It's all a matter of perspective

I finally understand how people forget to eat. I have never been able to fathom how someone could possibly forget the most important thing in life---eating. But now that I have two little ones that I feel like I am either constantly preparing food for, feeding food to, or cleaning food off, I see how this happens. After lunch is over and I am sitting at the computer working on stories for the Standard, I will think, "Why am I so hungry?" And then I will remember it's because I didn't eat anything besides bites of squash to see if they were too hot, and one spurned half-eaten (and disgusting) chicken nugget. (Why can I still not fit into my pre-second-pregnancy jeans?)

On another subject, the past couple of months I started to get mom-derlust. I wanted to change my life from mommy-centered to career centered. Sometimes as a mom I start to feel picked on. I think "Woe is me. Poor Stephanie, stuck in this house with crying children, not using her brain, unable to have a career, unable to exercise regularly, unable to even shower regularly." I start thinking that "If only I had a real job (instead of correspondent work for the paper), then things would be better."

Two things happened this past little bit that have helped me to change my perspective and count my blessings. One was at a correspondent meeting (we have these kind-of-monthly meetings for everyone who writes independently for the Standard), where everyone was talking about really liking how independent they were. I was thinking that day how annoying it was that my editors never gave me assignments (on the city side I find my own), and how they never responded, how I always had to hunt them down, and how. . . complain complain. I didn't think how glad I should be that I don't have bosses breathing down my neck ordering me around.

The next was when my sports editor asked me if I would consider a full-time job with the paper. I was so excited! This would be the answer to my whines (not prayers, whines), and I could be so cool, a real writer, make more money, be famous (yeah, at the Standard I'm sure fame is automatically awarded to staff writers). So I wrote this big email to him asking more questions, and telling him what I wanted to do. As I asked more questions about hours and expectations for a full time job, or even a part time job as an employee, I finally wrote, "Actually things are pretty sweet how they are now." And that was it.

Things are really sweet how they are now. I am my own boss. I don't have to do weekend assignments, or night assignments if I don't want. I don't have to do anything except when I want to do it. I get to play with my girls and rearrange work around them. If they get sick I can stay home with them. If I need to do something that uses my brain, I can. If I want to go to the library with them instead of write a story, I can. If I want to go on a run (with my crappy double jogger) then I do. If I want to be creative and paid for it, I can. I am truly the captain of my soul.
It's all a matter of perspective. :)

Look at these charmers: Who wouldn't want to stay home all the time with them? (Okay maybe not all the time. I really do cherish my mommy-alone time.)


These are some fun pics from the Hooper park. This park is truly amazing. A moment in time. All the playground equipment is really old, serious stuff. None of the plastic "safe" stuff. All dangerous-looking metal and tires. It is my favorite! Mike and I took the girls there last week when we had some free time in the evening. It was so fun to hear them giggle on the swings.