Urban Drool

...and because I am feeling extra grateful for my delicious family these days, I decided to nauseate you lot with posting the picture that we took this year that went on the first ever Christmas cards that I have ever sent out. Ever.

(and for the record, YES they were sent out with an accompanying nauseating "this is what happened to us this year, and how are YOU all doing?" holiday letter. On holiday stationary. That matched the envelope. And the address labels. And the color of the glitter pen with which we signed every single one of the 97 letters that we sent out. I'm very sorry. I just couldn't help myself.)

I know, you totally want to divorce me know, don't you? What with the nauseating-ness of it all.

Anyway, Happy Freaking Holidays. I love you all.

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20061207/ap_on_re_us/missing_f...

I’m sitting at my desk at work. I’m looking out the window at the golf course behind our building – watching as the snow keeps falling and falling. I’m eating a hot fresh bagel and just started a fresh pot of coffee in the lunchroom.

I feel like I am the luckiest girl in the world. Today, I am safe and warm. Today, my husband and my baby are safe and warm. And my heart is breaking for a woman thousands of miles away – a woman whose husband was not safe or warm, but made the ultimate sacrifice in the hope that she and their babies would be.

I feel like I have so much to say about the story of James Kim and his family, but simple words fail me. When I went home last night I spoke briefly about it with the Boy.

“Would you have gone to try and find help? Would you have left?”

“Yes.”

Answered without hesitation. He even looked a little surprised that I asked the question. What else is a man, a father, to do?

This story hit me so close. A young, resourceful, dark haired man. A young father. Named James.

My own Boy, my own young, dark haired James is safe and warm today. I left him and our baby girl tucked into our bed at home with the TV and the heaters going and the snow falling gently outside the bedroom windows.

Thank you for your sacrifice James Kim. I hope against hope that you somehow knew or at least know now that your family, your girls, are safe and warm.

(Begin inner monolouge)

Sometimes I wish I could write long, thoughtfully considered and beautifully executed posts that read as smooth as a sippy cup of Bailey's Irish Cream.

But more often than not, my posts are an exact reflection of my thoughts - much more like mental diarrhea than my esteemed favorite, Bill Bryson.

(End inner Monolouge)


J-O-B

Neither of the two most recent firms I have interviewed at have deigned to hire my over-qualified ass.

That, by the way, is the most often-cited reason for not hiring me. I have a Bachelor's Degree from a private, well respected institution, I have a Juris Doctorate, I have 5+ years of experience under my belt. So, why am I looking to take Legal Assistant-Paralegal type jobs?

Why?

Becuase, frankly, a Legal Assistant position in downtown Cleveland is going to pay a lot more than what I'm earning right now. And even if I did take 2 months off to study, take the Bar and get my License, I would not be seeing any major increase in salary at the firm I am at right now.

I COULD get my license and try and work downtown, but I would lose even more time with my family than what I have right now. As an Assistant, I could show up at 9, leave promptly at 5, and tell the rest of the world to go jump off a bridge - the rest of my time would be my own.

I have worked with and for attorneys for years. I have seen how much of your life is sacrificed. I'm not going to do that. I don't care if it means I can never drive a brand new car. I don't if it means I will (almost always) live paycheck to paycheck.

I know what I want to do with my life.

I want to be a mom.

I want to be a mom.

I get 100 times more personal satisfaction from bathing my baby, dressing her in her PJs, and nursing her to sleep than I do from the most complex application I ever worked at to complete and file with the U.S. Department of State.

Taking the baby downtown, having lunch with my dad and pushing her around Public Square in her stroller and seeing her huge brown eyes go round and sparkly with excitement means so much more to me than plowing through a mountain of paperwork and getting a case approved just under the wire.

I cannot wait for PTA meetings, helping out with Holiday Craft fairs at her Elementary Schools, driving her to piano lessons and showing her how to make French Toast. I want to coach her soccer team and I want to take her camping when she's in Girl Scouts.

I dearly wish that someone could pay me a middle-class salary to stay home and raise my daughter. But they won't.

So.

I will continue to look for another job. Closer to home. With less stress. And more money. And more flexible hours. I know it's out there. There is a job out there that is meant for me. And I will always work. Becuase I have to. I have a mortgage to pay. I have nice baby clothes to buy. I have an expectation to build another 900 square feet onto my house in the Spring, so my baby can one day have her own room. And more space to run around and be a happy girl. I have a college fund to start building. I have a plan to take her to England and Ireland in 2 more summers. I have life insurance that must be obtained. I have responsibilities.

So I will still go to work. But I won't sacrifice any more time from her and her father than what is absolutely necessary. I really don't care one pee-daddle about my fancy degrees and experience and "advancing my career" and blah blah blah.

They don't mean shit when I look at her and help her count her own teeth that she's cutting and show her the new twinkle lights on her very own Christmas tree.

The End.