Archive for October, 2006



04
Oct

Work It, Mama

All mamas work.  Let’s get that qualification completely out of the way.  Some work for money, some work for chits, pennies in heaven, for the good of the children.. fill in the blank.  Me, I work for money and I work for my kids.  I have two bosses now — actually four if you count all 3 daughters and the new boss man –but unlike Crystal Gale’s 70s lament: "Torn Between Two Lovers", this is a perfect set-up for a chick like me.

I get to enter the World of the Adult Brain, specifically the world of nonprofit financial management, for exactly 19 hours per week.  And then I get to come back into the World of the Child Brain/ aka: the World of Mommy’s Addled Brain/ aka: the World of Peanut Butter, Oatmeal, and Big Blue Eyes a’cryin’, with a belly-laugh thrown in for good measure — usually theirs, not mine — for the remaining  149 hours. 

It’s a good hearty complicated life… well, technically, it’s been a good hearty complicated life for two whole days, so I’m sure IT (LIFE) will have tons of fun devolving and evolving into many other things over the next 3 months of my contract.  But it has many boxes (literally & figuratively) and I like it that way.

And this (this mood, this strange moment listening to the twins wrestle my husband who is playing the favorite game of tired parents everywhere ‘ Log in the River’ — all you do is lay on the ground and act like a log while the kids climb on your back) is the closest a non-Buddhist / uncentered/ totally unzen girl like me comes to being content.

This is my life on contentment.  And it ain’t half-bad.

03
Oct

Pretty Work People

After suffering through several sleepless nights waiting to see whether my last boss(es) would give me a good reference, I received a job offer last week.  I’ll be doing financial analysis at a local nonprofit (the one with the men) half-time.  It’s a temporary gig through the end of the year and if it turns into another pile of bad soulness, I can leave.

Today is my first day.

Having been through a relatively traumatic recent job experience/ job loss (what the hell do I call it anyway?), I’m less confident and sure than I’ve ever been.  There’s only so much positive self-talk one can engage in while preparing toast for preschoolers:

"It’s ok, you’ll be fine —-PEANUT BUTTER? – It’s just spreadsheets –STOP! MOMMY HASN’T HAD HER COFFEE -- The hair isn’t that bad, they won’t notice — LISTEN! JUST SIT & EAT & STOP HITTING YOUR SISTER!--spreadsheets are fun – BECAUSE I SAID SO!"

Maybe I’ll walk in and see all the nice pretty work people and the angels of balancing spreadsheets and sassy sister friends will smile down upon me and all will be well… Maybe.

Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.



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