Starting a New Job

I'm starting a new job sometime in August! After several months of feeling overwhelmed and disorganized and lots of prayer, I have decided to pursue a new job!

This job will be difficult. It will require endless daytime and nighttime hours and even overtime on weekends. Many things will be asked of me and I will have to continually learn new things everyday. Some days I'll get to do medicinal work, sometimes I will be a chef.  I will have to do maintenance and cleaning. I've been told that I am expected to teach. I will have to account for finances and work within a budget. I will have to oversee the whole operation.

This job will be the best. There is time set aside during the day for naps and playing. Imagination is encouraged and creativity shall know no boundaries. In this job I am encouraged to seek inspiration from outside sources. I can do this job in the home or away from the home, maybe even at a park. Exercising during work hours is encouraged. Casual attire is welcomed. I will get rewarded daily with smiles and hugs. I will get to make my own schedule.

But the main reason this job is the best, is that I will get to be with my children everyday that I work. I have decided to quit my current job and my new job is a full-time stay at home momma. I truly had the best part-time job working for my father-in-law but after having Gus my days in the office went from 3 to 2 and most weeks I couldn't even manage that. I constantly felt like I was missing things at work and this created stress. I felt guilty that my co-workers were having to pick up my slack. And at the same time I felt disorganized at home. I felt as though I couldn't devote my full attention to our household and our children. I was lacking balance and something had to give. I am filled with joy that Dave has blessed me with the honor of staying home with our children. I am nervous that this is the most intense position I will ever be given and the childhood of my children will be directly affected by how well I perform. I will turn to God and pray for grace. I will admit my faults and ask for forgiveness. I will cry, I will rejoice. I will be strong and stand firm in my beliefs and reasoning. I will not be perfect. I will try my best. This is the career I've chosen and I really want to knock this one out of the park.

Boyfriend in a Box

I wasn't prepared for the feelings of nostalgia that having my own children would create. Watching Rivers, I feel closer to my childhood than I have in years. It's like memories and feelings from my youth are stored in little glass jars and every now and then the lid gets popped off one and the vapor of the memory drifts across my nose and drags my senses back to the early 90's. Some of these memories make me cringe. They aren't negative or sad, they are....well they are nerdy. They are embarrassingly nerdy. I feel a lot of endearment towards the nerdy little girl that I was and at the same time I am still slightly embarrassed by her and the things she did.

Tonight, I am going back to 12 years old. It was the last week of summer before school was to start and like every year, my mother, aunt and family friend had loaded up the cars with children and taken us to Pismo Beach for the week. The trip always looked very similar. Days at the beach, afternoons at the pool, dinners at McClintocks and Brad's and at least once a trip to the Pismo Beach Outlets. My cousin Katharine and our friend Angie, all of us the same age, were always the most interested in the Claire's store that resided in the corner. I can't recall if it was a Claire's outlet but it was always so disorganized and contained the most random assortment of goods that I am going to assume it was. It was like searching for treasure. It was better than sticking your hand in the leather saddlebag at McClintocks and wondering what you would pull out. On this fateful day, my on the cusp of teenage-hood self, found something that I should have not even looked twice at. I should have walked right past it. Ok, maybe I could have looked at it and laughed and then set it back thinking - who would be such a fool to buy that? But it didn't happen like that. Instead, I picked it up and was immediately enamored. What could it have been you ask? Well, a little internet research and presto I present to you Boyfriend in A Box. Even without the picture of the back of the box listing the other "irresistible teens" to choose from, I could have told you I picked Skater Skye. I still remember his name. I also remember that his mother's occupation was a tattoo artist. I remember being teased by my cousin and friend for purchasing this, but it didn't matter to me. I also remember carrying the wallet sized-photo of "Skye" around in my quicksilver wallet for well over a year. I vaguely recall pulling it out a time or two and saying it was a picture of a guy I had met at Pismo that summer before but I can't be certain. Can we just take a minute or two to talk about a few things here?

1.) On the front this clearly states this is: The Teen Edition. Was there an adult version? A child version? A baby version?
2.) There was an Owner's Manual included. I desperately wish I could recall what that entailed. Directions on how to lie to your friends? Best ways to stage a breakup so you can attract a real boyfriend in real life?
3.) Warranty. I don't even know what to say about this. Could I return it if my friends called my bluff? What if the picture of him ripped from me carrying it around too much - would they send me a new one?

I find comfort in the fact that this product was created at all. Comfort in knowing I was probably not the only prepubescent girl to be enamored with the do-it-yourself boyfriend kit. If there was me, there was likely someone else. Unless this particular Claire's really was an outlet full of discarded and never purchased items, and in that case I really am alone. Alone on my embarrassing Boyfriend in A Box island.

On My Mind: Daniel and the Squirrel

Image found on Google Images: This is NOT Helen Keller

When I was living in LA and going to FIDM, I had a job working for a clothing company called Kritik. It was a pretty exciting job as the company was really taking off and there were only 7 employees to man the fort. We were getting big but not quite big enough to justify hiring more help so there was always plenty of work to be done. We operated out of a house in Beverly Hills and our storage room for all our past season clothes was the guest house out back. Despite all our best efforts it never failed that the storage room became disorganized and our computer inventory was never quite accurate when compared to what sat on the shelves. As a result, we turned to outside help. Someone found a "professional organizer" on Craigslist and a week later he started. His name was Daniel and every time I was around him I couldn't stop thinking about Ernest Saves Christmas. He was definitely eclectic, eccentric and he may have even lived out of his car but he worked hard. One day Daniel showed up a teeny bit late with a really big story. He found this squirrel: a baby squirrel. And he was able to confirm that the baby squirrels' mother had died. So he did what any good Samaritan would do and put the baby in his car. He put the squirrel in his car to live until she was old enough to fend for herself. Remember how I mentioned that Daniel might have lived in his car? Well he did live in his car and therefore spent his nights with a rambunctious baby squirrel hopping all over his face and seats, doing heaven knows what else. Have you noticed how fast squirrels really move? He would show up to work with scratches as evidence of her handiwork. He named her Helen Keller. I would sit at my desk on the second floor and look out the window at a spastic squirrel literally flying from one part of the car to the other and I would think to myself.....no one could write this. That image is forever ingrained in my memory and I laugh every time I think of it. I know that Helen Keller was eventually released because I remember the tears streaming down Daniel's face when he told us of their departure but every time I see a squirrel (which is 20 times a day here) I find myself often wondering what happened to Daniel. If you live in the LA area and happen to find a "professional organizer" on Craigslist named Daniel: hire him. I'm positive you will walk away with a wonderful story of your own.

A Pillow for a Chair

The black and white striped armchair in my sewing room needs a pillow, but I'm afraid the story needs a little more back information than that.

We purchased a model home. We were newly wedded, freshly pregnant and suddenly we needed more space than our current two bedroom home afforded. We searched, we sampled, we argued, we agreed and we moved in to what is now our current home. The best part: it's a former model home. The even better part: we bought it furnished. For a meager amount over the price of the house they threw in the furniture with it and in we moved to play house. It was so surreal the first few days. I felt as though I was living in a hotel but a very odd hotel at that. There were place settings on the table with dishes and a folded napkin which looked quite lovely and inviting. But upon closer inspection it became apparent that the plate was glued to the place mat along with the silverware. In to the trash it went. There were decorative piles of books all hardbound and lovely in appearance but they were bonded by sealant to one another. In to the trash they went. There was a 25 pound 3 foot tall rooster on the kitchen table, in to the.....no I think we still have him somewhere. There were beautiful silk drapes in many of the rooms but the rings by which they should have moved were glued to the curtain rod and so they served no real purpose. In fact, they were stapled to the walls in some areas. Down they came. (Does anyone want large yardage of ivory silk dupioni?)The refrigerator was real. Thank goodness. The plastic computer and television were not. Thankfully we didn't expect them to be real. The towels hanging on racks throughout the bathrooms were clamped with an industrial steel that has proved so difficult to remove they still remain on the racks in the bathrooms. Don't use them if you come over. The house was a jungle; we later gathered every artificial fern, tree, palm and bush that had been placed throughout the house and with no exaggeration the total was 65. The decorative jars were lovely but the tops were....take a guess: sealed to their bottom base. I get the reasoning. I can only imagine what people would find funny when touring a model home. I can only imagine what happened in our house before it became ours. It makes me laugh to think I'd walked through that house years before it became ours. I distinctly remember turning to my mother in the master bedroom and saying "Yep, I could definitely live in this room." And now I litter it with my belongings every single day. So the pillow that currently parks its arse in my black and white armchair (which is so much my favorite chair that some might be lead to believe I purchased the house just for the chair) is just a pillow. The silk is faded, the tassels are breaking apart and leaving their hairs throughout my house, which is strange because the pillow does not get moved. This chair demands A PILLOW. And I've been scouring Etsy for the perfect vintage embroidered pillow and after weeks this is what I want:

Are you still with me? I cannot explain it. I have made the conscious decision to decorate my home with things that make me smile and this pillow is that. While I really do love the colors and the flowers, I really laugh hard at the unicorn in its mystical pen. While 99% of me is sold the 1% of me has its reservations and they are as follows:

1. What is the lettering above the unicorns head? Is it witchcraftery? Dungeons and dragons? Games of Thrones?
2. Is this a recognizable image that medieval fanatics will know and as a result deduce that I know? I assure you I do not know.
3. Is my taste, which is dominated by things that make me smile, really just bad taste?
4. Is a smile really worth the $47 it would cost? Especially in light of the fact that the other pillows I am considering are much less expensive?

Writing this out is really therapeutic for me and has brought me to the great realization that bullet point #3 is the truth. And I must be crazy because even this realization is making me smile.

Tell me...

Why does cold water taste disgusting when drank from a coffee cup?

On my Mind: Stuffed Animals in the Road

Fair warning: this post may be a little dark.

You see, I have this terrible habit whenever I drive. It is very odd, a little perverse and never fails to make me extremely sad....and yet I cannot stop. I am always scanning across the lanes and sides of the roads for roadkill. I'm so embarrassed to admit that but it is a real problem. It seems as though the amount of stray dogs and cats has increased tenfold in light of our economic troubles and it never fails that I see something everyday while driving. There was a loose dog near our neighborhood that I tried for weeks to catch. A cute little black and white pug looking thing who was terribly skittish and managed to evade me every time. And others too. I would often see cars pulled over on the side of the road trying to get him but he always made a mad dash under a chain link fence and that was that. I was driving to work one morning and from a mile away, I could see and I knew. I knew that this sweet little dog had met his unfortunate end. I called Dave immediately crying hysterically. I should have saved this dog. It was my fault. I could have been the one to save his life. This is how I feel everytime. I have this irrational belief that I could have somehow prevented these tragic events and it causes me great distress that sticks with me longer than it really should.

I was driving downtown one morning and I spotted it quickly. In the middle of the road, tan and little. As traffic caused me to slow I could make out the object more accurately and I realized it was a stuffed toy dog. I was surprised that I didn't feel relief but the same recurrent sadness I feel everytime.

I have too long personified stuffed animals. When I was 9, it took me 45 minutes to pick out which Winnie the Pooh on the shelf I was walking home with because I didn't want to hurt the others' feelings. I ultimately chose the one with the wonky eye because I figured he would be the first to get discarded by others. To this day when I visit my mother's house I have to walk in to the guest bedroom and give a hello kiss and a paw rub to my childhood teddy bear Gummie. Every time. And I can't stop myself from cringing when Rivers carelessly throws her stuffed animals on the floor face down. I always walk right over, give them a pat and sit them up properly.

So when I saw this little stuffed dog dirty, matted and laying so alone in the middle of the road I felt my heart sink. I imagined some little boy holding Whiskers (look I'm naming him - this is a seriously problem people!) out the window letting him feel the wind in his fur. Although Whiskers remained stoic and managed to keep his tongue from flying out to taste the fresh air, I could almost hear his thoughts at what a great time this was and then whooooosh. Out the window he goes. Tommy (oh brother) cried for little Whiskers but mom was in too big of a hurry to flip her Yukon around and there really wasn't even a light for half a mile where you could make a u-turn. I wonder if Tommy sees Whiskers every morning when he drives past. He can't, right? Tommy would surely demand that mom pull the car over and let him run to rescue Whiskers from the dirty asphalt. I'm about crazy enough to do it myself. Poor little Whiskers. How long will he have to lie so alone? I can't take much more. It's making me too sad.