I got 'the call' a little while ago. This is a call that no matter how many times I receive it (and so far, I have gotten it three times prior to today in almost 5 years), I will never be ready to accept it. Yes, loyal readers, I am sure you can surmise by now that I received a call from my husband telling me that, come October 31st, he will be out of a job again, due to budget cuts. The first time he called me to relay the 'happy' news, it was a glorious, sunny day...a Tuesday, if you must know...with the most beautifu, deep blue sky. I must admit I had been having a great day as well until I was blind-sided by the terrible news. Interestingly, there seems to be a causal relationship between the weather and this type of call for us as each subsequent time my husband relayed the end of yet another term of employment, the day was bright and sunny and today is no different.
There is, however, a big difference in my reactions. The first time I was completely shocked and terrified but yet I possessed a strange and unusual optimism that perhaps he could find a new job quickly and we would rebound, possibly even with a better job. Ha! Twenty-months later (!!!), when he landed this fabulous position in exactly the place I wanted to be living, I figured we had paid our dues and we were being rewarded for our diligence and faith. Then, on that exquisite day in April, when I got the call saying that after only 5 weeks of employment, we were again without a job (and that our hope of moving back home had been shot to hell as well), I was less optimistic that this whole finding a new job thing was going to work in our favor. Flash forward nine months to the next position with a very solid company and I thought we had survived the worst time of our lives. Wrong! Apparently, the worst time was yet to come as eight months later...surprise...the holidays are coming and we are unemployed yet again. Clearly, the powers that be are not finished with us as 5 months later, the new position has now led us to crash and burn yet again...on a beautiful, sunny day, that had been going pretty well for me until 'the call'...just before the holidays.
So, by now you should be wondering what this blog is all about beyond me just venting about our lot in life. Sadly, I must say that right now, the post is what it is. I am frustrated and angry, tired of trying to be optimistic when we are trapped in a seemingly never-ending cycle of get job--lose job--spend months searching for new job--get 'the call'--start all over again. Even as I re-read this post, our story sounds positively unbelievable. If I saw a movie with this plot, I would hate it because it seems unreal, almost comedic. Too bad it is not. Too bad it is our life.
Once bitten, twice shy. Four times bitten, bitter in perpetuity.
Friday, October 10, 2014
Saturday, September 6, 2014
Baloney
It has been exactly one week since we dropped my oldest son at college and I have some observations that I would like to share with you. Please note that the following are in no particular order.
1. It stinks! No, really. I was told over and over again that I would get used to it, maybe even learn to enjoy having to buy less food, do less laundry and focus more on my other children. Hooey! News flash, my food bill this week was the same as last week, I am a complete laundry fanatic so less is definitely not more in my book and as for the other children? I have had multiple friends tell me that I am the only person they know who has four children, but who treats them each as though they were only children. They always get plenty of attention, trust me.
2. Time may be my friend ( a lovely acquaintance told me that once), but while I have come to accept this new normal, I will never, ever like it.
3. College life disrupts the familial dynamic. For instance, 'college boy' and I have a very close relationship but, apparently, it is not as close as I had thought when we are on the phone. All of a sudden, my chatty son, with whom I have engaged in sparkling conversation while in high school, has now become a monosyllabic wonder. He does call me per our 'communication plan' that everyone told me we needed to have before he left ('give him some control,' 'don't overwhelm him with having to call home all the time'...yeah yeah yeah), but it is like pulling teeth to get him to communicate during the calls. I am seeing a pattern, however, that I think is part of his master plan. He calls thus fulfilling his end of the deal, he talks about what he wants to, I ask a question, he suddenly becomes too busy to continue the conversation and hangs up. I did get a couple of calls about doing the wash this morning that were quite interactive, however. Yay!
4. No matter how many books I read on the subject nor how many internet articles I digested, nothing could have prepared me for how abruptly I went from knowing so much about my son and his life to (a mere one week later) him having a life of his own. Some days I simply cannot get my brain around that. He is off at school making friends I have not yet met, taking classes I know little about and seeing and doing things about which I had no input. Some might say that this was seventeen years in the making but to me, it seems like only yesterday he had my neck in a vice grip during music class when the instructor took out a puppet to show the class. Yup, terrified of the puppet. Surely he was scared for life.
This is certainly a learning experience for us both, but I know he got the better end of the deal. He is off starting his own independent life with new experiences, challenges and rewards. While I am here in our old life, only without him as a part of our day to day, missing him like crazy and hoping that he remembers to continue to call home for more than just advice about his laundry.
1. It stinks! No, really. I was told over and over again that I would get used to it, maybe even learn to enjoy having to buy less food, do less laundry and focus more on my other children. Hooey! News flash, my food bill this week was the same as last week, I am a complete laundry fanatic so less is definitely not more in my book and as for the other children? I have had multiple friends tell me that I am the only person they know who has four children, but who treats them each as though they were only children. They always get plenty of attention, trust me.
2. Time may be my friend ( a lovely acquaintance told me that once), but while I have come to accept this new normal, I will never, ever like it.
3. College life disrupts the familial dynamic. For instance, 'college boy' and I have a very close relationship but, apparently, it is not as close as I had thought when we are on the phone. All of a sudden, my chatty son, with whom I have engaged in sparkling conversation while in high school, has now become a monosyllabic wonder. He does call me per our 'communication plan' that everyone told me we needed to have before he left ('give him some control,' 'don't overwhelm him with having to call home all the time'...yeah yeah yeah), but it is like pulling teeth to get him to communicate during the calls. I am seeing a pattern, however, that I think is part of his master plan. He calls thus fulfilling his end of the deal, he talks about what he wants to, I ask a question, he suddenly becomes too busy to continue the conversation and hangs up. I did get a couple of calls about doing the wash this morning that were quite interactive, however. Yay!
4. No matter how many books I read on the subject nor how many internet articles I digested, nothing could have prepared me for how abruptly I went from knowing so much about my son and his life to (a mere one week later) him having a life of his own. Some days I simply cannot get my brain around that. He is off at school making friends I have not yet met, taking classes I know little about and seeing and doing things about which I had no input. Some might say that this was seventeen years in the making but to me, it seems like only yesterday he had my neck in a vice grip during music class when the instructor took out a puppet to show the class. Yup, terrified of the puppet. Surely he was scared for life.
This is certainly a learning experience for us both, but I know he got the better end of the deal. He is off starting his own independent life with new experiences, challenges and rewards. While I am here in our old life, only without him as a part of our day to day, missing him like crazy and hoping that he remembers to continue to call home for more than just advice about his laundry.
Sunday, August 31, 2014
Disoriented
I must admit that I have been debating as to whether or not to write this post for a few days for reasons ranging from this being a very sensitive topic for me to not really wanting to put my 'feelings out there' because it is a topic so close to my heart. I also know that while there is a wide range of emotions possible concerning this topic, at least in my neck of the woods, I am somewhat of a lone wolf. All that said, I have been receiving such encouragement from friends to blog about this that I decided to tell it like it is. Before proceeding, please remember that just because we may not share the same viewpoint on this topic, dear readers, we are each entitled to that viewpoint or feeling. Remember what your mom told you about if you don't have anything nice to say...okay?
We dropped my oldest off at college yesterday morning and I am taking it hard, very, very hard. I feel such a profound sense of loss in our home and a weird, almost other-wordly, anxiety. I think my husband said it best when he reminded me that all the other events we had done with our children included adding to our family. This is the first time that we are subtracting from it and it is painful. I had worked myself up into a beautiful frenzy all last week in anticipation of the big departure. I did not miss 'one last' with my son (even though I tried to keep my mind from going there, my other children never missed an opportunity to remind me) from the last meal I would prepare for him as a transitional child--not a higher schooler anymore/not yet in college--to the last walk he took with Phoebe, our dog, and everything in between. We all know how obsessive I can be, right? Well, I found out I had new talents in that area as well. Yay me! I have spoken to quite a few of my friends who dropped their boys off a week earlier and who are still having trouble going into their sons' rooms or falling apart at random times during the day. I can only imagine how long it will take me to even be close to having a day without tears.
The issue is not that he will be unhappy or that I am worried about him at college (okay, maybe a little). The issue is all mine, the loss of his childhood, the feeling of having run out of time. He is there having the time of his life, the start of his independence with new friends, perhaps a girlfriend, interesting classes and activities. The sky is the limit. I am here in the same home we shared grappling with memories and feeling selfish about wanting to share the next chapter of his life as I have done every chapter before. It is a new feeling and one that I am not comfortable with as yet. One friend told me that she cried for two weeks straight after dropping her daughter off at college while another told me that it took her sister an entire year to become totally comfortable with dropping her son off at school. One of my oldest friends ended up in therapy as a result of her boys leaving a year apart. The empty nest is a prickly place sometimes. Thank heaven I still have three more little birds in mine. My youngest knows that where ever he goes to college, we are going with him! he had better choose a great school in an even greater climate.
I just got off the phone with my freshman and he sounds very good, a little off kilter, but that is to be expected during this transitional time. Growing up is hard on everyone, perhaps on this mom most of all.
We dropped my oldest off at college yesterday morning and I am taking it hard, very, very hard. I feel such a profound sense of loss in our home and a weird, almost other-wordly, anxiety. I think my husband said it best when he reminded me that all the other events we had done with our children included adding to our family. This is the first time that we are subtracting from it and it is painful. I had worked myself up into a beautiful frenzy all last week in anticipation of the big departure. I did not miss 'one last' with my son (even though I tried to keep my mind from going there, my other children never missed an opportunity to remind me) from the last meal I would prepare for him as a transitional child--not a higher schooler anymore/not yet in college--to the last walk he took with Phoebe, our dog, and everything in between. We all know how obsessive I can be, right? Well, I found out I had new talents in that area as well. Yay me! I have spoken to quite a few of my friends who dropped their boys off a week earlier and who are still having trouble going into their sons' rooms or falling apart at random times during the day. I can only imagine how long it will take me to even be close to having a day without tears.
The issue is not that he will be unhappy or that I am worried about him at college (okay, maybe a little). The issue is all mine, the loss of his childhood, the feeling of having run out of time. He is there having the time of his life, the start of his independence with new friends, perhaps a girlfriend, interesting classes and activities. The sky is the limit. I am here in the same home we shared grappling with memories and feeling selfish about wanting to share the next chapter of his life as I have done every chapter before. It is a new feeling and one that I am not comfortable with as yet. One friend told me that she cried for two weeks straight after dropping her daughter off at college while another told me that it took her sister an entire year to become totally comfortable with dropping her son off at school. One of my oldest friends ended up in therapy as a result of her boys leaving a year apart. The empty nest is a prickly place sometimes. Thank heaven I still have three more little birds in mine. My youngest knows that where ever he goes to college, we are going with him! he had better choose a great school in an even greater climate.
I just got off the phone with my freshman and he sounds very good, a little off kilter, but that is to be expected during this transitional time. Growing up is hard on everyone, perhaps on this mom most of all.
Saturday, July 19, 2014
Memory Hoarder
I realized something about myself while I was deflating a "Congratulations, Grad" balloon to put into my son's graduation memory book--yes, his party was in June but we have been testing the Party City claim that their balloons last a long time and they do. I am a memory hoarder. I cannot let go of one single, seemingly inconsequential picture, craft or event that pertains to my children. While I am certainly not suggesting that my son's graduation from high school was a mere blip on our radar screen, I seem to hold all things child-related with the same amount of intensity and a fervent need to hold the memory as a keepsake. For instance, I am certainly an anomaly amongst my friends when it comes to photo albums for my children as each of my children have a large number of albums with photos placed in chronological order, labeled with with the event and any anecdotical comments I may have had at the moment. I have never missed an event from birthday to classroom party...times four. Each and every memento brought home is either saved or photographed to be saved...times four. Interestingly or perhaps scarily, I can remember in vivid detail the situation or event surrounding the picture as well and those key dates that I am fearful of forgetting are written down in memory books...you got it, times four.
Braces on? I can tell you the date it happened. Taken off? Got that, too. From first haircut (with first cut locks saved, of course) to permit test, I have it documented in each child's book. I have been laughed at and mocked because, honestly, who in their right mind will care about the exact date that my youngest slept through the night, but I am terrified that I might. I simply need to remember these things to keep the memories safe.
This summer has been incredibly bittersweet for me because while I am happy to sharing this time with my children, my focus is on summer's end and my son heading off to college. Memories have taken over my thoughts and this enormous change in my family has me thinking about all the firsts he had taken and the firsts yet to come and the inevitable sadness that I feel that those new firsts will not be documented by me. Yes, I am fully aware that some of those firsts should not be documented at all.
One of my closest friends told me that while this will be a difficult summer because of the obvious countdown to his departure, once he goes, the focus will be on the countdown to his return and the new memories we will make. All I know is that I will be there happily documenting those times, memory hoarder that I am.
Braces on? I can tell you the date it happened. Taken off? Got that, too. From first haircut (with first cut locks saved, of course) to permit test, I have it documented in each child's book. I have been laughed at and mocked because, honestly, who in their right mind will care about the exact date that my youngest slept through the night, but I am terrified that I might. I simply need to remember these things to keep the memories safe.
This summer has been incredibly bittersweet for me because while I am happy to sharing this time with my children, my focus is on summer's end and my son heading off to college. Memories have taken over my thoughts and this enormous change in my family has me thinking about all the firsts he had taken and the firsts yet to come and the inevitable sadness that I feel that those new firsts will not be documented by me. Yes, I am fully aware that some of those firsts should not be documented at all.
One of my closest friends told me that while this will be a difficult summer because of the obvious countdown to his departure, once he goes, the focus will be on the countdown to his return and the new memories we will make. All I know is that I will be there happily documenting those times, memory hoarder that I am.
Thursday, July 3, 2014
Unkind Summer
Since the last week of school, my oldest was sick then lovingly passed the bug to my husband who held on to it for a few days, then decided my other son was missing out so he shared it with him. Simultaneous to this germ-passing event, I faced two health issues myself (small, but impossibly annoying and long lasting) before catching that lovely bug from my son who apparently did not want me to feel left out. Thrilled to have received this 'gift,' I sweetened the pot by adding the longest lasting sore throat to the cootie before sharing it with my youngest. Nice twist, no? We decided to keep illness for as long as is humanly possible and so we are just now recovering. Just not a fun start to summer at all. I was hoping to put all of summer's initial annoyance behind us when we awoke this morning at 5am to the deafening shrill tone of our carbon monoxide detector. The good thing is that we would have been getting up in 25 minutes anyway, but the bad thing is that no one needs to be startled awake quite like that at any time of the day or night.
My first thought after I was able to calm myself down enough to think was that I had better get out of the shortie pj's and put on some clothes while my second thought was that no one should see what my short hair looks like in the morning before a shower. Crap, this was going to be ugly, very ugly. By this point, my husband and the children were in flight mode and with me yelling 'grab Phoebe and get out of the house,' I made my way down the stairs taking my keys and phone (I was later berated by my daughter for not having the decency to have grabbed her phone as well) and jackets for everyone as I ran out the door. What a fun way to start the day!
While we waited for the fire department to arrive, praying all the time that their sirens would not be blaring, we did what any normal family would do when wrenched from their beds at an unkind hour. My boys played lacrosse, my husband was on his phone and my daughter chattered on about the morning's events and how incredulous she was that she had seen her phone but not taken it. There you go.
Long story short, the fire department finally showed up only to take a look and deduce that they had no idea why the alarm went off. They took a reading and there was nothing to be concerned about. Seriously? I wanted something to be wrong on some level. We earned a better answer than they had no idea, right? Now I am paranoid this will happen again, randomly. Let's tick another box for additional stress for this mommy.
So summer is bugging me right now. I had hopes of relaxing and enjoying beautiful weather...don't get me started on that subject either. That said, I hope summer takes it sweet time coming to an end as my son heads off to college in August and I want to face that even less than I wanted to face those firemen this morning, not showered with crazy hair, mismatched clothes and a bad attitude.
My first thought after I was able to calm myself down enough to think was that I had better get out of the shortie pj's and put on some clothes while my second thought was that no one should see what my short hair looks like in the morning before a shower. Crap, this was going to be ugly, very ugly. By this point, my husband and the children were in flight mode and with me yelling 'grab Phoebe and get out of the house,' I made my way down the stairs taking my keys and phone (I was later berated by my daughter for not having the decency to have grabbed her phone as well) and jackets for everyone as I ran out the door. What a fun way to start the day!
While we waited for the fire department to arrive, praying all the time that their sirens would not be blaring, we did what any normal family would do when wrenched from their beds at an unkind hour. My boys played lacrosse, my husband was on his phone and my daughter chattered on about the morning's events and how incredulous she was that she had seen her phone but not taken it. There you go.
Long story short, the fire department finally showed up only to take a look and deduce that they had no idea why the alarm went off. They took a reading and there was nothing to be concerned about. Seriously? I wanted something to be wrong on some level. We earned a better answer than they had no idea, right? Now I am paranoid this will happen again, randomly. Let's tick another box for additional stress for this mommy.
So summer is bugging me right now. I had hopes of relaxing and enjoying beautiful weather...don't get me started on that subject either. That said, I hope summer takes it sweet time coming to an end as my son heads off to college in August and I want to face that even less than I wanted to face those firemen this morning, not showered with crazy hair, mismatched clothes and a bad attitude.
Monday, May 19, 2014
The Final Countdown
I know it has been quite awhile since I last wrote a post, but that does not mean that I have not had a lot to say. My issue is that most of what is inside my head right now needs to be edited extensively before it hits the page and is ready for public consumption. It is not a secret that we have been struggling with trying to find a job for my husband, but that has been resolved (albeit for a brief while) with the temporary position he was offered this morning. While it is far from perfect and it merely postpones our current situation, it does feel good to be able to table our never-ending discussions about networking, meetings, job boards, resumes and online applications so that I can discuss what is truly important to me right now, my son's impending graduation.
Never did I think that this event would bring me to my knees as it has been doing for the last few months. The family joke is that I can be brought to tears at the mere mention of some inane pre-graduation reference. My son's senior speech? I cried for weeks. Prom? Yikes. Last senior speech of the year? You got it. The final student was not even my son but I was overwhelmed by the fact that my son's class, in essence MY class, would soon be graduating. His final two days of his high school career are today and tomorrow and then he has finals. How did the year go by so quickly? It feels like only yesterday that we were sitting at his 8th Grade Transition Dinner listening to what would be in store for us in high school.
People tell me that I should be happy for him as he is embarking on his own life now, a new chapter of independence but I am. I could not be more proud of him if I tried. You see, I am really crying for myself and all that I will be missing when he goes away. I tried a variety of careers before having my son but nothing felt quite right. I was never satisfied and always searching, but then I had a baby and everything crystallized for me. As antiquated as it may sound, I was born to be a mom. I have a 'new normal' ahead for me, an adjustment to my thinking and planning as now I will be caring for three children at home, not four. Right now, it just seems weird, odd and surreal that I will not be setting the table for six nor will I be reading over his essays or having him sit in the passenger seat when driving to school with his siblings. It is definitely going to take quite a while for me to ever get used to this, if indeed I ever do.
I wish I could go back to my 'original normal,' back on the east coast, with my husband working at a job he loved and with me in my sun-filled home stressing out over whether or not to send my soon-to-graduate to kindergarten at four years old or not (I did) and hoping that as my children grew up they would get along better (they don't). I can say with some certainty, however, that no matter how sad I am about graduation, there is one person in this family who is more worried than I am. That would be the son who is next in line for all my attention (and anxiety and worry) as he navigates the three years until he goes off to college.
Never did I think that this event would bring me to my knees as it has been doing for the last few months. The family joke is that I can be brought to tears at the mere mention of some inane pre-graduation reference. My son's senior speech? I cried for weeks. Prom? Yikes. Last senior speech of the year? You got it. The final student was not even my son but I was overwhelmed by the fact that my son's class, in essence MY class, would soon be graduating. His final two days of his high school career are today and tomorrow and then he has finals. How did the year go by so quickly? It feels like only yesterday that we were sitting at his 8th Grade Transition Dinner listening to what would be in store for us in high school.
People tell me that I should be happy for him as he is embarking on his own life now, a new chapter of independence but I am. I could not be more proud of him if I tried. You see, I am really crying for myself and all that I will be missing when he goes away. I tried a variety of careers before having my son but nothing felt quite right. I was never satisfied and always searching, but then I had a baby and everything crystallized for me. As antiquated as it may sound, I was born to be a mom. I have a 'new normal' ahead for me, an adjustment to my thinking and planning as now I will be caring for three children at home, not four. Right now, it just seems weird, odd and surreal that I will not be setting the table for six nor will I be reading over his essays or having him sit in the passenger seat when driving to school with his siblings. It is definitely going to take quite a while for me to ever get used to this, if indeed I ever do.
I wish I could go back to my 'original normal,' back on the east coast, with my husband working at a job he loved and with me in my sun-filled home stressing out over whether or not to send my soon-to-graduate to kindergarten at four years old or not (I did) and hoping that as my children grew up they would get along better (they don't). I can say with some certainty, however, that no matter how sad I am about graduation, there is one person in this family who is more worried than I am. That would be the son who is next in line for all my attention (and anxiety and worry) as he navigates the three years until he goes off to college.
Thursday, April 24, 2014
And The Winner Is...
Lists, lists everywhere. They are my only means of staying sane of late, of ordering the chaos, of remembering who to pick up, at what time and where. With that in mind, I have decided to try something different today and to utilize my list-making skills on the blog and so I bring you the top 5 reasons why I have become an unemployment shrew. I hope you enjoy the new format and, as always, please feel free to comment if you do. Of course, if you don't, I would ask that you not share your opinion as one, I am already cranky enough and, two, this format will not be a permanent change to my blog. Thanks (insert smiley face emoji).
1. The interview that keeps on giving. Simply put, one goes on an interview or two or three, gets amazingly positive feedback, and then never hears from the company again, despite following up via email and phone. Okay, so clearly the applicant did not make the cut, right? Why complain? I'll tell you why. I feel it speaks to the de-personalization of the process as a whole. Back in the day when snail mail was the only game in town, responding to all interviewees might have been a real issue, but with the advent of email, this truly becomes a moot point. Additionally, I am not expecting that a company respond individually to anyone who applied for the position, but merely to the group who made it to the final round of interviews. At most, maybe 5? How tough would this be. To make life even easier, how about a quickie email to only those few who bothered to follow-up, you know, the still-interested candidates. It might be a nice gesture plus it offers closure. Common courtesy.
2. Updated job boards. Yes, I now that only about 2% of all job seekers actually find a job through a job board listing, but for the other fools who check them constantly (that would be me) in the hope of being part of that small group, it might be nice to see positions that are still open and/or viable. Perhaps I am over-simplifying the boards' maintenance, but somehow I doubt it. Purge, people, let it go!
3. The crazy questions from disbelievers. First, let me say that I am right there with you. No one and I do mean no one, can believe that we are going through this for the third time and that my husband is still out of work, more than I can. Talk about being incredulous! Jeesh! That said, if one more person questions how hard my husband is looking for work, I think I may just scream. Do they think we enjoy living with all this stress? lack of money? fun? Even if we did, is it any of their business at all? Ah, no.
4. Financial stress. Enough said.
5. What to continue to tell the children. I could go on and on about this one, but I think I will just keep my thoughts to myself. Trust me, you are all better off for it.
So there you have it, my vent for the day. Apparently, the gloomy, rainy day is working on my oft sunny disposition. C'mon on, I could not even type that with a straight face please don't tell me that you could read it with one.
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