET LICE! I'm so sorry, mom! EWWWWW! Who gave me their lice! Am I injured?" Completely out of character, I kept my cool. One issue at a time. Divide and conquer. I was in this with just her, it was just her and I, we could do it.

I called my mom who miraculously was available and asked her to come by so I could go get eradication supplies. She said, "She will want mom, I'll go to Walgreens and get whatever you need." This was huge and helpful.

Next, we tackled the sheets everywhere, and her 900 stuffed animals. Holy laundry, Batman! My daughter was still upset, distraught and just weeping. I kept calm and told her we could push through it all. She helped me with the stuffed animals and sheets and we readied her for the tub. I promise a cupcake for while she was sitting with the stuff on her head for 10 minutes. I read the directions after my mom dropped off the kit and completely coated my home in Tea Tree Oil. It smells like a hippie paradise.

My daughter has thick, curly hair. Hair brushing was already a task. This was going to suck. She did great with the stinky treatment and then the kitchen sink rinse off. The brushing, was rough. Once I started to see them appear in the hair, there weren't many but getting them out was such a pain in the ass. She was crying and screaming. I broke down 3 times just yelling at her and we both kept apologizing. I apologized for yelling and that she was going through it, and she apologized for screaming and that she had lice. Back and forth, tears and stress. 

By the end of the hour combing and brushing she was so done. I was too. She barely ate dinner and both of us were exhausted. We got home at 6. We had started everything by 6:30, we weren't done with hair until 8:30 and we stopped the mania around 9. I still had my sheets to change and endless laundry.

I told her over and over she did so wonderfully. The scramble still wasn't over. All I thought about was the first process, that's it. I didn't even kind of think about anything else. When my husband called from work to check in, he said, "Well what about tomorrow, she can't go to aftercare and come back with them again? You just treated her."

SHIT.

Now what? It was 9PM and conventionally too late to bother people. First thing, I check with the babysitter, the babysitter that I already booked from 5:30PM to 11PM because I had a concert to go to with a friend. Let's ask her to come early. The husband worked at noon. I told him to fish for help. No one took the bait.

My daughter and I passed out hard. I barely moved until just before my alarm. When I woke up the anxiety of what to do with her kicked in. There was an annoyed mom part of me that wanted to tell daddy that since he missed all the lice fun, he could just go to work late while I went back to normalcy and he could deal. The considerate mother and crazy planner started to message those in my village that were amazing helpers.

Two close mom friend of mine stepped up big time and I could rest easy at work. One more lice hurdle handled and I'm mentally prepping for another treatment this weekend. Those things are not welcome in my home.

To my surprise my daughter and I pulled it together nicely. A year ago I would have been screaming, crying and making everything so much worse. But this time I just wanted to handle the issue, and make sure my daughter knew, not only was this completely not her fault, but it was just a crappy thing that happened and it was okay to be upset. 

I grabbed her little face when I finally ceased the violent combing and said, "You did so good. You're tired. You did such a good job in a bad situation and I love you. Be tired, and just relax." I was finishing up chores and I heard her talking to the dog, as if to commiserate and say "Your sister is tired and not feeling well. Your sister had a bad day."

I went to bed and had a moment where I was disappointed that my husband wasn't around for the festivities, but then realized that I was so well adjusted to being the mother in action, that I'm not sure it would have made much difference aside from the fact he's the "better brusher." Today I called my dad and he asked how I was holding up because we both had instant flashbacks to our lice days and he wanted to check up on me. I was totally zen about the whole thing.

It's weird how these situations have ushered in more of my evolution and ability to stay calm in the chaos. I would compare it to this:

It now made me feel like the old me was Te Fiti, raging on, and now I'm all zen, and waiting to nap. 

The fact that I am so calm is so weird to most because I've been walking anxiety for years, but if I can handle what I would consider one of my worst nightmares and keep my daughter mentally intact in the midst, maybe I'm progressing as I've intended. 

Now it's Friday so I'm going to take my Zen to enjoy it and hopefully the lice understand they are undesirable #1. At least I got a great blog out of it all!

It Ended Up Being A Baseboard Day

Every weekend I clean. A lot. For many hours. Sometimes just Saturday. Sometimes I span it over two days, depending on my energy level. But every weekend I clean, like it or not.

After horseback riding lessons we got home and I had a small lunch type situation and then started my mental checklist. A friend who recently moved away left us an obscene amount and strange array of leftover cleaning supplies. I had slowly been using them for random things around the house, as I usually do vinegar based things and have some weird aversion to the smell some cleaning products, bleach especially.

I found an all purpose cleaner and looked down and realized...it had been a good month since I did the baseboards. I saw one particular spot that was completely gross. And then it began...and it ended up being a baseboard day. 

I can only speak for myself, but have to ask, does anyone else loathe doing baseboards? I have this weird wave of emotions and hilarious thoughts as soon as I start the task. It goes from, "I immediately regret this decision," to thoughts like, "oh my gosh, how gross are we living?" 

I start and I'm like, "Hey this isn't that bad." But as I progress I'm like, "Ugh why did I even start this? Well I already started it so I have to finish now. How did dirt get there?" Before you know it, I'm internally having a full on conversation with myself, and therefore have entered crazy town. 

I was cleaning the baseboards thinking of writing this blog and how, you have to get in all these weird uncomfortable positions to clean them, and reach all these weird angles. All of the sudden, then I wonder, why do we even have baseboards and why did I arrange the furniture to make this so difficult? Again, cleaning the baseboards becomes some weird internal philosophical conversation. It's so strange how my mind wanders when I'm doing cleaning tasks.

Cleaning the baseboards is gratifying and annoying all at the same time, and I totally wish it were less exhausting, but when I'm done I feel that amazing sense of accomplishment. So I'm bending and squatting and conforming and scrubbing, all to clean the dog hair and every day life of the spot that buffers the wall and the floor. All the while my daughter is scurrying around clearing her messes and getting ready for a play date.

I finally start to see the light at the end of the tunnel and then hit that mental wall about the rest of the things I need to clean. There's a huge part of me that gets a sense of pride knowing that I'm the one who does the bulk of the cleaning in my own home. My husband has recently been a huge, huge help and even the kiddo pitches in from time to time but mostly it's all me that keeps up with the chores and maintenance making the house a home.

Of course I dream about having a house cleaner and not having to spend my weekends cleaning, and if I ever had room in the budget I would spend it on freeing up my time in that way, but I also like knowing when I cleaned what and with what supplies. I think it's more of that control in the chaos thing that I live by. I love knowing there are certain things I have full control over, no matter what else is going on in my life. And cleaning arranging is one of those easy things to manage.

I always sleep better when I have a clean house. I can start my week successfully knowing that kicked butt at home ownership and did all my necessary chores. I also feel better mental health-wise knowing that I keep my house tidy and the filth minimal. 

So today ended up being a baseboard day. And in some ways that was not at all what I had in mind. In other ways I'm glad I decided to get that done so it was one less thing for me to do tomorrow or next week. There will always be a to-do list. The husband will always have a "honey-do" list. There are times to kick back and ignore the chores and then there are baseboard days. Whatever your Saturday brings, I hope you get that sense of accomplishment too!

Menial Tasks Are All Me

Am I the only person who loves being given a specific, albeit menial task, just because you know exactly how it should be done, and why? Maybe I am, but there's a certain sense of accomplishment that comes with it's completion, and I am all for it.

I love a good spreadsheet or "search and find" task. Any form of organization makes me feel useful. Watching the hours pass as I type or enter data makes me feel calm. Maybe that's completely pathetic and lame, but I'm always up for a good mind-numbing to do list. 

I like the kind of work where you can't completely daydream but it also doesn't require complete and utter concentration with full attention. I hate being bored or feeling lazy and useless. I hate having to worry about selling things or selling people on the idea of me selling things to make money. I labor much better under the agreement of you pay me, I do the work and it goes both ways.

I've seen this menial-happiness come and go with my jobs. In my nanny days I always wanted to find fun things for us to do, make play dough, read books, craft, go on adventure walks, watch new kid movies and I always tidied up at the end. I loved having control of all the fun kid plans. With my first retail gig at a medical apparel store, I loved reorganizing the displays and even counting inventory. I liked ordering the different styles and patterns of things and entering things into the system. 

At the one restaurant I worked in, I always liked organizing the cash station so I could be more efficient. But when I worked at Massage Envy there was lots of merchandise to arrange, and we had to situate who went into what room when, which was like a weird version of Tetris. I got really good at it by the time I left. 

Jobs where I don't have those things, I get really anxious and I don't do well, or so now I have discovered. When I worked at HSN overnights from home, the things I liked most, were against the "rules." Like I knew that the little old ladies that called me at 1AM to spend their pension on gaudy jewelry just wanted someone to talk to, I also knew that this would allow them to buy more as the conversation went on, but we were to stick to the script, keep the calls under a certain time barrier and move them along. I didn't get into it.

My other two jobs in between then and now, came with more than a few unpleasant attributes, they may be part of my book someday. But now that I have a legit office job with Alison-friendly tasks, I actually like helping do weird things like taking a country club address book and typing almost 900 lines into excel to make mailing labels for my boss and his wife. It doesn't bother me I just put on some good tunes and go!

Even at home, cleaning and arranging don't bother me because I know the task at hand. And then I earn my lazy TV time later in the day so it's easy checks and balances. I think there is a weird comfort there.

Don't get me wrong, I've never turned down a job, because I've always needed to work to like, pay bills and stuff, but we've all had less-than-awesome jobs. Not every job will use our skills to their fullest advantage. We barely use our own potential and abilities to the fullest. 

I can edit, write and spreadsheet like nobody's business. I learned how to research and collect data with my degree! It's not always easy but it always has results, and there's something in there that gives me gratification and keeps me grounded.

I'm learning that I've become very good at tuning out the chaos. My personal world has been somewhat manic until recently. It's been an emotional train-wreck at times. I've seen and even felt it affect me at jobs, both negatively and positively depending on the circumstances. Sometimes I have weathered it well, and other times it's been pretty destructive, especially when I'm working in a position that doesn't allow me to use my best attributes productively. 

I will help with any menial task. Stapling flyers, printing and filing, organizing and ordering supplies, typing, emailing, and researching, BRING IT ON!

I find comfort in routines and feeling control of the tasks in front of me, and I think this is telling in terms of my circumstances. I've been coming to terms with and processing a lot emotionally lately. What I'm working on most is my acceptance that I can't control the actions of anyone else, but just my reaction to what they put in front of me. I can't force ANY relationship to go the way I want to. Not even a mom friend, not even my relationship with my own child. My dog doesn't even always listen to me! But I can control my acceptance of the things in front off me.

This is a daily reminder and struggle. Constant mantras being muttered and internal sorting out of how to deal with all the feels! Because when I go to bed with my new and epic early bed time routine, I'll sleep better knowing I'm okay with how I reacted or with not getting my perfect idea of something, because I did my data entry like a boss, I released some updates faster today, or I came up with better social media hashtags. Little wins are a big deal and anything menial is mine!

Here's to Monday and I'm headed back to my menial research and spreadsheet action. 

Birthday Hangover and Super Bowl

We survived the big birthday! And I think my daughter has a serious hangover from partying too hard. Today we even had a little more birthday mania with a trip to Build A Bear, excuse me her FIRST trip to Build A Bear courtesy of a friend. Her mind is effectively blown.

Me? My house is a glorious mess and I'm in one of those weird calm states where I know I just can't do too much about it so, bless my mess.

Now we kind of just await the game. Football for me has always been more of a social thing, rather than like, something to watch. In high school girls go to the games to hang out with guys and meet up with their friends and talk. In college you were supposed to support your college team because college football is weird. I went to one game.

For the Super Bowl my reasons are threefold: Junk food, commercials, and halftime show. Sure the game is fun too but let's be real. It used to be beer/food but things have changed a bit in my old age, so here we are.

The birthday hangover has been rough, I'll admit. She's been pretty cranky and sensitive today but with my dad here and a visit to church, she's been a little less crazy. Birthdays are a big deal and she's still reeling from all the fun.

I've tried to explain the Super Bowl to her a few times but I lack any non-lame way of explaining it well, perhaps because to me it's an excuse to gorge on Doritos and laugh at commercials instead of an actual sporting event.

I've always admired real football fans who get into it but the only sport I ever truly got attached to was Tennis and a little of Basketball. Basketball I LOVED to watch in high school. It didn't hurt that 2 of my cousins were basketball stars in our county so I got dragged all over to cheer them on. It was so fun.

Tennis I actually played well and I'm not a sporty person by any imagination. Football was just the thing that happened before the dance and a place to find guys.

So on Super Bowl Sunday while I'm surrounded by family, many things I should be doing and no energy to do them, I'm kind of joining into the Birthday Hangover mode and just chilling out. My daughter is currently bug catching with her dad and I'm listening to my pug howl over my shoulder and some random neighborhood dog he can't even see.

I'm ready for the game and for more family time for sure. Enjoy the game! Drink responsibly and have a great weekend. Thank you all again for your patience as life catches up with me and feel free to email me and comment on requested topics and fun entry ideas!

"I Just Cleaned That!" A Mother's Memoir

Does anyone else feel like this is almost just their constant state? Work, kid care, clean up, tidy up, sleep, repeat? I feel like I'm always cleaning, always need to clean or I totally just cleaned that so how is it filthy already?

In this day and age with technology and limitless resources for things, I still feel like there aren't enough hours in the day. I don't care how "organized" I try to be or how many lists, videos or ideas I pin on my Pinterest, it doesn't make them happen. And also, I spend way longer pinning things to my boards than I have ever spent completing a real Pinterest task. I would assume I'm the only one who does this but they have too many Pinterest fails for me to feel like the sole person who is guilty of this.

This past year, which was mentally just completely defeating for me, I realized how much the tasks of cleaning and grocery shopping were just engulfing all of my weekend to the point where I was just so depressed and tired. Friday nights my daughter had demanded a movie night where she watched a RedBox on our large living room TV and I would clean the house after doing the grocery shopping. It became like a race almost, and this huge challenge. By the end I just lost steam and wanted to curl up in bed. We'd be up until 10 most nights by the time I finished so as to get it all done fast to better enjoy the weekend. 

I tried to plan and budget, budget and plan. It was so much to deal with. And then recently I discovered Wal-Mart Grocery Pick-Up. I know, I know. Wal-Mart is evil and blah blah. Here's the thing, we used to shop exclusively at Winn Dixie but their general product quality dropped. Then we switched to Publix, my favorite supermarket but, I don't care who you are, it's expensive. I tried BOGO shopping at Publix but then I ended up so obsessed with the deals I got carried away and didn't actually meal plan. We had enough Ketchup for a year though! Total score!

Finally I looked at how much we were really spending on the items we went through like no tomorrow in this house: bread, cheese, snack type foods, milk, chicken and ground beef or turkey. These were all just so much cheaper at Wal-Mart unfortunately. And grocery pick up was effortless, you pay online and they load up your trunk. Now, I still go to Publix for all of our lunch meat, our produce and many of their signature items (hello all bakery items), but the Wal-Mart app and pick up are my go to. I especially love that it shows me how much I'm spending so if I'm getting carried away I can be like "Okay that can actually wait a while, I don't need it THIS week."

My husband or I are able to pick up at Wal-Mart whenever and I go to Publix every Friday on my lunch break and am able to keep all the cold stuff in my fridge at work for a few hours. Then I'm not already exhausted and agitated when I get home. This was a game changer honestly. 

I don't care who you are, navigating a store with children is maddening. You forget something on the list. You tell yourself to remember something and forget that too, and then the child talks you into $20 worth of crap you don't even need just to keep them quiet. Or they have to stop and pee and you forget what aisle you're on. Going by myself is like a vacation, yes, I'm that cliche.

And cleaning? If I could afford a house cleaner, I would have one, but currently I can only afford myself and sometimes the help of my husband. This past year I bought myself one of those Robot Vacs as a Christmas present to myself when it was $50 cheaper than I'd been stalking all year. I saw a friend with one and she has 2 dogs and her house was so clean. I was like whoa, did you JUST clean? She showed me this thing and I was sold.

We run that thing daily and not only is the floor less gritty, it cuts my floor cleaning time in HALF each week and picks up all remnants of child and creature. I've also had more help from daughter and husband in terms of tidying up, which makes all the difference because I am always tired, which I may have mentioned in previous posts.

And I hate when you have people over and of course, you've scoured your home in preparation and they're like "I don't know how you do it all!" I know that's meant to be a compliment but I always want to say, "Yeah this is all only because I let you into my house, normally we live like gorillas and there is crap everywhere."

My house is wonderful clutter. School papers, receipts for who knows what, SHARPIES from my husband, the chef's, kitchen, food wrappers from daughter and husband and dog things. Depending on how late and how tired the husband is, clothing often ends up strewn on one or both couches. There are small blankets and random stuffed animals everywhere. My dining room table always doubles as a craft space, paint place, and area to sprawl ALL THE THINGS. We don't even actually eat there very often. Maybe twice a week on a good week.

Keeping up with everything can feel so...unending and laundry truly is the "Neverending Story" of adulthood, but cleaning, working and chores are just a part of life. I often remind my daughter that we are the ones who keep this place clean so don't trash it. Don't just toss something on the floor that could easily go in the trash.  

I think we let these parts of life bog us down. The "have to's" end up burying us alive and it all feels so heavy. I'm not an organized guru, I just caved and found something that worked for what we all wanted and needed. Sometimes schedules get crazy and money gets tight and it adds more stress, but again, par for the course. Everyone has their little luxuries and "treat yo self" moments. Mine are the RoboVac and a cup of $4 coffee each week. Other people have house cleaners or Shipt. I have Wal-Mart pick-up and lunch time Publix runs. 

Every week I still need to clean. Every week we still need food, but navigating the "I just bought that," "I just cleaned that," moments successfully and not stressfully make all the difference. Feel free to email me what works for you!