Making the Decision to Move

The Move – Part I

Back in January of this year, my brother called and had the crazy brilliant idea for Keaton to come and play with his select organization’s new 12 year old team.  I vaguely remember phrases like, “a few tournaments here or there” “not too expensive” etc.  All lies.  Well, okay, it could have been truth, but it was like crack to us – we quickly got addicted to the hill country and wanted to spend every weekend up here.

And we did.  From February until June almost every weekend was spent in Austin.  We went so much I started feeling guilty staying at my brother’s home so we’d stay in hotels and only stay with The Smith’s once a month.

We started feeling bummed out when our weekends were over.  We noticed how much cleaner and healthier everything up in Austin was compared to Houston.  How the people where nicer.  How when you pooped in Austin it just didn’t stink as bad…(okay not really that last one).  But check out this sky...who wouldn't want to enjoy some good ball with a background like that....

After counting pennies (not really, but close enough) to go one weekend, I looked at Michael and said, “Why don’t we just MOVE there?” 

I don’t recall his exact answer, but it was along the lines of “Yeah right.  Go ahead.  I’m staying here.”  And I’m pretty sure the words “I will NEVER leave Highlands” actually came from his lips.

And then the trailer park moved in.  Into our backyard.  Okay, maybe not in our backyard, but you can definitely see it from our backyard.  Essentially the neighbors behind us sold their home and the adjacent empty lot.  Some wise investor, super cheap family or maybe just a huge cult purchased the house and land.  When I say land, you have to understand this is just a normal sized residential lot we’re talking about here, it is a residential horseshoe type subdivision.  Only, come to find out, we AREN’T a subdivision, and Harris County does not currently have any regulations or codes that would prevent this sort of development from occurring. 

So…then they built the 10 foot privacy fence around the entire thing.  I’m all for privacy, but when you fence in the FRONT yard, you do seem sort of suspicious.  Maybe they were a cult, or meth cookers, or dog fighters or something.  It was unnerving. 

And then the 18 wheelers brought in the trailers.  2 single wide homes and a travel trailer were all squeezed into this little bitty (high security) box.  Directly behind our house.  The residents of this fine community can sit on their front porches of the trailer to enjoy a beer and then  make eye contact with me as a I float in my in ground pool.  Not fun for me.

About 35 people live there.  I’m pretty sure 20 of them are children.

I suspect that is what pushed Mike over the edge….the insta-trailer park.  Maybe it was just a coincidence, but I kid you not on our very next trip he said, “Okay, if we can sell the house and have jobs lined up, I’ll move.”  Oooooh, I was now a woman on a mission.   I felt a sudden surge of happiness and excitement at the prospect of moving and having an adventure.  I had always wanted to move, try something new.  Mike and I have both grown up and lived in the same home since birth (until we got together), so neither of us have ever had an experience with such "change".

That was in June and it’s now August and guess what?  We moved!

Stay tuned for Part II as I discuss the process of selling the home, getting jobs and actually making the move. 

Cleaning the Working Moms Ride...

Yesterday, I spent a half hour of my Sunday afternoon cleaning out my car.  This is not a pleasurable task for me.   Since I am a working mother, my free time is EXTREMELY valuable and just as limited.  So, I am very careful as to which activities I choose to participate in during those precious moments of freedom.  Cleaning out my car ranks very low on this list, much lower than say, napping, painting my toe nails, or reading those next few chapters in my book. 

To be more precise, on my own personal scale of priorities, cleaning out my car is somewhere between cleaning out the fridge and organizing my pantry.  Basically, you can consider it somewhere between 'once in a blue moon and never gonna happen.'   Recently however, I have found myself telling the children such things as, "Please don't kick trash out when you get out," "Pick up those M&Ms...I heard you spill them back there!" and even, "Don't get blood on the seat...." so I knew the dreaded chore needed to happen soon.

And since I found myself walking right passed my car yesterday, I figured, "Eh, what the heck."   Here is a list of just the highlights of what was discovered in the Rachell Wagon....

 - Loose, various candies scattered throughout the floorboard and the seat.  Mostly M&M's (I knew I heard those little brats darlings spill them), skittles, fun dip sticks caked with fun dip powder, and numerous other unidentifiable brands.  I particularly appreciate how the M&M's & Skittles melt into the upholstery and carpet and make pretty little designs.  Fun.

-Empty plastic grocery sacks.  Yeah, I tried to get on board with the reusable grocery bags, but considering how often I grocery shop, I would need about 85 just to load up all my purchases.  So I stick with plastic and try to lesson my guilt by imagining all the wonderful, useful ways in which I will reuse them at home.  Well, about 17 of them never made it out of the car.  And while it would have been a fabulous idea to have left them in my car as trash bags, puke bags, or even emergency bags for soiled clothing, I'm just not that organized.  No, these bags once held gallons of milk, tide laundry detergent or big jugs of orange juice, etc that I knew would not make it up my drive and in my house without having the flimsy plastic handles bust.  I simply opted to pull the handled object OUT of the bag and leave the empty bag in my car.  These did however, form a nice middle layer to the filth and junk of my floorboards.  So it wasn't a total waste.

-Various clothing items.  The bathing suit bottoms of a bikini my daughter wore once this summer was somehow wedged between the seat and the console hump.  I found two sweaters, numerous socks, a sundress, and all kinds of hair bows, all belonging to my daughter.  I found a few items for the boys, but not much.  Mostly socks.  And shoes.  What's bizarre about the shoes is there wasn't a complete pair.  Just 7 single shoes.  So, what this tells me is that my kids are stripping in the car, walking in half naked, with one shoe on and I don't even notice.

-Receipts.  About 47 gazillion of them.  And since I do not balance my checkbook with them or use them for tax reasons, you may ask yourself why the heck am I even keeping all these useless pieces of paper.  I know I wondered that myself at first.  But, upon closer inspection I have discovered their purpose.  They make excellent lipstick blotters, as evidenced upon the multiple lip prints colored throughout most of them.

-Feminine Products.  Lots and Lots.  I would say somewhere in the vicinity of about 20 different products.  All unused...or unused for their original purpose I should say.  The unopened ones, I'm 100% guilty of leaving in there.  I keep my purse in the back seat whenever I drive to work, and sometimes when I reach back to get it, it spills out everywhere.  And since I'm usually in a hurry, I only grab the big stuff, and the loose change, receipts, and tampons get lost in the abyss of my car.  The used items, however, are all the kid's fault.  None of my kids are menstruating these days, at least God I hope not, so they don't need them for that.  But, whenever one of my kids get a bloody nose, picks a scab or gets scratched on the elbow by their mean little sister, (and starts to bleed), they get the most absorbent thing Mommy can whip out of her purse.  Nine times out of ten, it's a tampon/maxi pad.  It's not the most popular choice amongst those dwelling in the back seat, but it's better than nothing.  And it keeps the fighting and scab picking to a minimum.

SAHM vs. Working Moms – Round 1

The benefits and downfalls of belonging to one of the two groups above have been debated repeatedly over the past decade.  As more and more moms enter the workplace, more and more opinions on the subject creep up out of the woodwork.

And honestly, I’m one of those people who can see both sides of the fence.  I just happen to live on one particular side, and while I may peak over and admire my friends in those seemingly greener pastures, it doesn’t take a lot of real life experience to know that this cow likes it right where she is. 

I have noticed, however, that while I do not find I am any better or worse a mother for choosing to have a career, I am a different kind of Mom.  No place illustrates exactly HOW different I am other than the morning drop off line at the local elementary school.

A day in the life would clearly exemplify my point, but I’m not so sure you can stomach it.  You see, morning around my house is not made of funny television sitcom stuff, or warm, fuzzy loving moments.  Morning in my house is better compared to one of the battle scenes in Pirates of the Caribbean.  A lot of chaos, confusion, and frustration exists, but there are also those redeeming qualities like hope, encouragement, and victory.  But, one kink in the plan and all hell breaks loose.  At the smallest sign of weakness I can and will, “RELEASE THE KRAKEN”.  And then everybody’s going down.

SAHMs definitely do not share my experiences on this front.  And I feel confident in this assumption because nine times out of ten, I’m sitting behind a SAHM when dropping my children off at school in the morning.  When I’m already late, of course.  And my kid just remembered they forgot their homework/book/jacket/backpack on the counter at home.  And I still need to get gas before jumping on the highway.  And it’s raining so I know there is going to be traffic.  Oh, and did I forget to mention my 9:00 am meeting?

And it never, ever fails.  Each and every SAHM follows the same routine.  The SAHM will put her vehicle in park, ease on out (usually in her PJs), walk, extremely slowly I might add, to the rear of her vehicle and open the door for her child.  Then little Jack/Jill slowly, like molasses, pours themselves out of the vehicle and into the loving arms of Mommy.  Sometimes, the SAHM even has to unbuckle the kid’s seatbelt.  The SAHM then hugs their child, because they are little angels of perfection of course, and it’s probably been a full six minutes since they last hugged them.  And it isn’t one of those quick little, “Mommy is in a hurry squeeze and go” hugs.  No, it’s a full on make out session hug with squeezing, kissing and head patting.  After the world’s longest hug is concluded, the SAHM then proceeds to do one of the following: fix the child’s hair, wipe dirt off the child’s face, tie shoe(s), adjust back pack, tuck in shirt, etc….the list can go on forever.  I’ve seen it all. 

After the final inspection is over, the SAHM then has to peel her child off of her once more, and spend the next 45 seconds convincing the child to walk into the front doors of the school alone, because Mommy has to get back in the car.  And sometimes, on those really bad days, the child will almost be in the door, and then will jet back behind the security guard for one last hug from Mommy.  Ugh.

The working moms, however, simply pull up to the curb, turn their heads to semi-see the kids in the back seat, blow some kisses, say those few magical phrases, “Bye kids!  I love you, behave and have a great day!”  All without even putting the car in park. 

Twelve years ago, I was slammed into a motherhood consisting mostly of kicking, screaming, blood, guts, and stretchmarks.  And that was just the first day.

I was just another statistic. A young, unwed mother. So young in fact, I was actually a young, unwed TEENAGE mother, *gasp*, although I try to leave that last little tidbit out in normal conversation. I mean, who really counts 19 as a teenager anyway?

Despite the mini human growing inside of my stomach, I managed to drag my suddenly fat ass down the halls of the local community college. Which, by the way, was NOT my original 'life' game plan. Or my parent's for that matter. Regardless, I gave birth the week of finals that first semester. And by give birth, I mean, have a 9 lb. 11 oz man-child ripped from my deepest guts while the little demon baby held on to my ribs in protest. Whoever says c-sections are the easy way out clearly did not share the same experience as me.

Life progressed from that point as one might expect. I was surrounded with obstacles: emotional, physical, & financial difficulties that a 19 year old isn't quite equipped to overcome. But we did. All three of us, quite successfully by the way. Me, my baby-daddy, & the baby. The baby-daddy, is now the husband, so he did make an honest woman out of me, although IT TOOK FOUR YEARS.

And here we are, 12 years, three kids, and too much drama to even count later, just as happy as can be. Most of the time at least.

We're a modern family, only without any of the interesting diversity that seems to have found it's way into our society. We are just an average Dick & Jane couple, all grown up, and with three little kiddo's.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not advocating teenage pregnancy. It was miserably tough, and full of more sacrifices and mistakes than I'd care to admit or remember. But, we survived it. And I know that we are, without doubt, better for it.

What makes us modern however, (besides being statistics) is that fact that both of us work, and have since our oldest was 2 years old. And, not only did we work, attend college in night school, and send our kids to daycare, but we did it all on our own and managed to create a stable, loving environment for our little family.  I'm a mom and I have a successful career outside the home.  I work as a paralegal for an Intellectual Property law firm in downtown Houston.  It's demanding, sometimes stressful, but very rewarding.  Kinda like my other life as a mom.  Finding the balance between those two worlds is my ultimate challenge; and surviving the chaos created when those world's collide is a constant hurdle I have to jump every day.

These writings are my thoughts, memories, and experiences of living this life I've created with my family. Just a little peak into the world of a modern day working mom, trying to balance her life, hopefully a little bit better than she balances her check book. (And not kill the husband or the kids in the process).