Wednesday, October 7, 2009

Work Today, Gone Tomorrow

Hmm, this was from last wednesday - haven't been keeping up with this yet...

I have a job today. Only today, and only for a few hours, but a job none-the-less.

I'm doing some computer training for a designer I used to work with - same one I did the illustrations for last month. She lives on a houseboat and we're working out there, so it'll be nice. And I get to use my expertise, which also feels nice. So much about unemployment is so demoralizing, so it's nice to feel needed and able to have something to contribute.

This morning, Dane left early, so I got the kids ready and we were able to ride the bike and trailer to school. As soon as I had been laid off, one of my first thoughts was that I would ride the kids to their daycare on the bike. Portland is such a wonderful bike town and there are tons of families at the daycare that take their kids to school on their bike. I planned to do just that.

Well, three months later I was ready. We had to clear room in garage to maneuver the bike with trailer in and out. We had to get the wheels pumped up. I had to get a helmet for Quinn so that Reed could wear Quinn's old helmet. And i needed to learn to hook up and de-hook the trailer and learn to ride with it. So, it took three months.

But it was worth it. On the route to Quinn's school (the boys are in different houses of the same organization - one's for the little guys, 0-3, called "the little house" and the other is more the pre-school for the older ones called "the big house"), I pass by more bikes than cars. And the bikes are in all forms - hardcore cyclists, casual commuters, bikes with trailers, bikes with the "little kid" attachment that piggy-backs onto the regular bike and front carriers and european style ones and the oh-so-portland low-rider, feet-forward ones. It's such a more fulfilling way to take the kids to school - I get to have a fun activity with them first thing in the day.

At first, Reed hated the bike - the helmet at least, and being confined in the trailer - he liked sitting on the bike itself and pretending to ride it. He screamed the first 2 rides, and then he would fuss by the last few blocks to school, now he loves it.

Quinn takes toys along for the ride - today it was a buffalo and triceritops. On the way, he wanted me to tell a story about them. Quinn dictates the terms of the story. I say "Once upon a time there was..." and then Quinn will say what the story will be about..."a buffalo and a triceratops" and then i will give the subject ..."who were great friends - but it wasn't always that way." And I told the story of how the buffalo and triceritops became freinds because they both loved to butt heads. If Quinn doesn't approve of the way the story is going he'll interrupt and say, "No! they got in a fight!" or whatnot, so I don't really have much creative freedom in the stories.

After dropping them off to school, I rode to my local Starbucks and redeemed my "free coffee" coupon. They had taste tests this past weekend for their instant coffee. If you did the test, you got a coupon for a free coffee. So Dane and I stopped in every Starbucks we could find and collected about 15 "free coffee" coupons (one of the times I was happy to see a Starbucks on every corner). Hey, I'm unemployed and need to cut corners. Though when we lost Quinn's freshly-purchased reward whale (a $5 finger puppet of a whale that was promised him if he used the toilet all day), and I needed to buy a new one, I figured it was karma punishing me for taking advantage of Starbucks and giving the money to a local-owned private bookstore (so very robin-hood-esque of karma).

Tuesday, October 6, 2009

Albuminous Scum

The kids are sleeping after they took turns tantruming all morning. Quinn was at the worst of it. He had gotten to bed late and Reed woke him up early (the problem with the boys sharing a room), so that explains it, but doesn't make it any better.

It's a gorgeous spring day today, but I've only been outside in it for maybe 15 minutes. I can't even really explain it, but just the act of taking care of the kids swallows up time like crazy. Between feeding them, cleaning up after them, getting us all dressed, dealing with tantrums, playing, feeding them again, and then cleaning up again - the morning's gone and it's time for nap, and then I'm stuck here indoors.

The biggest factor this morning is that they didn't want out- they wanted to be in. It is perfect autumn weather outside - as bright and sunny as an August day, but cool and crisp and quiet. What I pictured being a stay-at-home mom life to be was to go to the park on a day like this, maybe going in the double-stroller or with them in the bike trailer. And as idyllic as I pictured that, it just takes a lot of coordination and effort to do it. You have to get all the equipment out, make sure everyone is fed and changed before you go (and that you have snacks and diapers for while you're there). And I still haven't mastered watching them both at the park at the same time - each going in separate directions.

Last time I was at the park, and I just came from bashing my shins on the balance beam because i was looking up, following Reed as he ran across the high bridge and trying to get over to Quinn who was climbing up the big slide, and I went SPLAT onto the cedar chips. I saw a mom who had one kid, and he was almost 4, playing in sandbox contentedly and the mom sat there in her beack chair reading. I told her that that is what I pictured going to the park to be like - the kids playing quietly while you sat nearby reading or chatting with friends. For right now, I'm more a matter of trying to keep them (or yourself) from getting seriously injured. Maybe in a couple more years, it'll be easier. I did feel like I accomplished something that day though - before leaving had them both in the swings, coordinated, so i could push one and then the other in perfect rhythm. It was just for a little while, but it was zen-like swinging. And then we went home on the bike and trailer, happy.

This morning, Quinn didn't even want to go to the park, he wanted to stay inside all morning. Wanted to. Finally, Reed made a break for it and went out back on his own and once I told Quinn Reed was playing out back, he finally decided to go. Quinn, of course, refuses to wear clothes when we go outside. I've had to make a rule that if we go out front, he has to wear pants and shoes. Pants because our 6 year old neighbor boy doesn't like it when Quinn's running around naked - it's creepy, he said, and shoes because of the "evil things" - maple tree seed pods have hundreds of tiny transparent stickers that once you get stuck with, take forever to get out. So when Quinn wants to go out, but doesn't want to put his shoes on, he complains, "but, the evil things will get me!" At least the weather getting cooler is making it easier to get clothes on him when he goes outside (I let him go out in just his pants and shoes, but bring the sweatshirt for moments later when he realizes he's cold).

While they sleep, I'm making chicken stock from the carcass of the chicken I cooked last week. I'm not really sure what "albuminous scum" is that I'm supposed to scoop off, and whatever it is, the chicken isn't giving it up. I just figured out the fat is the oil slicks on the top - somehow I thought it was going to come up in while blobs. It's OK, as long as they're asleep, I'll wait for the scum to come.

I think the hardest part of the days home with the kids is just the boredom of it. My first thought this morning was that we'd go to the Children's Museum or OMSI or something fun, just because hanging out at home is getting old. The tantrums killed that idea. I called a friend from the baby group to see if she wanted to come over with her two kids, but didn't hear back (must make those plans ahead of time because I know I'm going to want to hang out with others during the day!). So, instead the morning was feeding and cleaning and looking out the window at the beautiful weather. It's really what they say it is - constantly picking up though the house gets no cleaner and endless laundry. Who wouldn't go nuts doing that all day when you have a brain in your head?

It made me start to think that a full-time job might not be so bad, after all. I had been ruminating over the idea of doing freelance and being able to be part-time and still have the kids a couple days a week. I do cherish that I have this time with them, and that we get to be playmates during the day, but I wonder how long I can do it without just getting too bored?

I went to the bookstore with a friend yesterday and picked up "What Color is Your Parachute?" Despite taking numerous other tests, I'm still hoping that one of them will come up with, "OH, Cathy, THIS is exactly the job that will make you the most fulfilled and it is ..." and give me exactly the one job that would give my life all meaning. Sure, I know it doesn't work like that, but I can still wish for it.

Besides, how many people do you know who genuinely totally love their jobs and their jobs are a perfect fit? I know a handful. The majority of people that I know are OK with their jobs most of the time, but it's not like it was their great calling. The thing with being out of a job, is you go back to ground zero and want it all. Not that it's a bad thing, it's a good place to start - wanting a job that you're passionate about, with people that you love, that makes tons of money and is a good work/life balance. It's just at some point reality will kick in, and it will look like no more unemployment money coming in, and then it's taking whatever you can get, which is still slim pickings at this point.

My friend who went with me to the bookstore, who is unemployed too and thus going to bookstores at 2pm on a Monday, was talking about doing a group where we all do the "parachute" exercises together. That sounds much more fun than doing them on my own.

OK, now i go "network". I am supposed to freelance tomorrow - the person I freelanced for last month wants me to teach her the computer. And I contacted a freelancer I used to hire a lot to get some inside tips on what the freelancing world is like and how you do it successfully.

And when they wake up, like it or not, they are going outside and we'll take a bike ride.

Friday, October 2, 2009

Rubbing the Chicken

I feel that one of the primary responsibilities now that I'm a "housewife" is that I have dinner ready. Thing is, I don't know how to cook. I don't particularly like to cook. And, I feel I have to cook from scratch - or, at least close to it.

I do feel this is a valid responsibility. It's better for the family. The boys (I have a 3 year old and a 17 month old) are always ready to eat when they get home at 5:30pm.

We decided to keep the boys in daycare 3 days a week. That would give them 2 days to be home with me (and allow us to save $500/month) and 3 days open for me to look for work. The problem with looking for work is that I don't quite know what I want to do with my life. I happened upon my last job - well, my last career in graphic design / management. I don't want to stumble into my next career. I want it to be intentional. I'm nearly 40 and it's time to figure out what I want to do with my life and do it.

Today was one of the days the boys were in daycare. I spent the first 2 hours of the day checking out craigslist and the like looking at jobs. It wasn't pleasant. Then my husband and I went back to the cabinet maker for about the 5th time to change our order (our house flooded in May and we are just getting around to nearly making a commitment on what we want to replace what we had). On my way home I popped into Trader Joe's, spontaneously picked up a whole chicken and decided I would roast the bugger.

I thought being responsible for dinner would be straight-forward. After all, it's just dinner. We ate dinner when I was working. But when I was working, everything I cooked came next-to ready-made from Trader Joe's - barbeque chicken, orange chicken, frozen fish, etc. We'd stock up on Sunday and whoever got home first would throw together dinner from whatever we grabbed from the freezer.

Well, like everything so far about being a housewife, having dinner ready is more complicated than I expected. The first thing is that you have to have recipes. You have to have a "menu" of what you're going to make during the week, planned for it, shopped for the ingredients, etc. Being new at this, I am doing this day-by-day rather than planning the week (which is my goal for the future). In the morning (or, more often, at 3pm) I'll think about what we should have for dinner, look in the fridge and figure out what to make.

So, I've started reading my husband's cooking magazines. Bust most of the "quick" recipes don't work for me. They're often fish, which is OK, just a little foreign to me on how to cook most fish. Or they're just not something I would like.

Ages ago I asked my stay-at-home mom friends what they cook. One mentioned roast chicken, which was my favorite dinner as a kid.

What I realize now is that i don't need "quick" recipes, I need "easy" recipes. It's OK if it has to cook for 2 hours, I'll be around. Just make it simple.

And it was simple enough. Except for rubbing the butter on the chicken - it just slides off. And it's much more intimate an experience than I care to have with a chicken - massaging butter all over it's body. Oh, and the giblet bag thingee kind of exploded while I was trying to get it out. I pulled and coaxed, but it wouldn't come out. Finally, the little baggie tore and the innards oozed out and i was able to birth the bag from the chicken. Especially as an 10-year vegetarian, not pleasant. I've only been recarnivorous for 5 years or so and the more carnal foods - lobster, meat on bones, etc., still disturb me.

But it felt good to have a roast chicken ready when all the boys got home. Quinn helped me make the gravy, which i didn't realize had to be cooked but then we cooked it. And he poured in the left over chicken stock into it when i had my back turned, and then the extra flour, and really Dane ended up fixing it, but it was almost there.

Then when eating dinner, i was worried I'd undercooked the bird. I tested the temperature, which it said to test at the thigh - so i tested the drumstick and it was fine. Dane told me the drumstick isn't the thigh. I'm not great on chicken anatomy, but I still can't figure out why the drumstick wouldn't be the thigh - if it's not the thigh, what is it? The Shin? Does't make sense. But no one got sick.

So for a real easy dinner (not quick, but easy), here's what I used:
http://find.myrecipes.com/recipes/recipefinder.dyn?action=displayRecipe&recipe_id=1654627

How To Be A Housewife

In May I was laid off after being at the same company for 12 years. In that 12 years I went from being single and living on my own to being married with 2 kids. Last time I was unemployed I was single, paid rent, but that was the extent of my obligations. Now that I'm unemployed, I have to be the "housewife" - a role I've never coveted, and one that I'm not naturally good at - while I'm looking for my next career.

Thing is, I'm determined to be good at whatever I do. And, if it's my lot to be a housewife, even for a little while, I want to be good at it. I do think it will make me a better mom, a better wife, and just more organized in general. I wanted to write about it knowing that there are a lot of people out there who are going through the same work transitions.

Here's what I came across on the internet on How To Be A Good Housewife from a 1954 Home Economics Text Book:

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HOW TO BE A GOOD WIFE
Home Economics High School Text Book, 1954


Have dinner ready. Plan ahead, even the night before, to have a delicious meal, on time. This is a way of letting him know that you have been thinking about him and are concerned about his needs. Most men are hungry when they come home and the prospect of a good meal are part of the warm welcome needed.

Prepare yourself. Take 15 minutes to rest so that you'll be refreshed when he arrives. Touch up your makeup, put a ribbon in your hair and be fresh-looking. He has just been with a lot of work-weary people. Be a little gay and a little more interesting. His boring day may need a lift.

Clear away the clutter. Make one last trip through the main part of the home just before your husband arrives, gather up schoolbooks, toys, paper, etc. Then run a dust cloth over the tables. Your husband will feel he has reached a haven of rest and order, and it will give you a lift, too.

Prepare the children. Take a few minutes to wash the children's hands and faces (if they are small), comb their hair, and if necessary change their clothes. They are little treasures and he would like to see them playing the part.

Minimize all noise. At the time of his arrival, eliminate all noise of the washer, dryer, dishwasher, or vacuum. Try to encourage the children to be quiet. Be happy to see him. Greet him with a warm smile and be glad he is home.

Some don'ts: Don't greet him with problems or complaints. Don't complain if he is late for dinner. Count this as minor compared with what he might have gone through that day. Make him comfortable. Have him lean back in a comfortable chair or suggest he lie down in the bedroom. Have a cool or warm drink ready for him. Arrange his pillow and offer to take off his shoes. Speak in a low, soft, soothing and pleasant voice. Allow him to relax and unwind.

Listen to him. You may have a dozen things to tell him, but the moment of his arrival is not the time. Let him talk first.

Make the evening his. Never complain if he does not take you out to dinner or to other places of entertainment. Instead, try to understand his world of strain and pressure, his need to be home and relax.

The Goal: Try to make your home a place of peace and order where your husband can renew himself in body and spirit.
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Yeah - so, that's not going to happen. Welcome to 2009. This is not going to be my experience. My goal is to come up with a new definition of what it means to be a housewife in this decade, as equal partners, gender-neutral. We'll see how it goes.