As a full-time working mother, I could put in 40 hours, cook
semi-regular meals, commute an average of two hours a day, talk to friends
regularly, exercise every morning, and have a relatively OCD-like immaculate
house (not including the Tween's room).
As a corporate cast-off who is now home 24/7, I can boast of serving
dinner more often but that's about it.
My living room looks like a Lego factory exploded. The family room has a cardboard
box-turned-hideout sitting in the center of it -- completed with debris
generated by the Tween still littered around it. My Pinterest boards are exploding with
brilliant ideas for "someday."
I haven't talked to most of my friends since exchanging the drive on the
parkway for the walk to the laptop.
The 5:30 AM exercise
routine shifted to 8 AM ... 11 AM ... 1 PM ... tomorrow, I promise.
When I heard that unemployment was looming back in December 2012, I
began to make plans with the Husband and prepare the Tween. Since we'd already put our plan to "recession-proof"
ourselves in motion two years ago when the Husband was hired after his second
lay off, we were in good shape. We paid off a few credit cards, I began couponing with sincerity, and every expense was analyzed. My project manager, AB, came through with a long-term writing gig, and with the support of my guys, I was able to jump on it. Between that and adjuncting, life is pretty good.
I would like to say that I shall spend free my time blogging something brilliant about being a Gen-X mom raising a member of the iGeneration. I'd love to tell stories about the life of a 40+ mom who can say "been there, done that, bought the t-shirt" as she deals with a tween on the cusp of turning into a hormone with feet.
My life with the Tween generally consists of the following themes:
* Clean up your room before it's declared a bio-hazard.
* You do not need to throw those jeans in the laundry. You only wore them for an hour.
* The dishwasher is not going to unload itself. (Alternate theme: The cat does not have oposable thumbs to operate a can opener and feed herself. She's counting on you to keep her from starving.)
* What do you mean you're still hungry? You've been eating for the last hour.
I promised myself that, as part of my daily writing regimen, I would begin to blog once more. How this whole stay-at-home/work-from-home is going to pan out is beyond me. But isn't that how most adventures begin?
I would like to say that I shall spend free my time blogging something brilliant about being a Gen-X mom raising a member of the iGeneration. I'd love to tell stories about the life of a 40+ mom who can say "been there, done that, bought the t-shirt" as she deals with a tween on the cusp of turning into a hormone with feet.
My life with the Tween generally consists of the following themes:
* Clean up your room before it's declared a bio-hazard.
* You do not need to throw those jeans in the laundry. You only wore them for an hour.
* The dishwasher is not going to unload itself. (Alternate theme: The cat does not have oposable thumbs to operate a can opener and feed herself. She's counting on you to keep her from starving.)
* What do you mean you're still hungry? You've been eating for the last hour.
I promised myself that, as part of my daily writing regimen, I would begin to blog once more. How this whole stay-at-home/work-from-home is going to pan out is beyond me. But isn't that how most adventures begin?
