My Life of What Ifs

Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Be careful what you wish for...

... because sometimes you get the opposite.

I'm not sure if it was a wish, or just a statement. But my mother often quotes me as saying "I'm going to have two boys." Obviously this is something I said long ago. Long before I gave birth to two girls. Long before those two girls turned almost nine and five and decided that they hated each other. Long before bedroom doors were slammed repeatedly throughout the day. Long before I thought being a pseudo stay-at-home-mom for the summer was a great idea.

Today for instance was a day where my work at home environment was less than ideal. In addition to my blog I also write for a local newspaper and a news website. If that isn't all time-consuming enough I have also decided to start my own business. My to-do list today consisted of a blog post, a chick-lit post, and some work on a website for my business. If you take a look at the time stamp on this post you should be able to get a feel for how my day went.

I sat down around noon when my girls were out front riding their bikes. This allowed me a whopping 15 minutes of productivity. Just as I found my groove in came tweedle-dee and tweedle-dum, all adrift in sisterly bliss. "We had so much fun Mama!"my oldest exclaimed. "Ryann pulled my bike around by hooking the jump rope to it!" Jayden added. "We would stay out there, but it's starting to rain. We are going to play with barbies." Drat. For some reason indoor play is bad news. The air in here is tainted with bad vibes, vibes that make sisters turn on each other.

I wasn't even allowed to find my groove when it started. "Mama, Ryann has the baby that I want!" (Hmmm, what happened to Barbies?) "I had it first!"Ryann responded. (Oh Ryann, you're older, I have to doc you points for that old, overused, rebuttal.) "But they're twins and I want one of them!" (Jayden we don't separate twins, they grow up troubled.) "Fine, I'm not playing with you anymore!" (Again, who trained this child in the fine art of sibling fighting? The oldest never gives in, and if you do please use more style.) A few slammed doors and one slap later (oldest to youngest, on the arm) I had been pushed too far. When my threats and punishments did no good I resorted to my own old, overused, rebuttal. I called Daddy.

He was at work. I learned long ago not to call Cory at work in a fit of crazy. I don't call him with the hopes that the children will cower at the thought of their Dad driving home to start the beatings. I don't call him so he can yell at them on speakerphone. Really, I can handle them on my own. Eventually. I call him for their safety. I call him so he can talk me off the ledge and keep me from posting his two beautiful daughters on ebay (with free shipping!) I call him so he will realize what it's like being home all day in this estrogen ocean (thank you Jeff Foxworthy) while trying to start, revive, maintain a career. I call him so he will bring me home an iced mocha from Starbucks, because secretly that's all I need to be happy. I'm a simple being. But the girls shouldn't screw with me on a non-Starbucks day.

Anywho... Cory saved me, or he saved the girls, and I accomplished nothing until about 9 pm. Now here I sit wondering if two boys would have really made a difference, and if espresso after five pm is really such a great idea. Be careful what you wish for...
Stacy

Sunday, June 28, 2009

New Endeavor

I've got a new gig. I'm the National Chick Literature examiner at examiner.com. You can find me here. Check back regularly, and share with your chick lit reading friends!

qfvwpteb3s
Stacy

Tuesday, June 23, 2009

Creative Writing (Take 1)

He came into my work to see me. I found this odd because I couldn't recall telling him anything about the greenhouse I had been hired at for the summer.

I was in the process of trying to find a cart to unload some flats of flowers when I saw him. Our eyes met and I kept walking, right on past him. His disappointment was instant and obvious but my decision to keep walking took no thought.

As I continued to look for a cart I saw him sitting and waiting for me. But I felt no hesitation or inclination to acknowledge him beyond that initial look.

Eventually he walked out of the shop. He didn't seem disappointed or angry really, he looked at peace, like he had his answer about me, about everything. Then I woke up and I realized I had mine as well.
Stacy

Friday, June 19, 2009

Where I've Been

So, the blog has been neglected lately. There are two main reasons for my absence. One, the last few weeks of school for my daughter were nutty. I went with her on a field trip to The Henry Ford Museum and Greenfield Village. I volunteered at her field day. I've gone to soccer games, and soccer end-of-season parties. I've worked at the flower shop, although I really think I'm done there for now- I think.

But the other main reason is that I have been writing, just not here. I have been writing for a local newspaper. I've done a few features, and been to a few township and school board meetings. I really love it, although I spent most of today writing a story, and editing it, and tweaking it, and when it's all said and done I've probably make about $1.50 a hour on this assignment, but who's counting?

I figured in order to prove my excuse I'd link to some of my work. I won't win any awards, but I'm still happy.

My Debut

And then...

Finally.
Stacy

Monday, June 8, 2009

simple

I've said it before and I will say it again. The excitement I receive from realizing I will experience the joy of feeling shaven legs on clean sheets is paramount. Today I took the time to shave and change the sheets, now try to tell me I won't slumber peacefully. Go ahead, try.
Stacy

Thursday, June 4, 2009

Who knew? What if?

Today I am wondering "what if?" Seems appropriate doesn't it, given the name of my blog and all. I am wondering what if because it seems my job at the flower shop/garden center/greenhouse is slowing down, or coming to a close, however you want to describe less hours.

For the last two months I have run around that place like a crazy woman. I have averaged about 25 hours a week and now it has become apparent that either due to the bad economy or the screwy Michigan weather, business is not blooming in the flower industry. Yesterday was apparently so slow they told me I didn't have to come in at all.

The funny thing is- I'm fine with that. The job totally served it's purpose and if I only work one day a week for them or just as needed, I am still very happy that I did it at all. I met some super nice people. I saw that a family run business still has it's place in today's world of "box" stores. I learned the value of "growing your own" plants and standing behind your product. I learned to treat each potted petunia and hanging basket as if it was going in my own yard. Most of all I learned purpose. I learned that I can do just about anything, if I want to give it a try. So what I am saying is that if I actually asked "What if I hadn't applied at five greenhouses in town and been hired at the one that seemed like the longest shot?" Well, the answer is I would have missed out on a great learning experience.

I would have missed out on the chance to move. Yes, move, I can't even imagine the miles I put on my sneakers in the last two months. It has felt great! I would have missed out on the chance to learn even more about flowers and plants. Who knew there were that many colors of Coleus? Who knew a plant named Lophospermum could attract hummingbirds and be so beautiful? Who knew I could create flower artwork in my own patio pots that didn't consist of a geranium, some vinca vine and a spike? Who knew sweet potato vine was so pretty? Who knew I could have a farmer's tan that I would be proud of? Yeah, who knew? What if? Very valid questions and the story of my life.

Working at the flowerland has changed me, and I wouldn't trade the experience for anything. If they ask me to come back and help in the fall, the winter or next year I will do so eagerly. Because you can't place a dollar amount on the value of a job well done. Near six figure salaries do not compare to personal pride in beautiful, hard work that is appreciated by those in charge. Using your brain, treating people with kindness when they have a question, and sleeping well when you lay down at night have no monetary value. But the sense of self-worth they give you out pays the rest any day.
Stacy

Wednesday, June 3, 2009

Oh yeah

This makes me very happy. Four years was long enough.

My favorite is "My Baby Blue".

Confess I'm not quite ready to be left
Still, I know I gave my level best
You give, you give, to this I can attest
You made me, you made me
You and me forever, baby

Oh and R.I.P. Leroi Moore aka "GrooGrux".
Stacy

Tuesday, June 2, 2009

An Endless Race

I'm not an athletic person by any means. I wish I was. I wish I was like my friend Molly who has taken up running again, really running. Like now she is entering races, running. Maybe I can do that at some point but right now I feel like I am in an endless race.

This race is my life, or maybe it's in my head. No, it's not all in my head. Who knows. When I say I'm racing I'm actually referring more to the longevity of a distance race, not the speed of the race. I'm not moving fast, but I am constantly moving. Moving from one problem solving mission to another. Whether it be about making money, or writing something others want to read, or cleaning the house, it's always something. Most days I just keep on truckin' without giving it much thought, convinced that my payout or reward is just around the corner. Other days I wonder how long I can keep running without any end in sight, wondering when my body, or my mind is going to give out and say enough.

Today I am tired. I was up until after 1 am. The school board meeting I covered for the paper ended just before 10 pm last night. By the time I wrote the brief and drove home it was midnight. Today I am frustrated. The paper itself is listed in the byline for my brief, not me. I suppose that as long as I get paid it's not a big deal, but the visual of it this morning flipped the switch inside of me that sends me spiraling. My meds are sitting at Target and I really need to go pick them up. My family doctor scaled back the anxiety meds and now I really know that that was a bad idea, something about "addiction factor". Well I'm thinking more about the 13 days left in the month.

School is almost out for Ryann and this is Jayden's last week at daycare. I need to go get her ready and take her there but I don't have it in me. I don't want to go anywhere, but I have to work today at 2. I want to sleep. I want to read magazines. I want the race to be over so I can enjoy the now instead of waiting for the later.
Stacy