Single Motherhood Haunts Me

It's like a ghost, lurking around the corner. Alan will be working overtime, all the time, soon. Since his promotion, he will work even longer hours. Both he and I are getting nervous.

We divide the chores. I do most of the straightening. I put things where they belong. I track the grocery list. I clean out the frig. I decide when to pull out the winter hats and where to put them for the winter. He cleans. He does the dished and most of the laundry.

Then budget season hits. And it's all he can do to spend his rare free time with Ander.

We've decided to hire someone, at least ocassionally, to clean the house. Also, I am lining up sitters for those days when I can't get off of work on time, and daddy cannot be backup.

But I am still nervous. My business is doing well, if I can just be there to get stuff done. Which means balancing almost single motherhood, for a couple of months, with running a business. Scary.

Boo!

Etcetera.

Sitting At PJ's In LaPlace

...having a tall skinny mocha with whipped, enjoying wearing a sweater, and getting ready for a meeting (in 15 minutes). Post-meeting, I plan to return to PJ's and busting through the pile of work that I need to complete this week. I get so much more done at coffeeshops than I do in the office. I think the difference is that I still have my staff right at hand (via IM, cell, and email), but they aren't just right there, so I can't gossip or hang out instead of being on tasks. Sometimes, though, you have to break and gossip. It's just that in the office, it's easy to get sucked into a conversation. Out of the office, that rarely happens.

The other problem at the office is the constant phone calls. When I am out of the office, the calls go to my e-mail. I pre-prepare the answers, and then return calls all at once. It's so much more economical, timewise, but I hate to not be there for my clients if I am in the office. Somehow, it seems okay outside of the office, as long as I return calls quickly.

The real advantage, though, is the smell of coffee and the casual atmosphere of the coffee shop. I am happy here, so work doesn't feel like work. I really need to sneak out to a coffee shop more often, but I feel guilty when I leave Ander. That's silly really, since I am leaving him with his dad, and at home, his dad would usually be the one taking care of him anyway during coffee shop hours.

Well, I am off to my meeting.

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Up At 8 a.m.

Yep, 8 a.m. That's pretty late for me - or for anyone, I suppose. Ander has suddenly started sleeping until I wake him up. Whatever time that happens to be. It is lovely.

I had a disaster at work last week. My printer went out. We tried to fix it, and that knocked out internet access. Oh, and Alan accidently knocked out internet at home. It was horrible. I really needed to do work, since I took vacation the week before. But I really couldn't, because we just didn't have the tools.

It's all fixed, but sometimes it is still hard to catch-up because my public defender job requires work at random times, and yesterday, the first day the whole system was working again, some public defender work came up.

Etcetera.

Today Sucked

It sucked in that way that only the day right after vacation can suck. The computer network fell apart - no printer or internet until late afternoon and only after spending lunch with my dad fixing it. Oh, and $50 and more work to be done.

No time for lunch. Dinner eaten while driving home. Started raining halfway through the new outdoor Monday night Strollerfit class.

But my wonderful office manager gave me a cool Boss's Day gift. Who know it was even Boss's Day tomorrow? So I have a new personalized workout bag, and a blank notebook.

A blank notebook...

I could do a thousand things with it. List all my complaints so I don't say them out loud. Journal. Note important stuff. Start my novel. Start writing my nonfiction book.

It's beautiful, with a perfect little clasp. I almost don't want to use it, because it's cool just to have it! So suggestions, please. What should I use it for?

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The Life I Secretly Want

I was watching Gossip Girls on tv. Yep, I watch Gossip Girls. And yes, I record it if I'm going to be out. And yes, I probably like it more than Grey's Anatomy (which is in no way a slight to Grey's, a truly awesome hour).

I want to be the poor kids on Gossip Girls. I want to live in their apartment and go the places they go and wear the things they wear. You know, if I am ever forced to be a teenager again. :/

But why not the rich kids? I don't want their lives. They look boring and stuffy. And I've always sort of been like that. (The opposite of my hubby, I might add.)

Money meant little to me as I grew up, and still means little, as long as I had the minimum I needed to pay meals and buy the ocassional cup of coffee. Having just gone on vacation, which cost quite a bit even when we budgeted, I understand that having a little money makes things easier, but it's time that I want rather than things. And money can only buy so much time.

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Crazy Person Magnets

That's what Alan and I are - crazy people magnets.

Today's crazy person gave us a speech about the importance of education while we were stuck riding on the trolley. And if we don't pay for Ander's education...but, and this is key - absolutely nothing else - Ander will grow up to kill us for life insurance proceeds. And after the decently dressed guy finished telling us that fascinating nugget of wisdom, he got off the trolley at the homeless shelter.

I guess the running shorts and t-shirts and ponytail and hats hid the sign that said we are overeducated.

Etcetera.