Where Ever the Road Takes Us

I have one double stroller for my daycare. We have been putting a lot of miles on it ...

I would have preferred to have a single stroller so my one-year-old could ride while my two-year-old could burn off some energy as he walked along at our side.

One (on foot) walk with my two-year-old (when my one-year-old went home sick), was enough to make me see that we had better do most of our walking before my second one-year-old joins us in October. A ten minute stroll to the mailbox turned into a half hour hike when my two-year-old set the pace.

Our days of 'two' are numbered. My new one-year-old is going to come for a few trial runs before her mom goes back to work in October. So I am indulging myself in walking where ever the road takes us, for as long as I choose for now.

Yesterday I thought we would head off in the direction of the first school I worked at last fall. As I walked the streets that I walked every day during those two months, I could feel the anxiety that I felt at that time resurface. I breathed a heavy sigh of relief knowing that I didn't have to 'walk that walk' again.

We detoured around that school and ended up walking past an elementary school that I was called out to work at a few times when I was on the sub list. Though memories of the kind and helpful staff overrode the anxiousness that I felt each and every time that I walked into a new school, again ... I was grateful that I was not walking that life of uncertainty any longer.

We continued to walk and I revelled in my renewed appreciation for my old life. We walked and walked and walked. My one-year-old dozed off to sleep. My two-year-old got stuck in a verbal rut yesterday as he asked, "Where'd my daddy go??" about a bazillion times (originally, I told My Youngest that it was at least a hundred. Then my two-year-old started again and it quickly became 101, 102, 103, 104, 105, 106, 107, 108 ... within the next minute and a half,so I am simply estimating that by the day's end it must have been close to a bazillion times).

I decided to turn back and start heading towards home when I spotted a school that I had never noticed before. I thought that we would walk past one last school and head back.

Low and behold, I spotted my neighbor at work in the school yard. She stopped and chatted with us for a while. We live across the street from each other. I used to watch her daughters before and after school. Her son bought my car. Yet we haven't spoken to each other in over a year.

It's funny how life works. Our neighbors become strangers to us ... yet we find them a half hour's walk away from home and we realize how much we have to say.

It is a small little adventure for us each day as we walk where ever the road takes us ...

Working My Way Back ...

I have started inviting people back into my life and our home lately. I never really stopped altogether ... but it became harder and harder to extend those invitations, the further I retreated into myself as I trudged through the past few years.

The first time it happened was just over a week ago.

I was responding to a one-line email which (technically) didn't even require a response. One page of words later, I found my fingers suggesting that we plan a Sister Sleepover. Four days after that, both of my sisters were on board with the idea. And voila! It was a done deal. A few weekends from now, if you listen very carefully, you will hear the characteristic laugh of the Three Sisters in the distance (at a family gathering, one of my sister's in laws came up to the three of us and commented, "You even have the same laugh!").

As I was reorganizing a closet (my make-shift pantry) the other day, I stumbled upon some angel food cake mixes.It just so happened that it was a good friend's birthday the day before I came upon this little treasure. And her favorite dessert is ... angel food cake.

Yesterday (after I made some rather tasty hamburger soup for lunch), I decided to make an angel food cake. Once it was in the oven, I picked up the phone and called 'the birthday girl' and a few friends ...

Three phone calls later, I had reached only one person (I left messages for the others) but they were pleased and happy to plan to come for supper and cake (I thought I may as well offer to share my soup as well as dessert). Unfortunately the others had plans but ... I still had the opportunity to chat with them when they returned my call. The invitations were still rewarded with an excuse for a brief visit (plus ... I still have two more angel food cake mixes so we have a future date with cake involved, before this month is over!).

We had a small gathering which was thoroughly enjoyable. Due to the spur of the moment nature of the invitation, expectation levels were low. I utilized whatever was in the house for our menu and we enjoyed the company as much as (more!) than the food that was on the table.

I love picking up the phone (or sending a quick email) and taking a chance on making these little things happen.

I have been extending myself on many levels lately. I simply have 'more' of myself to give now that I am in a better, more grounded state myself.

Working from home has limited me from taking myself out of my comfort zone and going to others. But it has grounded me in a way that I feel that I can be a better friend. From the comfort of my own home.

I am working my way back to being in a place where I have so much more of myself to offer. It feels oh-so-good (great) to be back.

It FEELS Like Home Again ...

I was a little bit disappointed in myself when I didn't step right back into the daycare mode right off the bat when I reopend my Daycare Doors last week ...

By the end of my daycare 'career', I had things running like a finely oiled machine around here. I had daily and weekly routines that worked. The house was tidy and clean. Little things got done on a regular basis. I am a putterer ... and just like the turtle in Aesop's Fable ... I slowly but surely 'won' the race (or at least managed to keep a little bit ahead of the game).

I like to 'race' but I'm more of an endurance runner. I race against time constantly. Got a tedious job that needs to get done? Race against the clock as you work at the task at hand. Have an overwhelming job that makes your knees go weak at the very thought of it?  Break it down into small, manageable pieces and imagine a timeline that you can try to beat.

When I worked out of my home (or even worked within my home without the ability to putter with things around the house at the same time that I was earning that pay cheque) housework, cooking or anything domestic became like a short distance sprint. I had a finite amount of time to do what had to be done. My long distance endurance skills did not work in my favor. I did very little with the little time that I had.

I am now into Week #2 of my renewed daycare career. Monday? I didn't do so well. Today? I did awesome (if I do say so myself!).

I got up a half hour earlier. That was the best way to kick start the day. I didn't short change myself of the quiet time that I have come to need in my day.

Then I started puttering.

Finding a few cat hairs on the one-year-old in my care yesterday reminded me of the promise that I made to myself years ago. I did not (and still do not) want my kids going home covered in cat hair. My obsession with tending to cat hair is back.

I wiped down the couch with a dual goal in mind. To get rid of any cat hair and scrub out any 'water marks'. Our cat drools when he sleeps and leaves his drool marks behind in his favorite cat-napping spots. My one-year-old is at an everything-goes-in-my-mouth stage ... which has included the couch (yuck). And my two-year-old is at a copy-whatever-you-see-anyone-else-does stage ... which means that he has also sucked on our couch a little bit (gross). Thus ... the couch was in dire need of a good scrubbing ...

Then ... I had pulled out the necessary ingredients and a recipe for Hamburger Soup. The soup will be an overkill for lunch (my one-year-old went home, after she threw up all over her mom as she was being dropped off this morning), since I am feeding 'two'. But it will be a tasty supper treat on this cool and windy fall day. Plus ... I will be able to freeze the excess.

The house smells like a home. It is starting to feel like someone who cares lives here. I've missed this place. It feels like home again ... and oh, how I've missed this feeling!

The Final Hour

I was going to write a light and fluffy post about 'The Final Hour' this morning ... the hour before my alarm clock went off today (I refused to turn on the TV and I thought sleep was going to elude me ... until I woke up from a dream/nightmare about working at yet another new job) ...

Then I realized what day this is. I have been watching several 9-11 documentaries and they are a grim reminder of how precious that final hour can be.

I was talking with a friend yesterday and we spoke of the illnesses that have consumed and taken the lives of too many of the people that we know through our (prior) workplace.

I talked to another friend who is currently battling cancer and various other physical ailments. When I asked the question "What is the common denominator?", my friend answered before I finished asking the question, "Stress ..."

It seems that you don't have to look far these days to hear of people unhappy with their job. Stress levels are reaching new proportions. Chronic stress. Stress that faces people every single work day and permeates into their time off.

I often ask these people what they feel their options are. They are stuck. Stuck in a job that pays the bills. Stuck because they rely on the benefits. Stuck just 'one more year' (or whatever time period is necessary) to get full pension or benefits or save a little more. I would also imagine that there is a certain amount of fear that paralyzes a lot of people into staying where they are at. Full-time work, job security and stability are a frail thing these days. Everyone has a reason for staying where they are. And they are very good reasons ...

But the stress of staying in a situation that is eroding your mental and physical health? Is there a dollar value that can be placed on that?

It has happened far too often, that people have stuck it out too long. By the time they walk away from the stressors of their life, the damage has already been done. They finally retire ... and then disease consumes them and steals the time they have left.

If they had known, they could have walked away a year sooner and enjoyed that final year that they 'gave' to a situation that was killing them slowly. Even if their time here on earth was predestined ... wouldn't they have chosen to spend that final year of good health doing things that they loved to do and spending time with people who lift them up?

I always thought that I sounded a little melodramatic when I said (when I left my husband for the third and final time), that I knew I would die an early death if I stayed. I never said or meant to imply that it would be anything but a stress-related demise ... but it could have gone any way at that point.

Since that time, I have learned to listen to the wise inner voice inside that knows when it is 'time to walk away' from a situation that is killing me softly.

I have 'quit' many things in my life. Each ending brings about a new beginning. As long as one keeps looking to the horizon and never stops starting over, you aren't really 'quitting'. You are just moving on.

When I look back on my life, I want to know that I spent that final year ... or that final hour wisely. A life with no (or few) regrets. I don't want to waste that 'final hour'. Nor do I want to give it to a situation that is pulling me down.

So I have restarted. Again. As I look back on last year ... even if it was my 'final year', I can find the blessings mixed in amongst the chaos of my mind. It is my goal to make this year better.

One can't live their life looking in a rear view mirror. You can only make the best of the hours, days and years at your disposal. Spend them wisely.

Eleven years ago, who innocently walked into their workplace and thought they could be facing their final hour?

Displaced

My Youngest asked to use the computer this morning. 'No problem', I thought (well, actually I groaned "Ughh" and growled a little bit first and thought 'no problem' a few seconds later), 'I can use my netbook...'

That was approximately 45 minutes ago.

I signed onto my Netbook and every program or website I opened took minutes to open (verses the seconds that I have grown accustomed to). This mini computer is moves as slow as molasses and every little thing is takes forever.

Finally I was at a point where I could either write my mom's weekly letter ... or start writing a blog post ... and the mouse stopped working.

This happens sporadically with this computer. All I have to do is shut down the computer with all of the programs open ... which means the start up process is even slower as it tells me that programs were shut down unexpectedly and asks if I want to go back to where I was when everything crashed on me.

Again, on most computers this message and the extra clicking required to get back to where you want to be would take seconds. This economy mini laptop is slow. So back I went to the waiting process as I got various messages about this, that and the other thing.

Which means that my original blog post theme has left the building. I am sitting in the kitchen. My legs are curled up underneath me because I am too short to effectively type at the computer at the kitchen table (I really need a booster seat). I am sitting too close to the radio and the music is distracting me (yes, I could turn it off but music makes me happy). And the clock is ticking oh-too-quickly and my first arrival of the day is due to walk in the door in minutes.

I am a creature of habit. I have a morning routine that works for me. I can be flexible. But this morning everything is moving in slow motion (except the clock).

I laid in bed wide awake and ready to get up a half hour before the alarm went off this morning. I finally got up 15 minutes early. I think I am going to go and reset the alarm and get up that half hour earlier tomorrow morning.

I love the quiet of the morning. I don't like sharing that time too much. A little bit? Okay. Just don't ask me to give up my morning computer time. It throws me a little out of whack.

I have been displaced this morning. The words don't want to flow from the busy-ness of the kitchen. There is too much going on in this room.

I'll be back when it's quiet. But for now, I'm going to reset my alarm. I need to carve out a little bit of extra quiet time for myself in the morning.

It's all so easy ... because even though my morning has gone a little bit askew, it just doesn't matter. Because I'm working from home. I will find 'my time' later on today. Quiet time has returned to my life. I missed quiet time.

Adding a little bit of quiet time to your day can restart the day. This little computer is not the only thing that is moving a little sluggish this morning. Rebooting the computer did the trick. I am thinking that a morning walk and a dose of quiet time will do the trick for me.

I love working from home. Rebooting, restarting a little bit of quiet and surrounded in all that comforts me makes everything so easy.

I feel better already.

A Saturday That FELT Like a Saturday!

It is not that I haven't had a Saturday off in a while. I have. It is not that I haven't had leisurely Saturdays. I have had those too. It is not that I have lacked in days off. I have also had my share of those. But yesterday was the first Saturday that felt like a Saturday in a very long time.

The past three years have been a little out of the norm for me.

The first year, I was in school. I had to put the required amount of hours per week, I babysat before and after school kids and I worked part-time at my bookkeeping job. I definitely had weekends and I could easily make plans. But the bookkeeping job was one of those jobs that could infringe on my weekends. If I didn't get all of my school hours logged, I could go in on a Saturday. I have no real memory of resenting anything that infringed on my weekends but ... weekends were not a 'given'.

The second year, I worked at my bookkeeping job. The work came in ebbs and flows. I could pretty well do whatever I wanted to do in and around my bookkeeping responsibilities, but there was a price to pay. If I took days off during the week, there could be a payback of having to work the weekend. When the work was available and I hadn't worked enough hours in the month ... I worked whatever hours were available, whenever I could squeeze them in so that I could to make up for lost time.

Eventually, my work was moved out of my home and the hours were confined to Monday to Friday. I had weekends at that point in time, but the restlessness from working out of my home was so prevalent that the memory of savoring a Saturday does not stand out for me in a big way right now. I know that weekends happened ... but there was a restlessness within me throughout those months. Making it to another weekend meant that I survived another week.

Then came my year of working at the school. The hours were clearly defined - 8 a.m. to 4 p.m.; Monday through Friday. The only problem was ... that they weren't guaranteed. The first months were full-time, but the stress levels were so high that all that stands out, is that I slept. Alot. That period was followed by being on call for the rest of the year. Sometimes I worked. Sometimes I didn't. I ended up with unexpected days off throughout the week. I often ended up with long weekends. But when days off are a surprise and your budget is severely affected by all of those days that you don't work ... weekends came and went ... but I did not savor them in a way that you do when you work five days and earn your two days off.

Last of all, came The Summer of 2012. The summer of a job that was 'the final straw'. The schedule was all over the map. Working weekends was (almost) a given. Yes, I could book weekends off. Yes, I actually got a weekend off. But days off at that job could be changed with one phone call. I learned not to count on the schedule because it changed like the wind (not really, but it felt like it when I was on the other end of the phone agreeing to work when I wasn't scheduled).

Then came The Decision That Changed My Life. The decision to reopen my daycare and quit my other jobs. I gifted myself with two weeks off at the end of August to transition back into this lifestyle. One week of holidays, followed by one week of reorganizing our home and getting ready for the grand reopening (not so grand really). They were two very busy weeks.

This was followed by ... last week.

A week where I started a part-time bookkeeping job. A week where my daycare doors welcomed two little people into our Daycare Family. A week where I delivered flyers and completed that task - for the week - at 9:00 Friday night. It was a week that I ... worked. It was a week where ... I earned a weekend. It was a week that marked the return as Life As I Knew It ... and it felt good.

Saturday arrived and I had an excess of words. I blogged. I sent off a few emails. I called my mom. Then I sat still.

I ate when I was hungry (and when I was not hungry too). I watched TV. I did the crossword. I dozed off and on throughout the afternoon. I relaxed. I felt like a cat in a sunbeam as I felt every inch of my body melt into the couch and thought to myself ... "This is the life!"

The phone didn't ring and I didn't have the strength to lift it up and dial it after I talked with my mom. There are several people that I wanted to call ... but I just ... didn't.

I have had days like this throughout the years of transition that preceded it. But yesterday was different. There was a sense of coming home again. I was peaceful. Inside and out.

I look back at where I've been and I'm glad that I travelled that road. But I am not a thrill seeker. I don't want to live a life where my senses are on high alert at all times. I think I ran on adrenaline a lot of the time. By the end, I was riddled with anxiety and doubted myself on every level.

The thrills and chills are behind me now. I know that I tend to shake up my world a little from time to time. I'm sure that I will probably eventually raise the bar a little from where it is at the moment.

But for now? This moment? As I sit here and live and breathe my New Life? I am calm. I am happy. I am at peace. Add those sensations to a Saturday that I actually earned ... and it was a Saturday that actually felt like a Saturday.

I am home again.

Taking Care of Business

I was asked if I have a pamphlet for my daycare ... so my blogging time yesterday morning was spent fine tuning my newest promotional item. And voila! I have a brochure to add to my arsenal of hand-outs to promote my new daycare business.

Then there is the Excel spreadsheet that I created to keep track of income and expenses. I wish that I had utilized this handy tool for my previous daycare years. But I wasn't as wise to the benefits of Microsoft Office back then.

This Excel sheet is a godsend as I try to figure out a fair and equitable flat rate for varying schedules and rates. In the past, I have spent hours figuring, checking and rechecking my numbers as I try to figure out a fair-for-all rate of pay. Excel has given me the power to change one number and all of the calculations are automatic!

I haven't started a newsletter yet but you can be sure that my newsletter experience from the school will be brought into my new world.

As I develop various tools to take care of business, I am seeing the value of my schooling. I am bringing Microsoft Office into my daycare world. Microsoft Word is helping me create professional business cards, posters, pamphlets, start-up literature, contact lists and newsletters. Excel is helping me manage the financial end of things.

The ability to utilize what I have learned in my new world fulfills my need to work my brain. Working with numbers and the business end of running a daycare has always come easy to me. I thank my math skills and years of banking and bookkeeping experience for that. Creating documents, advertising and literature to promote my business fulfills my need to add my signature touch to the world we are creating here.

After spending a week communicating at the level of a one and a two year old, my brain welcomes the challenge.

Next week's challenge? Consistency and calmness must reign as I teach my new little ones the importance of treating others the way you want to be treated (translation - don't grab toys from someone just because they have them). Routines will teach my one-year-old that nap time is a very good time. Going to sleep happy means waking up happy.

Will my year of working at the school help me overcome the challenges that I see before me? I believe it will. If I start talking/thinking and writing at the level of the children I care for, I will sound the alarms and bring myself back into the adult world by remembering all that I learned last year.

I am grateful for all that I have learned throughout my hiatus from full-time daycare, as I find myself bringing all that I have learned into my new world ... as I take care of the business at hand.