notes from a traveling mother

Last week Asher had his seventh and eighth plane rides, and I've flown as a solo parent for all but one of those flights. (Someone has to stay and work so we can afford to be the jet-setters we are, right?) So, as a relatively experienced single traveling mother, I've learned a few things.

Change that diaper before boarding. I forgot once and had to sit with a stinky, stinky babe until the pilot finally turned off the seat-belt light.

It's OK if your diaper bag is 20 pounds. It may be embarrassing, but I'd rather have 10 diapers and a bagful of toys on hand than be caught unprepared.

You'll never see your fellow passengers again. He may cry or fuss or even scream, and you certainly don't have time to worry about what the other travelers think. Be considerate when you can, but really, once you leave that plane and get your luggage, you'll never see them ever again.

{sleepy fingers, April 2013, lucky mom}

Nursing in public isn't the worst thing. I'm a private person and prefer not to breastfeed in public, but when I'm traveling with the babe it's going to happen. You can be discreet but not invisible, so some people may notice. They probably won't care, but they might. And if they do, don't worry about it. Like I said, you won't ever see them again.

Use the curbside check-in. I'm lucky if I can make a trip with a baby and pack only one suitcase. I'd rather pay a tip to the curb workers and have them meet me in line to take my bags and print off my boarding pass than haul two suitcases plus a car seat while pushing a stroller. You'll be glad you paid the $3 tip.

{sleepy fuzzy head, April 2013, really lucky mom}

Most people are nice. It's hard to travel alone with a baby (let alone children plural--I have no idea what that's like), and most people are really nice about it. I've had so many people play games with my babe, offer to help and carry things, and let me know that it's OK if my babe has a hard time on the plane. You don't have to expect the worst, because really, people aren't so bad.

Remember your plane has to land eventually. Even if your baby is the worst behaved he's ever been, your flight will end. You can even cry on the plane if you need to. No shame in that.

new normal

This week I made my first to-do list since Asher was born. It was a big moment for me. Its title? To-do before Mom and Dad come! (They fly in on Friday, by the way. At 1:45 p.m. That's three days away. Not that I'm counting. Wait, I have been counting for so long.)

I'm a big list person. I love making them and crossing off their contents. I know that lists will be a little different for me now that I have a babe, but regardless, making that list felt good. It felt normal.

Normal is a much more fluid term for me now that I'm an official stay-at-home-mom. Normal still includes doing my makeup and making the bed, but sometimes excludes straightening my hair or changing out of stretchy pants. Normal involves more snuggling and less hurrying. Normal means mid-morning walks, late afternoon naps, and meals whenever Asher fancies them. Normal doesn't necessarily mean checked-off lists anymore. Today normal is watching the season premier of Bones while folding laundry in my underwear.

{Grocery shopping with a buddy--part of my new normal}

Figuring out this new normal has had its highs and lows, and I've had many moments when I thought I'd never find it. But I'm starting to, even though I realize that normal will change on me all the time. If having a babe means balancing a fluctuating normal, then so be it, because Asher is here to stay and I couldn't be happier about it.

34ish weeks--a freak-out

I've been reading everything I can about birth, nursing, and babies, and I think I've reached the point where rather than informing me (which has been great), my reading is now freaking me out. I'm overwhelmed with the uncertainty of all this change in my immediate future, change that I know is coming but change that I don't really know.

Yes, I know that I'll be up in the middle of the night--probably all night sometimes--and I know that lots of days I'll feel like a zombie, but I don't really know how this will affect me emotionally or mentally. I don't know how I'll change.

My mind is flooded with questions: How long will it take me to find a routine? How will I know how to comfort and reach out to my babe? Will Josh and I ever have time for each other? And what about all that laundry? I hate laundry. And underlying everything, Will I be able to find balance, to find a way to be me in the metamorphosis of motherhood?

Babe has roughly six weeks before he debuts, and sometimes six weeks seems so far away and sometimes it feels so close that my heart starts palpitating and my mind blanks in panic. The bottom line is this: I've had months and months to prepare for this, and six weeks out I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing or what I'm going to be doing or how I'm going to do it.

Six weeks. Babe is coming whether or not I'm ready, and something tells me that I'll never be ready, so I might as well accept it now and trust that I'll figure out motherhood and me as I go.

I'm back!

Oh, readers, I feel like it's been forever. The past two weeks have had me in a whirlwind of happenings, leaving me in a current state of exhaustion and home-messiness, not to mention the 700 unread blog posts in my Google Reader (can you see that some blog-reading simplification is needed here?).

I have so much to tell you. I want to tell you about Rachelle's week-long visit, the perfect weather for a day-trip to the coast, Cupcake Jones, my part-time bookstore job, the beautiful autumn we've been having, my first truly aesthetically pleasing cake, Dracula being the perfect October book, and our first wedding anniversary.

For now I'll satiate your reader thirst (because I know you've been compulsively checking for a new post on this blog--right? Right?) with this month's 12-on-12. The pictures really were taken on the 12th; I honestly just didn't have time for putting the grid together and blogging it until today.

01. A clean stovetop and kitchen
02. An organized magazine basket
03. Cute flower panels hung above the laundry closet (I've had those plaques for almost a year and hadn't hung them up till now)
04. Some freelance writing research
05. A trimmed pattern for a fall dress
06. The cute wall-art I bought at Homegoods using Shoppers' Math
07. The fall dress pattern all cut out, ready to be sewn
08. Changing leaves by Costco
09. Work--does anyone else find the Twilight-esque covers for works of classic literature a little off-putting? I mean, we talking Jane Austen here. Come on.
10. A mint truffle with some Dracula in the airport waiting area
11. The inside of my trunk (this deserves its own blog post entirely and involves a resourceful Nancy-Drew-like break-in into my car while wearing a skirt)
12. I thought I had 12 photos at this point in the evening and didn't--obviously.

I've had a fun few weeks, but honestly, I can't wait to find normalcy again. Tomorrow my priority plans involve cleaning the bathroom and folding laundry, and I'm positively giddy about it.

the airport bag

By the time this posts, I'll be in California ready to soak in the rays and the magic of Disney Land with the Wilsons. As I'm writing this I have about four and a half hours before I have to wake up to go to the airport, so most of my packing and preparation happened tonight.

When I travel I make sure that my carry-on is replete with satisfactory entertainment. Remember when I forgot to bring the second book to work? Same principle. Thus, my airport bag contains two books, two embroidery projects, and one iPod. For a two- to three-hour flight. I'm totally ready.

finding a fit

Let's get a few things straight: I may not have enjoyed very much what I do at my job; however, I have very much enjoyed having a job. Jobs are hard to come by right now, and I have been grateful every day for the job that I have. And even though my duties haven't been anything glamorous, doing my job well is very important to me.

So you can imagine the conflicted feelings I had when my supervisor informed me that the company is ending my contract in lieu of hiring a gallery director (for our lower floor) who will absorb my responsibilities. This was unexpected and carries a few contrasting emotions. Since I started this job, the end seemed indefinite, and so I tried to adjust accordingly. Now all of a sudden, I have one week left with nothing lined up to follow.

In many ways, this change is a relief. Perhaps now I can devote more time and energy toward looking for a job that better fits my skill set and that's closer to home.

When I think about this new unknown in our life, part of me fills with anxiety. I hate job searching, because it's so full of rejection and dead-ends. Also, we've really come to enjoy the reassurance that comes with that extra cushion of income each week. The other part of me, though, fills with the anticipation that so often accompanies opportunity.

{via}

I feel . . . released. I feel like I have the opportunity to find a job that fits, maybe in not every way, but in at least some ways.

Yes, I will not miss this particular job, but I will miss having a job. So here's to opportunity, finding a fit, and maybe sneaking to the pool for some reading in the interim.

a life catalogued in notebooks

The weekly planning notebook: Where I figure out my weekly essentials, necessities, and nice-to-dos

 

The list notebook: Where I write my grocery lists, project supply lists, driving directions, and sewing pattern lists (I keep this in my purse with a pen all the time)

The journal notebook: Where I write personal thoughts, notes, and reflections

And finally, the budget notebook: Where I allocate and track the money we spend (is it archaic that I shy away from computer budgeting software?)

If I had been lucky enough to be taken up in the Rapture and no one would ever hear from me again, anything anyone would want to know about the day-to-day life of this girl could likely be found in one of these notebooks. While my hand-written systems may seem outdated, it works. And I like it.

employment, adjustment, and a black mamba

Yes, I have a job! One of the temp agencies I'm using set me up with a couple of interviews, and about two weeks ago I was officially hired as the office manager for iDL Worldwide, a company that designs in-store fixtures and displays for their clients. It's a very creative and team-based environment, and I think I'll have a lot of room to grow and even use my writing and editing background. So while it's not a premium editing job, it's the right job for me right now.

Here are some of the things I've been up to the past few days of employment:

:: First days always make me a little nervous.

:: But I did okay. I'm the first office manager they've had, so I'll get to define my role in many ways.
:: I spend my days here now.

:: I think it's pretty cool.
:: I've been slowly getting my desk put together.

:: They stock Mexican Coca-Cola here (made with real sugar cane). Plus every other Coke product imaginable. They're free.

:: I've been taking the bus, but yesterday I couldn't find the stop when I was ready to go home. It was cold, windy, and rainy, and I called Josh crying.
:: He came to pick me up.
:: I found refuge in Powell's in the meantime.
:: I'm having to adjust to working full-time.
:: I feel like I'll never be able to plan and make dinner again with my days cut so short.
:: Today we had a black mamba in the office.

:: It was part of a client presentation.
:: Don't worry--it was de-venomed.
:: I was terrified and simultaneously fascinated.
:: Here's another mamba picture for you.

:: Black mambas can slither up to 14 mph.

makes me happy 006

Lists make me happy. More specifically, crossing items off on lists makes me happy.

With a wedding coming up I've been doing lots of list-making. In addition to this list (I glean so much satisfaction from seeing all those crossed-out lines), I've made one for Josh of things to do before he leaves for the wedding, one of things for me to do in Colorado for the wedding, and one of things to remember to pack for wedding week and the cruise. In addition to written lists, I have several mental lists going on. While things may be overwhelming sometimes, it's all made easier with lists!

here's the thing

So, here's the thing. I need a job. Ideally an editing or writing one.In fact, I really to want to work. I've been looking everywhere. And I've accepted the likely possibility that I won't find something directly dealing in my favorite field. I've had a few interviews. But nothing has panned out yet.

And then I wonder if I'm being too picky. Because, you see, I really don't want to work in retail. I'm okay with reception or an office job. I've done that before. I worked my way through school and then really hard to do well in school. I graduated from a prestigious university with a marketable degree and marketable skills. I don't want to settle. I really don't.

But I still need a job.

Then, what if I'm just being a job diva? Because if I settle too much I'll wonder what the point of college was if I don't do anything with it. (That mentality hints at drama queen.) Has a college degree made me stuck up? Should I settle, at least temporarily? How much settling is too much? How do I know where to draw the line between validating my education/skills and flat snobbery?

So. I need a job. But it's not as simple as that. So, that's the thing.

now I'm really a resident

A couple of weeks ago I went and got one of these:

With a library card now I'm really a resident of the Portland area! So yesterday I went back up the library to pick up these books I have on hold.

Josh and I are going to be a budget-conscious couple. We're going to seriously rock the numbers.

a moment

{epiphany: an appearance or manifestation especially of a divine being}

3 Nephi 19:26

"And Jesus said unto them

pray on;

nevertheless they did not cease to pray."

officially moving in

I'm officially moving into the apartment tonight. Really all that means is that I'm moving my suitcase and box that I brought from Colorado into the apartment, because all of my other stuff is there already.

So today I drove Josh to work so I could use the car, and I made a huge Target run. Like, huge. Whenever I moved into student apartments there would already be a trash can, vacuum, and broom. But here, in a real apartment? I needed to go and buy all those things.

The game plan from here? Unpack my clothes (finally--I've been living on the clothes from just one suitcase for the past three weeks). Unpack the kitchen. Unpack whatever else I can given that we have no furniture in the apartment aside from a hand-me-down couch and two chairs courtesy of Josh's parents.

And then I'll have to vacuum. With the new vacuum.

PS--My camera is still hiding. . . . I'm getting a pit in my stomach here. Like, really.

real people weekend

Yesterday we bought a bed.
And a mattress.
And a {small} dining room set.
Like, real furniture.
It's really pretty.
It'll be here in a few weeks.
I cut my hair.
Nothing crazy, though.
Just straight-across bangs.
I'd post a picture.
But my camera's hiding.
Don't worry.
I'll find it.
I was almost offered a job.
At the LOFT.
40- or 50-percent employee discount.
I know.
But then I was rejected.
Oh well.
Back to the resumes.
I went to church today.
My new ward.
I'll like it here.
But I'll be glad to get a routine.
I haven't looked at the new countdown in a while.
I think it'll be in the forties again this week.
(The countdown.
Not the weather.)

moving out: the packing

I'm moved out of Provo and Utah forever. It started with something like this

and this.

So naturally I had to take breaks for things like this

and this.

I often felt like this (i.e. completely exasperated).

But, after everything (well, almost everything--I was forced to give away to friends and/or take to DI several items) was shoe-horned into the Trailblazer, I was left with this

And when I left Provo, Utah, at 5:00 on Saturday morning, I wasn't really.that sad. I was relieved, excited, and very slightly nostalgic. I saw the first hints of the sunrise over the tips of the mountains and smiled. I was leaving to start the rest of my life.

the plan

With the new wedding date, here's my new plan.

I just moved all my stuff to Oregon.

Then Dad and I drove to Colorado.

Now I'm home for a couple of weeks.

Then I'm going back to Oregon to live there until the wedding. You know what that means? I'll get to see Josh every day. I pretty much love it that this long-distance engagement is coming to a close and that Josh and I will be able to be like a normal engaged couple for a little while.

PS--Where did all the commenters go??

my real life take 2

Once again I fell into self-doubt and second-guessing my life and decisions. I try to trust myself but often find I can't. I've never felt this way before and this mentality has never been a serious problem for me, but lately I haven't been feeling good enough. Isn't that awful? Isn't that just how Satan wants me to feel?

So I read President Uchtdorf's talk to the Relief Society about how happiness is our heritage, and I made some goals. I talked to my sister, who empathized and understood. I read a devotional given by Elder Holland two years ago about "remembering Lot's wife." Sister Holland, back when the she and her husband were just about my age, said, "The future holds everything hopeful for us." I need to remember that the future holds everything hopeful for me.

Yes, I'm scared about my post-graduation life, because I don't see the plan, and the plan I have for myself is short-reaching because that's all I can see. Yes, I sometimes feel like I'm stepping into the dark. Yes, it's hard sometimes to make my own happiness, but it is possible. I can't be like Lot's wife and yearn for the past when retrospectively things seemed easier, because like Elder Holland said, "Faith is of the future. Faith builds on the past but never longs to stay there."

In these moments, brief or prolonged, when I feel scared and little and just not good enough, I'll remember that the future holds everything for me. Everything.

Take that, Satan.

my real life

My life—the big-picture stuff—has all been planned up until this point, the point of my collegiate exit. I have only a couple of more months before I live out the rest of that life plan, and after that, everything seems uncertain. I've been able to postpone quasi-adulthood with my summer New Era internship, but after that, I don't know how I can avoid "real life." But really, isn't "real life" such a flawed term, anyway? Because the life I lead right here and right now is my real life, regardless of how "adult" or otherwise it is at any given moment.

So in living my real life, I'm facing an aspect of living I've never had to encounter before. I've always been able to steer clear of a long-term 9-to-5 job, car insurance, and a mortgage. Even the rent I've paid for my college apartments has been subsidized by living with three other girls. The real life I'm living is facing impending and unfamiliar change; I don't think I've ever experienced a change as significant as the one I'll experience in my transition from college student to quasi-adult. I feel like every decision I'm making right now has life-altering ramifications.

Sometimes when the world seems so overwhelmingly vast and I seem so unbelievingly small, I want to rail to the universe and cry, "Just give me a plan!!" That's all I need. Except that I'm wrong. I rarely know what I really need; because when I think I know what I need I get something else that makes sense only later.

In those moments when I doubt and question myself and my place and role in the world, at least I can fall back on the knowledge that I'm a daughter of God, who is a divine and exalted being, and it's my destiny to become like Him. In those moments when I second-guess my potential and underestimate my abilities and worth, at least I can know that I have a Heavenly Father who knows my true potential and worth better than I do, a Father who will never lose faith or hope or confidence in me because I'm His child. He believes in me because that's who He is.

And in those inevitable moments of blank uncertainty, once I feel the comfort of a loving Heavenly Father, then I can take a step back and go on listening to HP on my iPod.

more quasi-adulthood

One of the things I need to do to better secure my place in the quasi-adult world is to find a job, a real job, a career (gasp!). So I went to the career fair on campus today.

Armed with my Viva Glam V lip gloss and a stack of resumes, I made my way to the Wilkinson Center Ballroom and entered the crazy hubbub of recruiters and students.

The thing about editing is that it's not limited to magazines and publishing houses; many companies' HR departments have editors who work on their literature and other such things. However, these companies, when they come recruiting, don't always advertise for those kinds of jobs: they promote their engineering, accounting, and programming positions, not their HR editors. I went around to several booths and got to state, "Hi, I'm Charlotte. What is your company?" And then I'd say, "I'm an editor. Is there anywhere I'd fit in your business?" Sometimes the answer was no, but I got a few brochures and handed out a resume or two. If anything, I felt more proactive and less scared about impending "real life."

And you know, if all else fails, at least I have Kraft, the maker of my all-time favorite college food. I'm glad to have a back-up plan.

Transition

Signs that I'm progressing to quasi-adulthood:

• I'm reading through health care plans
• I have the utilities in my name
• I deal with mistaken loan disbursements and resulting exorbitant charges from the school
• I make sure that my prescriptions are filled where they need to be
• I'm considering a Roth IRA

For the record, I do do my own laundry. I've been doing this for a while, but it's a crucial step to quasi-adulthood. I feel I should put that down.

And yet, despite impending quasi-adulthood, I still find myself listening to HP in the mornings.