That's It, I Quit

Hold on to your granny panties for this revelation....I over-committed. Again. Remember when I needed a job where I was moving around all the time, you know, like 5 weeks ago? Yeah, about that. I loved being on my feet all day, I loved the people I worked with and I was finally getting good at it. Then Tuesday happened. We had a full day of cleans scheduled, my husband had to take the puppy to work, the kids had soccer and drama class, and the neighbor who picks up after school didn't pick up after school. When I got to my phone, 30 minutes after school ended, I had a barrage of messages asking if I could pick up or if the kids could walk home. I couldn't pick up and it was pouring rain outside. We were having a freak thunderstorm that was complete with thunder, lighting and sheets of rain that would drown a small child in five minutes flat. I scrambled to make phone calls, attempting to find out where my kids were. Did they get picked up? Were they trudging through a river, barefoot and uphill both ways? My husband confirmed that they weren't home, my neighbor confirmed that her husband was running late, and I confirmed that I was in the midst of a mommy panic attack. Drama class started in fifteen minutes, soccer in thirty minutes and my husband was home with a puppy who was full of shenanigans. I was at work. I couldn't deal with any of it over the phone and it was making me crazy.

When I got home, my kids were soaked, my husband looked ready to throw in the towel and everyone was piled in the car on their way to late starts at each and every activity. This wasn't working. That evening, I talked to my husband about an extra cleaning job I had picked up in trade for free yoga classes. He wasn't as excited as I was.
"So, now your going to be gone two full days and three nights a week? This is what you want?"

I admitted that I don't know what I want. It changes all the time and I take on too many jobs for one glaring reason....I want to prove that I am worthy. Worthy of a nice home, a great husband, money in the bank that I don't work for, and worthy to live a blessed life. I don't know who I need to prove it to, but I feel like I need to prove it. Very rarely does my husband question why I do the things I do and when he does, I know it's not working.
"I like having you as a stay-at-home mom. I like that you are writing and taking care of the house. I can make money, that's not a problem."

It's only a problem for me. A problem that I have been obsessing about for the entirety of our marriage. I stayed home when my kids were babies, worked minimum wage jobs as they got older and have never made as much money as my husband. It's a pride thing. We are in it together and he is supportive and I have let it become my issue. So, I quit. I quit my cleaning job. It's one of those lessons in life that makes me crazy because I want to commit to everything, forever, and be great every single day. This time I get to commit to letting it go and finding the joy in that.  

Image courtesy of careerrocketeer.com Check out their awesome post about how to quit a job the right way. http://careerrocketeer.com/2011/03/resignation-without-reservation-the-how-tos-of-quitting.html

Cleaning Lady And The Butter Dish

Image courtesy of http://intodesigninc.wordpress.com/tag/cleaning/

(If I looked like this is an apron, I would burn all the clothes I own and wear this to the grocery store)

We have touched on this before, but here we go again....I like to stay busy. Okay, that is putting it mildly, I am addicted to being busy and I find myself itching to accomplish something even on vacation. When people tout the joys of meditation or a mid-afternoon siesta, all I can think is "How long is that going to take? I have shit to do". Call it OCD or Type A personality or being an oldest child, whatever it is, I have it. When I quit my day job last October to focus on writing and doing payroll for our small business, I was giddy. No more clocking in, cleaning up, uniforms or set schedules. (That's funny considering what I have taken on this week.) While it has been great, it has also made me crazy. I have plenty to do, but most of it involves sitting at a desk.....lots of sitting at a desk. I have gained 10 pounds and realized something about myself, I need to move. Being busy isn't enough, my body needs to be moving and I ache for the socialization that comes from working with other people. People I am not having sex with. It's cool that my husband and I can transition from a work/home relationship, but there is only so much grab ass and fantasy football updates a girl can handle at the office. I was in need of a new job.

This all leads up to what I chose to take on this week.....I have decided to work for a cleaning company two days a week. It was fairly easy to get hired, the owner is this really cool chick who I grew up torturing from the time she was an infant....sisters are the best. My first week was exhausting and it reminded me of why I hate being the newbie at a job. I want to be good from day one, I don't take criticism well and I detest standing by watching someone else work in the name of training. I imagine it was sweet payback for my sister who was able to critique my cleaning style and teach me the right way to do things. I liked it better when I was in charge. Now she's the boss and it's clear why her company has done so well, she is really fucking good at what she does. Hiring a cleaning crew to take over your house can be daunting and you can never be sure about what kind of work you are going to get. People touching your personal shit and having to pay for a clean that doesn't live up to your expectations. When you hire my sister, you never have to worry about any of that. It's top to bottom perfection in every single home she takes on. There is an expectation of quality and integrity that is in short supply at most companies I have worked for. She reminded me on my first day that even a penny on the floor gets put on the closest available, clean surface....never in your apron. She wants every surface touched, cleaned and shined to perfection. At one home, she showed me something I had missed while cleaning the kitchen, a butter dish. I told her that I had moved it, wiped the top and placed it in the correct place.
"That's okay, but we want to wow our clients."
She proceeded to take a piece of paper towel, open the butter dish and wipe around the butter so you could never tell it was used. I thought I had issues. Truth be told, I have a whole new respect for my sister and the people who work for her. I came home after my first day ready to pass out on the dining room floor. I am overwhelmed, excited and I now have a something else to add to my current job line up, cleaning lady. This ain't no desk job, that's for sure.

Getting A Real Job

When I was younger, I would dream about being an actress, a marine biologist and a vet, but never a mom. That wasn't a real job. My mom was the pinnacle of stay at home parents, but I couldn't appreciate all that she did because she made it look so easy. It never looked like work. She was happy to hang our clothes out on the line and help us with homework. We had homemade meals every evening and clean clothes waiting in our drawers every morning. I knew it wasn't a fairy who cleaned the house but I didn't think that could be considered work. My friends' moms went to the nursing home and the county courthouse for 8 hours a day. Their mom's weren't home after school which seemed pretty cool to a 12 year old who wanted to raid the fridge and watch MTV all afternoon. My mom was waiting for us after school with fresh cookies and a smile. It seems great but sometimes irritated my preteen senses. I couldn't  make bad choices with her hanging around the house all day. I had yet to understand that she had signed up for the toughest gig around by not having a 'real' job.

 The vet and marine biologist gigs didn't pan out for me and I gained a new found interest in having babies. I was home with my kids for the first years of their lives and worked part time jobs off and on to mingle with people who spoke in whole sentences and consumed more than breast milk. When I was at work, I felt validated by a paycheck and other adults who appreciated my efforts. At home, I worked harder to bathe, diaper, feed and entertain my kids without the perks or the paycheck. The benefits were happy kids and an enjoyable home life, but the hours were long and there were moments when I felt insignificant. I was just a mom. My friends had careers, college educations and retirement funds. They were living up their 20's at bars, wine tastings and indie movie premiers. I couldn't stay awake for an entire movie and I drank boxed wine. Bars were either soap or what I wanted to be behind so I could sleep for 8 hours straight. This mom thing was starting to feel like a 'real' job and I owed my own mom a big apology and an even bigger thank you.

My son asked me the other night at dinner when I was going to get a real job. I have recently left a company and can now make my own hours. I work while my kids are at school and write while they are asleep. I've become a pro at making it look easy. So easy that my kids don't think I have a job. I guess it takes becoming a parent to understand that the job your parents did raising you far surpasses what they did for an occupation. And sometimes it is one in the same.