fourstonesoup.com

For those of you who do not know the whole story, here it is in summary form:

1) Upon the birth of my first child, I quit my job as a teacher because I was VERY idealistic and ridiculously naive and I was very confident I would be a great mother, stay-at-home wife and person and when the perfect moment arrived, I would fall right back into teaching with my stellar credentials and reliable contacts.

2) Eventually, we sold the starter home we had been living in (right as the economy was tanking) to live in a teeny tiny rental house on family property thinking this would allow me the opportunity to continue to stay at home with our two small-ish children and actually survive on my husband’s meager salary whilst enjoying the benefits of living next door to Bryan’s granddad, picking fruit from the trees, eating blueberries off the bushes and climbing trees in our back yard.

3) Our salary was slashed (woohoo!) for about a year as Bryan’s company tried to stay afloat.  Our children both started full-time school and I dipped a toe into the waters of employment…cautiously.  Nothing happened.  Recently, Bryan’s salary went back to it’s former meager glory.

4) Both of my kids are in full-time school and I am still unemployed.  I have dabbled in professional photography (meaning people pay me to take their pictures) and have done fairly well so far but it by NO means substantiates a large income and in it’s infancy state, my business is a lot of giving and not so much the taking (as in padding our account).  I realize that this is perfectly normal for a budding business and I am not exactly parading around drumming up customers but…

I am tired of being a one income family.

I really, really am.

I would LOVE to have some disposable income.  I would love to not worry as the bills come in.  I would love to not have to nickel and dime everything.

But there are literally NO jobs for teachers around here.  And I’m not exactly swimming with potential as an employee, am I?

My resume reads like this:

1) I am rilly,rilly smart.  Like no, seriously.  Whaa???  NO, I PROMISE!  In all of those standardized tests, I always scored in the 95%-ile.  Whaa??  Those things don’t COUNT?  IN REAL LIFE?  Shit.

2) I am quasi-creative.  I write.  Well, I string together somewhat amusing sentences using lots of dashes (because my comma usage—well, it’s questionable).  Oh, wait, no.  I don’t exactly have any experience in actual writing and this blog isn’t exactly widely read (Hello, most readers who know me in real life and live within a fifty mile radius of my house) and my view numbers are…not exponentially high.  Um…no.  I haven’t actually studied any fabled writers.  And I have no experience with writing anything but this blog.  And I have nothing very interesting to say.  But I do read a lot…of books and blogs.  That counts, right?  I’m not even going to pretend I can cook, clean or parent well.  Perhaps I can write a photojournalistic column with a snarky view on parenting.  Yeah!  That’s not a tired schtick, right?  And editors should be KNOCKING on my DOOR to edit my grammatically-nightmarish submissions

Crap.

BUT!  I do photography.  People pay me REAL CASH MONEY to take pictures and photoshop the hell out of those pictures!  I mean, sure.  The point *could* be made that I spend about five or more hours on each photoshoot and the editing.  So that puts me at the average wage of….a Target employee.  And TONS of people “do photography” on the side, as evidenced by the “like” pages of my friends on facebook.  Um…I mean…

WELL FINE!  I can paste and glue and cut like a mofo.  Seriously, I am the Queen of Glitter.  I went through an entire FOUR YEARS of COLLEGE devoted to learning how to teach kids how to glue in a developmentally-appropriate way.

But…er…those aren’t exactly skills most businesses desire?

3) I AM SNARKY, SARCASTIC and IRREVERENT!  What?  Isn’t that what EVERYONE wants in a future employee?  No?  But I’m Witty!  Where are you going?

4) Errrr…I…er…I

I am so underwhelming.

And unemployed.

And depressed now.

Crap.

We are so screwed.

Today is Malyn’s birthday.  And she’s 5.

I delivered cupcakes to her class for her birthday today and she clung to me while she ate her cheesy nachos and drank her strawberry milk, pausing occasionally to say, “I love you, Mom!” and “Thanks for bringing me birthday cupcakes!” and “Don’t you think we need to check on the cupcakes?”

She asked if I would come play on the playground and slide on the slides with her during recess and knowing my daughter and knowing that walking away to a playground filled with friends, swings and sugar highs (from the brightly colored icing) would be much easier for her than me leaving after the fun of recess is over and the dregs of the day begin, I hugged her tight, told her I had birthday surprises to wrap and watched her skip away happily.  And my heart broke.

When I was a little girl, I would walk in from school eager to shed the constraints of the day.  I looked forward to getting off the bus to a snack, some cartoons and play.  Sometimes, my Mom would pester me about changing my school clothes (something I DREADED) and picking up my bedroom (ALSO DREADED) and I would stall, whine, complain or ignore in my quest to avoid those dreaded chores.  Sometimes she would start to get that ’serious’ voice and I have vivid memories of her saying, “Gracie, you get in your bedroom RIGHT NOW and change your clothes and clean up your bedroom or YOU’RE GROUNDED, young lady!”  I imagine her amusement tinged in there with the put-on sternness.  I would sulkily oblige and trudge down the hall and s   l   o   w   l    y open the door…to a completely sparklingly clean room.  She had cleaned it while I was at school as a surprise.  I remember it being the BEST feeling in the world as I raced back to my now grinning Mom to squeeze her in a big hug and thank her excitedly.

All of these thoughts tumbled through my head as I stood in the doorway of my little’s girl’s bedroom.  It is messy–full of detritus from her games, little squiggly pieces of papers from her creations and stickers and tape sticking random bits of ideas and drawings to everything.  And so I sat down and started filtering through her possessions.  Her toys, her artwork, her school papers and her stuffed animals…all the little pieces of her life.  I stacked and organized and folded and staged and swept.  And when the last blanket had been arranged on her bed and the last dress hung back up, I surveyed my work.  She will be so excited.

Malyn, a couple of days old

Almost 1 year old

Two year old Girl

Three was a good year for us

Four was full of ENERGY

Oh, 5, you are already breaking my heart