Diving Into the Job Pool

Looking for a job is probably one of the most depressing activities a human being can engage in. It's sort of like cleaning up after children or watching a movie with Kevin Costner in it. (Is it just me or does his acting just keep getting worse & worse?) It makes you want to give up hope. Add to that the fact that I never finished getting my degree and I may very well need to be able to support my family with said job AND the fact that I was somehow unable to make a go of owning my own business which has been a dream of mine for a very long time and...well, I'm getting even more depressed just thinking about it.

The resume in and of itself is just an exercise in misery. If you ever want to feel like you have spent the last 20 years of your working life engaged in fruitful endeavors, I do not recommend writing a resume. The very practice of condensing all of your accomplishments, skills, abilities, and intelligence into a one page document meant to get the attention of a prospective employer...does the word disheartening mean anything to you? Especially when it is not recommended that you use the phrases "freaking fabulous" or "smarter than most people you have ever dreamed of meeting."

And don't even get me started on the interview process. (Not that I've gotten any of those yet. I blame it on the fact that I can't use the word fabulous on my resume.) Just thinking about some of the interviews I have been subjected to in my job-search experiences makes me want to crawl in a hole and die. (Unfortunately I have yet to find the person or company who will pay me a living wage to crawl in a hole and die.) If you have ever wondered if there are interviewers who actually ask you what color crayon you would be and why, I can tell you that yes, yes there are. (Is fabulous considered a color?) I have also been subjected to a weeks-long interview process with an entire panel of people only to secure a job watering plants and running mail to the post office. True story. I've also been hit on, intimidated, and asked impossible questions. Am I more a hunter or a gatherer?? Um, I'm a grocery store shopper. And I actually don't even enjoy that.

Alas, I digress. The purpose of this post was to cheer myself up, not to become so dejected that I just give up and run off to join the circus. (Who am I kidding, though? I am neither bearded, flexible, or red-nosed enough for the circus. I don't think even they would want me.) At any rate, over the past couple weeks as I have been actively involved in the job search process, I have been thinking of about some of the jobs that as a young girl I thought I might have when I "grew-up." I thought it might be fun to revisit some of those imagined job prospects and why they didn't work out.

#1: Super-Model
As a preteen and teenager I was pretty much obsessed with super models. Linda Evangelista, Cindy Crawford, Christy Turlington, Claudia Shiffer, Helena Christensen. They were my heroines. I followed their illustrious careers. I looked at every picture I could find. (Which made for a lot of magazine buying & clipping since Google & Pinterest weren't really invented yet.) I loved them all. And what girl didn't dream of being the new Guess girl? I was convinced that I was just in my awkward high school (middle school, elementary school) phase and I would outgrow it in my adulthood. Just imagine the looks on all of those boy's-who-never-asked-me-out faces when I was gracing the pages of Vogue, Elle, and/or Seventeen (I wasn't picky.) Well, as it turns out you not only have to be incredibly photogenic to be a model (which I am truly not), you also have to be impossibly tall. How was I to know that at a whopping 5'4" I was already completely full grown? You mean people don't usually hit a 5 inch growth spurt in their early 20s?? Sigh. Oh well, NEXT.
#2: Witch/Advertising Executive
In my younger years, I was also obsessed with a little syndicated TV show called Bewitched (Also, Mr. Ed, although I never wanted to be a talking horse.) I would have loved the opportunity to be an impeccably dressed, beautiful SAHW (Stay-at-Home-Witch.) Entertaining my husband's boss and co-workers with fantastic dinner parties using the good china? Raising my darling little paranormal daughter Tabitha? Endless magical shenanigans with Endora and Dr. Bombay?? Yes please! However, much like my graceful beauty and height, I also never grew into my supernatural spell-casting powers. Bummer. That's ok, though. I'm flexible. When I realized I would never be the SAHW that I dreamed of I simply switched career aspirations to Darrin Stephens' occupation: Awesome Advertising Guy. Coming up with idea boards and slogans for new products? Fun! I could totally do that! (I even once composed a little Haagen-Dazs ditty for the holidays set to the tune of Oh Christmas Tree in preparation for the day that I would be the awesome advertising guy that Darrin Stephens was.) Admittedly, as a husband he was goofy as heck, but Darrin always managed to come up with those last minute marketing ideas that would knock the socks off Larry Tate. I thought I could totally do that. And possibly I could have. Unfortunately, as I got older I realized that the advertising business wasn't all glitz and glamour. And they don't really have people who just sit around thinking up cool slogans. And really it's all just about manipulating people into spending money that they often don't have to spend. OK, fine. Maybe not that either.
#3: Pediatrician
I attribute this career goal to the fact that I really loved my pediatrician. And she was a woman. I thought that was really cool. I actually told my high school counselor upon entering high school that I thought I might be a pediatrician. As it turns out, you have to go to a LOT of school to be any kind of doctor. And you have to get good grades in high school in order to get into the kind of schools that you want to go to as a medical student (which means not ditching to go to the beach or the outlet mall every other day.) And you have to have an aptitude for science. And you have to not mind blood and vomit and assorted other bodily fluids. So, yeah, maybe that one just wasn't destined to work out for me. It sounded good at the time.

That is a mere sampling of the occupations I once thought I might have. There was also Airline Stewardess (free travel!), Inventor (I'm not really sure what I planned on inventing, but something spectacular for sure), School Bus Driver (the kind that gave candy out to all the kids every Friday so they would love me), Fashion Buyer (those who can't model, shop), Weather Girl (before I realized you also have to be beautiful and tall to be on the news and that the actual word is meteorologist) and Rockette (again with the height & flexibility requirements, sheesh!)  I never really dreamed of being a front desk receptionist, a sandwich artist, a customer service representative, or an alarm dispatcher. And while such a random sampling of jobs doesn't make for a super cohesive resume, all of the jobs that I have had have given me countless life experiences and helped me to meet some of the best friends I have. And now it's back to the drawing board. Looking for a job. Again. Wish me luck. And interviewers who don't ask me what color I am.

The Story of My Life

I promised more rewritten One Direction. I'm sure you've been waiting with bated breath, so here it is. Many of you were lucky enough never to have heard the Midnight Memories song on which I based my Mid-Life Crisis Hair, but if you have not yet heard this one, well I'm very jealous. (And please tell me where you live and so I can move there.)

The Story of a Mom's Life. Just in time for summer. Oh you know, that time of year when we have to have sunshine because we cannot possibly deal with both snow AND children being home all day. (There's a word for that time of year, it's called Christmas Break and you know as well as I do that if it lasted longer than 2 weeks there are very few of us who could survive it.) 

In the interest of full disclosure, my kids are getting a little bit older so many of our current day battles are less about bedtime and more about ... well, I have 3 girls. I'm not sure what they are about. Neither are they. I just know there's a lot of crying. And pouting. And screaming. And more crying. However, in my last 18 years as a mother I can say with total candor that all of these things are issues I have dealt with. Frequently. If not issues I am currently dealing with (Yes, my fridge does actually stink...or maybe it's the freezer. Or the garbage disposal. Don't judge.)

At any rate, I hope you enjoy my re-written Story of My Life. I hope it lets you know that you're not the only one locking themselves in the bathroom to enjoy a candy bar alone like it's crack. And I hope it makes you laugh. Because without laughter, let's just say that the life of a parent would be less...well, um, livable.

The Story of My Life

Written on these walls is the crayon that I can't erase

Leave the bathroom door open; they're gonna come in anyway

Wake up in the morning and the dishes are still sitting in the sink

Better clean the fridge out...the lettuce is starting to stink

And I'll be up late tonight

The kids won't go to bed without a fight

Demanding drinks of water, a book, a nightlight

With no breaks in between

The story of my life

Now can you guess

Which movie's on? Did you say yes?

That's right...it's Fro-o-o-zen

The story of my life

I'm losing hope

They spend my cash

Until I'm broke

(It's true)

The story of my life

Overflowing in the baskets is laundry that I can't fold

You're lucky I washed it, now put it away like you're told!

I'll wake up in the morning just to do the whole thing over again

Dreaming of the day that I can sleep in until 10.

  

And I'll be hiding out somewhere

I've only got one Coke left; don't wanna share

Go ahead keep getting toys out; I just don't care

Cuz nothing's ever clean

The story of my life

Now can you guess

Which soundtrack's on? Did you say yes?

That's right...it's Fro-o-o-zen

The story of my life

No time alone

Especially when 

I'm on the phone

(It's true)

The story of my life

And I'll be waiting for the day you get along

Cuz something tells me that my patience is not that strong

The story of my life

Now can you guess

Which movie I wish I'd seen 50 times less?

That's right...it's Fro-o-o-zen

The story of my life

Go right ahead

Wear stripes with plaid

My will is dead

(It's true)

The story of my life

The story of my life

The story of my life (the story of, the story of)

The story of my life

To My #1 Fan.

To my beautiful daughter on her graduation day,

I cannot believe this day is actually here. I tried my best to keep it from coming, but it came anyway. Faster than I thought was possible. What words can I say to the girl I grew up with? I can barely remember a life without you in it. From the moment that I first looked into your beautiful face, my world was changed forever. And then you went and did it. You grew up. Far too quickly for my liking. (Well, except for that time between ages like 13 & 14 when we didn't like each other at all for close to a straight year. That could not have gone quickly enough.) I feel like I'm not really ready to let you go just yet. Truth be told, I may never be. I can't really imagine my life without you. Oh, I know that I will always be your mom and we will always be a big part of each other's lives. But I also know that you are going to go off and make your own life. A life where I am merely supporting character and no longer your co-star. It's going to be a very different movie;. I'm not sure I can do it without you.

From the beginning, we had quite the co-dependent relationship. Those first years, you looked to me for food and comfort and safety and I , in turn, desperately clung to you for the peace and joy and warmth you brought to me. You were the first to teach me about pure happiness and unconditional love. You needed me. And you have no idea how much I needed you. You have taught me so much in the time that I have been your mother. I only hope that I have taught you even half as much. You have always been brilliant and funny and absolutely beautiful and it has been the most amazing thing in the world to be your mom. I adore you more than I could ever say and I could not be prouder of the young woman you have become.

I could go on forever talking about how much you mean to me, but I wish now just to leave you with three things that I hope you already know, but it never hurts to be reminded of.

#1: Be Strong
You, my love, already possess such an inner strength. You always have. You have dealt with a lot in your short life. It pains me to say it, but you will deal with much more before it's through. Be strong. The world will try to crush you at times. People will be cruel. Life will give you days that you don't feel like you can possibly get through. You can. I promise. It might take some reaching sometimes, but the strength to get through it is there. Some of your trials will make you stronger. Some will make you question your faith and your ability to withstand it. You will get through them all. And you will thrive. When you are feeling weakest, have the strength to ask for help. We are a prideful couple of people, you and I, but sometimes the best way to show strength is by allowing others to lift and support you.

#2: Be Kind
You are one of the most compassionate and thoughtful people I have ever known. You have the ability to see when someone needs something, and the gentleness to lend a helping hand. Every person you meet has seen suffering in their lifetime. Some people become kinder and more generous because of what they have been through. Some people become bitter and angry and mean. Treat them all with compassion. The ones who seem to deserve it least are often the ones who need it most. I can promise you that you will never regret the choice to treat others with respect and love.  It will sometimes be difficult to be kind, but it will always be worth it.

#3: Look Up
I know there are those who do not believe in a higher power. But I know for myself that I have someone I can turn to when I can't do it by myself. So do you. Someone who knew you even before I did. Someone who knows you and cherishes you as one of His own. Look to Him always. Faith will get you through when you cannot find it in you anymore to be kind, or to be strong, or to take one more step forward. He knows you. He loves you. You are never alone. Look up.

I love you, Fantasia. I loved you from the second you became mine. I love you more every day. You are beautiful. You are capable. You are amazing. And you are mine. Forever mine.

All my Love,
 Mom

Optimism: It's What's for Dinner

It has now been a week since my husband unexpectedly lost his job. I can't say that it's been a great week. There have definitely been both ups and downs. Moments where I feel peace and moments where all I want to do is redeem my Get Out of Nightmare Free card. But gloominess and self-pity have never been my strong suits. So I have taken to thinking about how it could be worse. Because it could definitely always be worse. And then I decided to compose 5 reasons why having an unemployed husband is not the worst thing that could have happened. In an attempt to be the glass half full kind of gal. Cuz who wants a half empty glass??

Reason #1: I could have an unemployed husband AND not have bought these shoes.
Admit it. That was a narrowly averted tragedy. I ordered these shoes on Monday and found out Tuesday night that LaVerl had lost his job. It could have been so much worse. Could you imagine if I had found out just one or two days earlier?? I never would have been able to justify buying not just one, but two pairs of gladiator wedges (I also bought them in black; I am nothing if not practical.) The ramifications are more than I can fathom. I had been searching far and wide for shoes such as these for months. That's right, months. So we may not have any source of income right now, but my feet...my feet at least are very happy. And pretty.

Reason #2: I could have an unemployed husband AND funny-looking kids.
I know, it's one of the most un-politically incorrect things I could say. I shouldn't be saying it. I need all the good karma I can get. But that doesn't make it untrue. Don't get me wrong. I do not take any of the credit for my gorgeous kids. We have all seen cases where beautiful people make some really funny looking kids and vice versa. And beauty, of course, is only skin deep. But my kids are also pretty amazing. They are funny and smart and resilient and kind (not to me or each other mind you, but generally speaking) and even the youngest of them understands the slight nuances of sarcasm. Lincoln, at the tender age of 4, just said to me the other day, "Your mom is too windy to play outside." That, my friends was a very proud yo mamma moment for me. Just thinking about it brings tears of pride to my eyes. My kids are awesome. I can't imagine how sad I would be if they weren't.

Reason #3: I could have an unemployed husband AND not have Netflix.
I should be cutting expenses right now. Anywhere and everywhere that I can. But I just can't make myself get rid of my $8 a month Netflix account. I. Cannot. Do it. Netflix has gotten me through some pretty rough times in the past, and this last week has been no different. Parks & Recreation. Arrested Development. Mad Men. Random documentaries on volcanoes and the Titanic. Where would I be without Netflix? In a very dark, very dreary and very humorless place. That's for sure.

Reason #4: I could have an unemployed husband AND live in a place where it snows 6" on Mother's Day.
Oh wait. It did?? I do?!? Oh, ok. Scratch that one then. I guess I could live somewhere where it snows...well, more than that. In fact, on May 4 of 1812, it snowed 12 inches in Keene, New Hampshire. It could be worse, I could live in Keene, New Hampshire...200 years ago. And then I also would have not had central heat. Or running hot water. Or great boots. And I would have had to wear a dress and probably a pettiskirt. All day long. No fleece jammie pants. That would definitely be worse. Far worse.

Reason #5: I could have an unemployed husband AND not have awesomely supportive family & friends.
Aw, I went and did it. I got serious. And mushy. It's true though. I have the best people in my life. The. Best. People. I've been showered with love and concern and support often from people and places I didn't even expect it. Those of you who know me know that I am fiercely independent. Fiercely. Sometimes (often...ok, almost always) to a fault. I would rather do just about anything than admit to my own weakness or need for help. It's true though. I am weak. And I need help. (See what I did right there?) And I have received it in droves. I love you. And appreciate you all more than I can say.

Being the Mom

With the advent of Mother's Day earlier this week, I have been reflecting a lot lately on what it means to be a mom and what I enjoy about it. Some days, I have to tell you, the answer is a simple "not much." I know, I know, it's terrible, but there are those days (weeks, months...) where being called Mom seems like the rudest, most offensive name I can be called. It carries with it such need, such demand and such urgency. Sometimes it just sounds like a horrible accusation. Like being the mom means that I am to blame for all that is wrong in the world. And also I am responsible for fixing it.

It is during those times that I can lose track of just how magical and wonderful it is to be a mom. So I thought I would try to capture in words those moments when being a mom is truly a miracle.

Moment #1: The Middle of the Night Wake-Up Call
I know, right?? That does not sound like it would be first on the list of things that are great about being a mom. Whether it is for thirst, a nightmare, a fever, or heaven forbid a total vomit-fest, being woken up in the night is never my favorite thing when it happens. I am not that soft-voiced, understanding mom who gently leads her children back to bed with a comforting kiss. I wish I was. I am usually more like a poked bear. A raging, maniacal poked bear. At best, I stomp and murmur and fix whatever is wrong so that I can get the heck back to sleep. At worst, well, let's just say...it can be much, much worse. 

My 10 year old just woke me at about 3 in the morning a few days ago complaining that her ear was hurting. (Earlier that night, right about at bedtime, it was her right hip that was bothering her.) I was pretty well less than patient the first time she woke me and I sent her back to bed with a heating pad. The second time, probably a half hour later, I found some ear drops that we had and put those in for her before sending her back to bed. Again, not super patiently. 
In my 18 years as Mom I have been dragged out of bed countless times for myriad reasons, either real or imagined. In all these years, I have probably received an equal if not lesser amount of full uninterrupted night's sleeps as not. But the one thing that all of those sleep-jarring events have in common is that in the night, a child has awoken and the one person in the world they wanted was me. The one person that they trust wholly and completely to comfort their fears, to fix their ills, to er...clean up their puke, to make everything right is me. Their mom. I am that one. To 4 little people in this world, I am that one. And that is pretty special.

Moment #2: The Hand-Hold
Most of you who have small children, or who remember when their children were small will recognize exactly this moment. You are walking along, in the store, on a sidewalk, at the park, wherever it may be, and your child falls behind. It's just a few steps. You can hear them behind you. They are close and you know that they are safe. You're not at all worried and you maybe only glance back once or twice just to make sure all is well. At some point, you hear them coming just a little bit closer and you hold your hand out behind you. You don't look back, and you don't say a word. Maybe a few seconds passes, maybe it's as long as a minute, but at some point that tiny little hand grabs onto yours and that child comes up to walk beside you. It is one of my favorite moments of all time. The absolute trust you have that they will see your hand and grab onto it. The knowing for them that your hand will be there for them to hold. 

From that very first grasp when they wrap their tiny fingers around yours as a new infant to the forced you-will-hold-my-hand-whether-you-want-to-or-not in a crowded place where you don't want to lose them, to the sweaty nervous hand hold when you go to register them for school, or take them to tour a college campus, there is something very special about that hand hold. It brings measureless comfort to you both. And that is pretty amazing.

Moment #3: They Love Me Anyway
If you haven't figured out by now that I am far from being the perfect mom, well, you can always just ask my kids. They'd be happy to tell you. I make more mistakes than any mom should rationally be allowed to make. I've been making them for 18 years, and I have no doubt that I will continue to make them for many more. Probably forever. I've been called the worst mom ever more times than I can count. I've been screamed at, ridiculed, kicked, and bit. I've even received very articulate letters about the poor job I am doing as a mom. (Very. Articulate.) 

The crazy thing? These very same small humans who scream at me, kick me, bite me, write me letters, and tell me I'm the Worst Mom EVER, love me more than anyone in the world. They know me. They know my every flaw, every imperfection. They have seen me in my darkest hours, at my physical and my emotional worst. And they still love me. And cherish me. And trust me. They know exactly who I am. And they love me anyway. And that is pretty miraculous.