Thursday, November 29, 2007


A few weeks ago I answered an ad for freelance writers. It's for a retail website that sells baby and child products. The ad said they were looking for a few writers to add content to their site. Part of the ad said, "We realize that many potential customers in our market, new moms, are also interested in part-time work that can be completed at their own speed on their own schedules. If this sounds like you and you have a writing background, please forward your resume and samples of - or links to - your work." Um, hello? ME! ME! Pick ME!

I hate it when I find something that sounds so perfect and it doesn't happen.

I know that if I really start putting myself out there as a freelance writer, I'm going to experience a lot of rejection. A lot. That's fine, I have thick enough skin that I can take it. But I still can't help but be disappointed by this one. I browse ads for writers every couple of days, and unfortunately I didn't see this one until it had been posted for about a week. It's likely that by the time I sent my work to them, they'd already hired the writer or writers they needed. It could be that they got 1,000 responses and mine was at the bottom of the pile. Or it could be that they read over my sample articles and hated them, and promplty deleted my email.

I like to think it's one of the first two.

I feel like I'm a good enough writer to get paid for what I do. Clearly I need to spend a lot more time looking for writing jobs, as much for the experience as for the money. It's tough getting something like this off the ground when I'm busy with two young kids. But I know I can do this. I know I'm good enough to be successful. This is what I do!

I'm bummed because the prospect of being able to write about something as relevant to me as parenting, and actually get paid for it, was enough to make my mouth water. This sounded like such a great gig, and for all I can tell, I didn't get it.

I know this won't be the last disappointment I encounter. I'm ok with that. I just wish this one had come through. But who knows, maybe at some point down the road I'll realize it was a blessing in disguise. Maybe the next great opportunity is right around the corner.

I'll be watching.

Wednesday, November 28, 2007

Feeling trapped

Sometimes it's hard not to feel trapped when you have a young baby. G is 6 months old and breastfed. He sees no use for bottles, therefore I can only be away from him for limited amounts of time. On the one hand, I know how quickly this phase of his life will go. It seems like D's first year went by in the blink of an eye. I know I won't feel so tied to him forever. But on the other hand, it's hard when you're smack in the middle of it.

We have two events coming up that will require us to be out of the house for several hours at least, after the boys are in bed. Usually it's the easiest babysitting job ever; or at least it was when it was just D. He goes to bed easily, and if he does wake up, he doesn't get out of bed (even though he could). Please don't let me jinx myself by saying that! But it's rare that he wakes up, and he's old enough that you can reason with him. You can walk in and say, "Sweetie, it's still bedtime, you need to go back to sleep." And he will. Ok, so it isn't always that easy, but it's so rare that he wakes up anyway, and when he does it's usually easy to comfort him and have him go back to sleep.

Babies are different, obviously. You can't walk into G's room and say, "Sorry kiddo, you just ate three hours ago, there's no way you're hungry right now. Go back to sleep, ok?" (insert insane sounding laughter here)

I shouldn't worry so much over these things, but what can I say, I'm an overthinker. I think about these things until the thought has been run through my brain so many times it must look like overcooked pasta. A soggy, wet, wobbly thought, noddling around in my brain until I feel like I'm crazy.

Of course, my husband says I am crazy.

I just want to be able to leave the house for a few hours in the evening without being on edge and checking my cell phone every three minutes. I know that the rest of my life won't be spent breastfeeding, and too soon I'm going to be missing when he was this cute, chubby baby. But we all need a break now and then and I hate feeling like it's impossible for me to get one.

I guess all I can do is hope for the best and encourage my friends to choose a restaurant that is close to our house.

Saturday, November 24, 2007

Don't people RSVP anymore?

Whatever happened to RSVP'ing?

Tomorrow is G's baptism. I sent out cute invitations with his sweet, smiling face, complete with a request that people RSVP to me, either by phone or email. And yes, I included both phone and email, even though these are all going to people who undoubtedly have both.

I've had a total of two RSVPs, out of about 30 invitations. Both were "no". Lovely.

So I have no clue how many people I should really expect. I may have tons of food leftover; or I may be sending my dad out to the store on the way home from church. I guess we'll see.

It's just annoying that in this day and age, where you can email or text someone at the touch of a button, a simple, "Sure, we'll be there!", or "Sorry, can't make it" would be so difficult. Heck, I'd even settle for a "Y" or "N" sent to my cell phone, if that would help me know how much freaking food to buy!

I expect this kind of thing from my IL's. They aren't exactly known for their adherence to ettiquette. But out of all the rest, only two? A few people did say they weren't coming when I saw them at Thanksgiving (yep, more no's), but that leaves about 20 that I'm unsure of.

I know, there are worse problems to have. I guess I should just hope that a few show up. Poor second kids, don't get near the hooplah. Thursday was G's first Thanksgiving and we took a grand total of zero pictures. But for that one, I blame sleep deprivation.

The next invitation I get, I'm going to be the first to RSVP.

No, really... I will.

Ok, maybe not. But I'll at least respond.

Thursday, November 22, 2007

Momification: Complete.

My momification is now complete. I own a minivan.

Yesterday we traded my cute-and-a-little-sporty Honda CRV for an Odyssey. I'm a little sad to see the CRV go - we didn't have it very long, it was super cute and it fit me pretty well. I'm a fairly small person and so a fairly small SUV was good for me.

However, there was no denying the fact that we simply needed more space. My husband is a not so small person and he wasn't terribly comfortable in the CRV. And with two carseats, there was absolutely no room for anyone but the four of us. Considering the plan at the moment is to turn our family of four into a family of five in a couple of years, the minivan was pretty much inevitable.

We were certainly anti-minivan holdouts for a long time. We researched larger SUVs and station wagons, thinking we could somehow avoid the badge of dorky suburban parenthood that is the minivan. We grudgingly admitted when driving our friend's minivan on vacation a couple years ago that they were rather practical. But still - we just weren't minivan people.

When did that change?

Probably sometime between our metamorphasis from snowboarding/late night movie watching/eating out/mountain biking/spontaneous road tripping people to diaper changing/toy toting/home by 6 for bedtime people.

And honestly, I say that with nothing but happiness.

I had to run to the store last night and as I opened the door to the garage, there was this profound sense of rightness as I gazed at the vehicle parked there. This is the phase of my life where I drive a minivan. This car represents a future full of toting kids around and all the playdates, soccer games, recitals, school carnivals, parent teacher conferences, dinners at McDonald's and trips to the zoo that being a parent entails. I do not forget that this was something that, not too long ago, I had reason to fear I would never have. Now I do.

So yes, I drive a minivan. And rather than going into it kicking and screaming, as I once would have declared I would, I look at my new ride with happiness and, what the heck, a sense of pride. It's my Mom car and I'm happy as hell that I have reason to have one.

Two in fact.

Tuesday, November 13, 2007

Just putting it out there

I've attempted journals over and over. I came to one distinct conclusion long ago; as much as I love paper journals, I'm useless at keeping them. I type so much faster than I can write with a pen; my brain moves too fast for my hand. I get bored and frustrated too quickly and stop writing in them. At least with a computer journal, I can get the thoughts out of my mind as quickly as I need to.

I'm putting this out there for a few reasons, one being that there's an allure to the possibility that random people might actually read my thoughts. Keeping a journal on my computer is nice for me, but unless I actively try to share it, no one else will read it. My life is not so filled with drama that I need a secret diary kept under lock and key. My existence is pretty basic. Diapers. Tantrums. Trips to the Y and the park. I may whine about my husband now and again, but he'll know when I'm doing it, since I'm likely to have been yelling in his direction shortly beforehand.

So here I am, and feeling a little sheepish about posting an "introduction" as my first blog post - especially since I know I'm just another random mom of little kids putting out a blog, thinking what I say might be important to someone. Just one of millions, I suppose.

But that's ok. Mostly I just need the writing practice.