Boom

Years ago I had this epiphany in the women's bathroom of the law firm where I was working.  I do my best thinking in bathrooms, don't you?  I always used to talk to myself in the bathroom as a kid. Probably because it was the only place I could be alone in a tiny house with six people.  Getting back to the major moment, it was February 2006 and I was miserable.  I hated my job, my living situation, my completely dysfunctional relationship with my boyfriend and, essentially, my life.

For the previous four months, I had spent most of my day either fighting with my boyfriend or sobbing about fighting with my boyfriend.  He had moved away for graduate school and we were trying to make a long-distance, cross-continental romance work.  For various reasons, not the least of which was that he wanted to revel in his freedom while knowing that I would be there waiting for him when he needed me, it was definitely not working.  Unfortunately, every time I tried to break up with him he would promise to change.  We had an awful co-dependency that was killing me. Once I finally cut the cord, I felt like a balloon, floating freely up and up.   I immediately knew that was one of the best          decisions I would ever make.

Yet I still had the other issues in my life-the job, the apartment- that I knew were within my control. So, the epiphany that struck me as I stared at the beige stall trying not to pee too loudly was that I only have one life.  I was the only one who could make it not suck.  Sheer genius, I know.  But, somewhere along in the previous couple of years, I had lost sight of this obvious point.  I really had spent far too much time waiting for the "what ifs" or "whens" rather than just enjoy my life as it was or change it as needed.  If I always believed that things were going to be better at another point, there was no need to really focus on the present.  It was like someone smacked me in the head with a giant "THE FUTURE IS NOW" stamp.   

Fast forward six months and I was living in a new place, with a brand new job, in a new field.  The day after I started my new job I (re)met my future husband (technically we'd met once before but whatever).  It's amazing how much you can change once you decide that things need to change.

I'm starting to feel that same energy shift now.  While I'm not sobbing all day and talking to myself in bathrooms (sadly, this is no longer a solo activity), I don't feel as happy as I imagined I would while not working and playing with my kid all day.  It's hard.  Harder than I thought it would be.  I miss being me and don't like always being mommy (mom-me).  A change is coming.   Not a radical one, mind you.  Perhaps a 25-40% change in the status quo.  Once I figure out what that means, I'm going to get right on it.

Mamas and money

pic via Jezebel

I came across this article yesterday and found it fascinating and frightening.  While there are some slight differences in the European mentality with respect to materialism/spending/savings, it really resonated with me.  Given that I haven't been working for the past year and a half, I do find myself spending less and less on shopping excursions that are solely for my benefit.  I wish the same were true about my Whole Foods adventures.  Back when I had my own salary, I wouldn't think twice about popping into a store on my lunch hour just to pick up something pretty.  Now, whenever I do that, I hem and haw and often feel guilty about it.  It's not that I think my husband will judge me or even begrudge my spending, I just don't always want him to know what I consider (or used to consider) to be "necessary."  Granted, I probably derive more than a healthy modicum of satisfaction from looking at all the clothes/bags/shoes in my closet, but I least I know that I worked hard for my money and chose to spend it how I wanted. 

Deep down, I know that the work I am doing now, teaching my son to touch gennnnntly, keeping my floors relatively uncrunchy, washing my husbands thousand pairs of socks, is important and valuable.  Yet, I miss the paycheck.  Lately I have been more seriously thinking about finding some consistent form of employment, be it part-time or consulting.  In addition to the mental stimulation, I am simply excited to earn more than my babysitter!  I started working when I was ten years old as a mother's helper and always had an income, through college and law school.  For a while I joked with the mister that I would take a certain amount of money out of our joint account every month and put it into my personal one, as compensation for services rendered.

Beyond the lack of income, there are deeper issues at play.  I'm no longer in charge of the finances and neither are many of the women I know.  When I was younger and running my household of one, I knew the details of every bank account, credit card, 401K in my name, down to the last dollar.  Now I am relatively clueless about what's happening in our portfolio day to day.  Though I still think of myself as a (mostly) smart, capable woman, I suppose I just find it easier to be ignorant and leave it to my husband.  Just as the author notes, some of my closest friends, lawyers and businesswomen alike are content to let their husbands run all the household money.  Isn't this how women end up broke and homeless when their husband finds a hotter, less nagging second wife?  Or when their husbands have been investing money into failing businesses?  Of course, that's not happening with my husband, right?

It seems like such a cliche and still it's sad but true for so many women who are completely dependent on their spouses, especially those of us who aren't earning a salary.  I'm resolving to start being more aware of what's happening with our money, not just for my sake but for my son's as well.  And, also, to maybe stop nagging.

This Is The Time To Remember

I just got off the phone with my 96-year-old grandma. She was telling me how she hurt herself today. Swimming. She overswam the backstroke and now her back was screaming at her. She was thinking that she probably should skip the gym tomorrow so she could get back to swimming over the weekend. Are you kidding me? She is amazing. I wish I could bottle her energy. Not to be outdone, my husband's 94-year-old grandma, who had BRAIN surgery a few weeks ago is now up and at 'em. Florida's water must be the true fountain of youth.

Earlier today I heard from an old friend with whom I hadn't spoken in months. I love those random chat moments on gmail. Sometimes the internet is a heavenly place. Amidst our playing catch up, this friend asked me how I liked staying at home with my son. I lived with her back in the years that I worked as a big firm lawyer in NY. Work hard, play hard to the extreme. I'm pretty much the polar opposite of that now. Aside from my initial identity crisis at about 3 or 4 months postpartum, I have mostly loved being a SAHM and enjoying my son's fleeting babyhood. It is so very much more exhausting and more thrilling than I could have imagined. Though I still have a little trouble responding to people's questions about when I am going back to work, that's primarily because I have no idea. I will be doing some temporary, part-time work this summer for my old office, which should give me a sense of life as a working mama. I'm most excited about the thought of getting dressed before noon and having dinner waiting for me when I get home--that's the way it works, no?

Mr. Monk's playgroup went to the California Academy of Sciences today. It is a glorious place filled with neon fish, sea dragons and an albino aligator. Needless to say, the babes squealed with delight pretty much the entire time. Here is mine trying to become one with the fish universe.


Definitely a day to hold onto.

And "Footloose" is on tv now. Does life get any better?