Gadget Girl!

Well, there goes my bi-weekly blogging goal! I have been procrastinating, sort of, because I am trying to arrange it so that I can blog and post directly from my iTouch.

I am on my computer, so I have not quite reached that goal. But there are a few apps I think are promising. My favorite so far is Glue. It allows you to post on different sites, and you can ad as many feeds as you want. I would use it to post this entry right now, but I have not figured out whether Glue can post images, and I just had to upload this shot of my iTouch. He,he.

I love gadgets. I always try to get the latest and greatest, as long as it catches my attention and I know I can learn how to fully utilize it. But right now I feel that my iTouch will be the last mobile device I will be getting for a long time. That is, unless Apple decides to end its exclusive agreement with a certain company that I will never subscribe to.

We shall see how well Glue does for me. I will do my next post with it.

B.

A nice drive, disposable plates and a cup o' Joe

I knew that there would be things that I would miss once I stopped working. I was not sure how much it would bother me, but I expected some things to bother me more than others. There are things I miss, but they are not what I had expected them to be.

I miss the adult interaction with my co-workers. But I do not miss it as much as I feared. Facebook is wonderful for keeping in touch with friends and acquaintances. It almost makes up for the face-to-face banter. I am not a very social person anyway. There are several at-home moms in my neighborhood with children close to my own in age, so if I need some adult conversation all I need to do is reach out to my neighbors (which I have yet to do), or take a walk over to Mom's. And the best part is, I can use Facebook with one hand while I feed the baby with the other!

I spend much more time in the kitchen than I thought I would. One would think that a dishwasher, a microwave oven and non-stick cookware can help get you in and out of the kitchen in no time. Ha! Cable TV shows also make cooking seem like a snap. Rachel Ray might be able to whip up a meal in 30 minutes but I am sure she doesn't have to clean the pots, the floor and the counters afterwards. And she does not have two kids playing underfoot! I would like to see at least one show where she has to constantly shoo a preschooler out of the kitchen, dodge flying sippy cups, and hold a conversation with a smart-assed high school kid above the noise of a screaming baby while chopping onions. Yeah, that's an episode I would love to see.

I thought I would miss shopping for myself but I don't. Any sort of shopping has now become a chore. I would much rather browse online for things and although I admit I have been tempted to snag a few things, so far it has not been hard to tell myself I don't need it and move on. We'll see how well I can keep my shopping urges down through the holiday season.

All in all, I have been content with my lifestyle change. I have been okay for the most part with the things I have given up. That is not to say I don't miss them. Below are the three things I miss the most:

My commute. Yes, really. I know that probably sounds crazy to most people, but as far as driving to work goes, it did not get much better than mine. It would take me ten minutes to get to work; fifteen if traffic was bad or I caught all the red lights. I drove against rush traffic and there was ample parking in the employee parking lot. But more than the drive, I miss the time I had to myself. Twenty minutes of peaceful time to myself. It doesn't sound like much, and I never thought twice about it. It is one of those things you don't know you have until you don't have it anymore.

Paper plates. True, it is not the most environmentally responsible thing to do, but using paper plates was one of the ways we saved time (and water) back when we were a two income household. We would eat supper at my mother's house, so our main meal at home was breakfast. We had very little time to eat in the morning, and the last thing we wanted to come home to at night was a stack of dirty dishes, so we would stock up on paper plates. Now, paper plates are an unnecessary luxury, but even with a dishwasher it is a pain to keep the dirty dishes from piling up. My dishwasher use has more than tripled since I
stopped working. Considering all the time I spend in the kitchen, any shortcut would be welcome, but the convenience and savings on my water bill does not justify the cost or the wastefulness. So I will reserve the paper plates for certain occasions.

And the thing I miss more than anything else:



A really good cup of coffee. I am not talking about a $3.50 Venti Misto. The best coffee is the cup you make at home- your way! I am talking about a half-cup of freshly ground, dark roast coffee scooped into the coffee maker basket first thing in the morning. Sam's Club's fair trade organic brand is one of the best, but a pound of Dunkin' Donuts whole bean will do. But at 8 to 16 dollars a pound, that too was a casualty of the lifestyle change. Now the morning greets me with whatever I can find on sale (ugh)! Too bad Sam’s Club does not do discount sales on their coffee.

All things considered, I really don't have much to complain about. There are people out there losing their jobs, losing their homes. I am blessed enough to have the means to be home with my children during their preschool years. On the other hand, to say that I am truly content would be fooling myself. But this is a good thing. I hope to someday be able to once again buy whatever coffee I wish. However, for the sake of environmental responsibility, I am going to have to reconsider my preference for paper plates.

A dark, sad time

I haven’t been looking forward to writing about my dad, but I realize it is important to do so for this blog. Even though he was very sick for a long time, he had overcome so many close calls and setbacks that it was still a shock when he finally did pass. My father loved life and did not want to die, even though he was frail and in constant pain. He was a fighter, too, so the way he left us was rather unexpected.

My father had cirrhosis of the liver. When the liver ceases to function properly, the toxins build up in the brain, causing encephalopathy. The way I understand it to be, encephalopathy is the effect of damaged or destroyed brain cells, which causes the afflicted person to lose motor function, causing what is called ‘the shakes’. It is similar to Parkinson’s Disease. The toxins, mainly ammonia that is not filtered out of the bloodstream, also affect lucidity. There is a medicine that works wonders on this. It is a simple chemical, I believe a type of sugar called enulose, that both neutralizes the ammonia in the body and flushes out the body to help remove toxins and things the liver would normally take care of. My father took this for years, but unfortunately the effect slowly diminished.

Once I was home with the little ones my mother was able to focus her attention on my father. The trembling and confusion from the encephalopathy meant that he had to be watched around the clock, so being home at that time was exactly what needed to happen. But I would like to note that I am not the hero here. When my sister realized what was going on she made arrangements with her employer to telecommute so she could help out. He was so happy to see her. My mother was able to run errands and take breaks. And, my sister would be there for as long as she needed to be. As it turned out, it wasn’t all that long.

I knew my father was not going to bounce back this time. But I expected- everyone expected- a long, drawn-out process, with him fighting all the way. I was prepared to face IV feeding, long days at hospitals, bedside vigils as he slid into a coma. What I did not expect was to be visiting my parents one night, trying unsuccessfully to help my dad sit up, and then have my sister knocking on my door early the next morning to tell me that he was on his last breaths. By the time I got to Mom’s house, he was gone. Though he was very sick for a very long time, it was still as shocking and perplexing as if he had been run over by a bus. I still don’t understand why it was so sudden. I only pray that he wasn’t trying to sit up the night before to try to give me a hug or say goodbye.

But even more stunning than my father’s passing was how my dog suddenly got sick. I assumed he was stressed about everything that was going on and disregarded his lack of appetite and vomiting. But the day after the funeral (Easter Sunday) he looked so sick that I took him to the emergency vet, who diagnosed him with renal failure. They kept him overnight but he did not respond to treatment. We had to put him to sleep the next day. I cannot even begin to describe how guilty I still feel for ignoring him. That was four days after my dad passed away.

The following couple of weeks were tough. Thank God for family. They are always there when you need them. Never ever take your family for granted, even if you don’t see them very much. Because when you must get through your darkest hours, they are the ones who will be there to help you through. Thank you everyone for your condolences and warm wishes. They were much needed and welcome.

So one afternoon not long afterwards I am sitting at my computer, with no job, no dog, and no dad. I am going through my e-mail and find a message from the editor of a tiny publishing company I had submitted one of my stories to. It was not a rejection letter. Quite the opposite.

Sometime next year my first novel will be published. It may sound like a happy ending, but it’s not. It is only the beginning, and I have a lot of work to do.

B

Three weeks notice

When I decided to resign, I thought the hard part was over. I discussed it with my husband, who was behind me all the way. I spoke with my bosses, which was a bit tough. There was no epiphany, no celestial sign or straw that broke the camel’s back. Simply put, I was in a situation where I had to decide what would be best for my family, and follow through on what I felt had to be done. It is not an easy thing to do.

People talk about having to leave your ‘comfort zone‘ in order to succeed in life. Well, I know thousands of moms would do anything for the opportunity to have this choice, but unless you are truly miserable at work, believe me when I say that walking away from your job is the ultimate in comfort zone abandonment. My income is gone, my independence is compromised, my identity has shifted. Nope, not comfortable at all.

So, I made my decision, notified everyone who needed to know, and began to prepare. I gave three weeks notice. Three weeks of explaining to everyone why I decided to quit. Three weeks of questions, reactions and comments. Most of my coworkers understood, some did not. The most memorable reaction was the one from my direct report, Emily. I was typing up my notice when she breezes into my office.

“Whatcha doin’?” she asked as she skirted around my desk to see what I was working on. Yes, she is nosy that way, but it never bothered me. I would always tell her to mind her own business if I was handling anything sensitive. It did make it a bit challenging to write her reviews and performance reports.

“Writing my resignation letter,” I replied. She was going to find out sooner or later.

“What? Stop it!” she said. She looked at my monitor and turned a little pale. “You are not kidding!”

“Nope, not kidding,” I told her.

She was a bit shocked and upset. She complained for a few days. She told me, “It was not supposed to work this way. You were supposed to get Andy’s job (my boss) and I was supposed to get your job. This sucks!”

I know how unsettling it is to have a well-liked boss move on with little notice, so I sympathized. All in all, she took it rather well. But don’t feel bad for her. The nosy little goober has my job now. She fully deserves it, though.

So after the last three weeks I was ready to exchange my cluttered office for my cluttered kitchen. I must admit I did get cold feet the last day, and very nearly ran to HR to tell them to forget the whole thing, I would be back on Monday. But I didn’t, and Monday came along with me getting ready to make breakfast for my 3-year-old around the same time I would be looking for a good parking spot at work.

As it turned out, it was the right thing to do at the time. Six weeks later, my Dad passed away.

Me at home- seven months later

Although it has been just over seven months since I resigned from my job, I have yet to get into a set routine. I am not sure why, whether it is the chaos of caring for two small kids, or all the changes that have happened this year, or if I just try to avoid routines, but I figure if I have not settled into a daily pattern by now, I never will.

So, I will stop waiting for the right time to start blogging and just start. My goal is to update this once or twice a week (I will try for biweekly posts, but I am not good with set routines). So for my first shot at a blog, I will begin with a little background about me.

Up until February 2009, I worked full time as an accountant. I have three children, ages 16, 3 and 10 months. The two oldest are boys, and the baby is a girl. My mother retired from her job as a teacher a few years ago and my parents moved into a house up the street from mine to be near their grandsons. Baby Zoie joined the family on Halloween of 2008, and so my story begins.

I must admit that I considered staying home while I was still pregnant. I am sure almost every mother-to-be weighs the option, at the very least. But I had a good job, a 10-minute commute, nice bosses, wonderful co-workers, and Grandma to babysit. And the economic uncertainty made the thought of resigning a foolish move. So, I took as much maternity leave as I could, and went back to work. Life was cool.

Then my father started to get sick. Well, he got sicker. His liver disease caused many ups and downs, and he had been sick before, but it was different this time. I cannot pinpoint what was different, but my mother was under a lot of strain. The baby cried and screamed, the toddler became difficult, and my father slowly got worse. Thank goodness my grandmother was there to help Mom.

Worried about my parents and getting through the day with very little sleep began to affect me. I couldn't concentrate at work. I didn't care about work anymore. I wanted to be home to help. I asked to take leave to help take care of my Dad, but I had used up all of my allowed leave for maternity. So, I made my choice, and here I am, blogging from home seven months later.

In my next post, I will write about how things turned out after I decided to resign. See you then ;-)

B