Monthly Archive

For the first time in twelve years of marriage, Sean is working normal hours:  Monday through Friday, 8 AM to 4 PM.  What a blessing for our family to have him home for supper every night!  He will be able to attend school meetings and programs!  People in the community might actually believe that I have a husband!  We will be like a normal family!

Okay, maybe that’s pushing it.

Besides, it throws a major wrench in our employment configuration.  Working opposite hours has been great for avoiding childcare costs.  I did some calling to price out part time daycare for our toddler and preschooler, and it turns out I’d basically be working to pay for daycare. 

So I’m hanging up the plastic apron. 

I had a hard time with it the first couple of days after I made the decision.  I’ll miss seeing the kids and drawing silly pictures on the menu board and telling cheesy food jokes.  I also liked being the staff guitar player and bringing home leftovers.  But I won’t miss the sweaty dishwashing or the repetitive complaining from my supervisor.

And I’m looking forward to being at home full time with my little ones again.  Yes, the hours are grueling and it’s not all rainbows and butterflies, but it is definitely my comfort zone.  I’ve spent a bunch of years making peace with the job description.  It will also allow me to be home for the occasional business call for Cady Home Inspection and to perhaps pursue some portrait photography.

Hard to say what lies ahead.  Lots of shifting, that’s for sure. 

My close and wonderful friends M. and K. are about six weeks away from becoming a family of three.  Last week, they let me document their beautiful baby belly, and these are a few of my favorites from a session that took about two hours.  I had a fabulous time. It helped that they were patient and willing subjects.

It’s funny that I find it difficult to be verbal when I get into shooting.  I don’t know how photographers can be chatty or even just communicate clearly while directing a photo session.  My ability to speak coherently more or less evaporates when I’m in the photography zone.  Must be a right brain/left brain thing. 

The next day, M. called me with an idea and some encouragement.  He thought that other couples, such as the ones they know through a birthing class, might be interested in the same type of photo shoot.  He was willing to bring their photos along to their next class and give me a plug, but they do live 50+ miles away, so he encouraged me to think about advertising to couples going through classes at my local hospitals.  It was a welcome vote of confidence.

I’ve spent the last few days browsing the web for photographers that offer similar services, to get an idea of what they are providing, and for how much.

I am looking at photographers who offer “on location” services.  Most do the typical babies, children, and family, senior portraits.  A few I’ve looked at: Kari Layland Photography, Kristi Eckrich, As Seen By Eileen.  Interesting that I found Kari Layland because she volunteers her services for families with seriously ill children, and she did a photo session with a family I know who is battling leukemia.  What a wonderful way to give a gift (and build a portfolio!).

I’ve toed this line before.  I attempted to start a business in what I called “candid portraiture” about six years ago, when I was working for Herff Jones and had access to their lighting equipment and backdrops and a medium format camera.  The idea was to make pictures that are similar to the ones I make of my kids all the time.  Everyday moments, rather than formal posing.  Simply follow around kids and capture what they’re up to while they enjoy the comfort and nuances of their daily environment. 

The same things that held me back then hold me back now: laziness and self-doubt mixed ironically with an overinflated sense of artistic superiority.  

I also found that I deplore the follow up process of getting photos touched up and ordered and printed.  What if I offered a flat fee session and then handed over a disk and let them worry about altering their zits and getting prints made?  I suppose there’s more money to made on the altering and mark up of prints.  And that way, they will be high quality prints instead of Target prints.  I guess it would be the excuse to finally master Photoshop.

I’m ready to abandon the artistic superiority.  I can hardly keep that up when what I really need is to be making money to help support my family.  What’s really in question here is my commitment to overcome laziness and self-doubt.  

I think I need a cheering section to get me going.  Lots of people telling me that it’s a worthwhile effort, that I can make beautiful pictures that people will want.  I’ve always thrived on positive feedback and encouragement.

Anyone want to volunteer?

Leaving the last two of my wisdom teeth in place until I’m 30.  In some circles, that would be considered unwise.

I finally let my dentist write a referral for oral surgery and last week I had them removed.  To save money and recovery time (and to prove that I was unafraid, I think), I opted to be awake for the surgery, with laughing gas. 

I want you to appreciate what a hard core decision that was.

As the drill vibrated my skull and I listened to my impacted lower tooth being cracked apart and ripped out in chunks, I kept forgetting to take deep breaths in from my nose and missed out on the full effects of the gas, I believe.  I braced myself and sweated through my clothes despite the air conditioning and being dressed for August weather.

Soon the drill hit a portion of my root that had not been completely numbed.  The surgeon was very good about asking me if I could feel this or that throughout, so he was able to intervene with painkiller to spare me.  He narrated every move he made, and at one point he prepared me for feeling some pressure and a burn.  It wouldn’t have surprised me to see him pull out a blow torch out of his arsenal. 

My favorite part was getting my after-care instructions before I could even stand up. The sheer volume of novacaine in my system was causing my body to twitch and shake.  I went back over my pages of instructions later, and I really love this one: Keep your head elevated to reduce swelling.

Well that sure put a damper on my plan to walk around in a handstand for the rest of the week.

I’m sure that many others before me have considered the larger metaphor at work here–the whole idea of ripping out teeth that are named to represent ”wisdom.”  How interesting that normally these teeth are removed before they have the chance to develop and take root.  And cause problems.

Imagine that, wisdom causing problems.  Wonder what sort of commentary Adam and Eve might have on that.

Or maybe it is actually what we mistake for wisdom that causes the problems: when we think we know it all and have it all figured out.  False wisdom.  For me right now, false wisdom takes the form of the negative self-talk I’ve mastered so beautifully.

You’re always going to be broke. It’s actually more noble than being rich and you can be self-righteous about it. 

If you try to pass yourself off as an artist or a writer, everyone will see that you’re just a fake.

Wisdom teeth, and false wisdom, are like bad habits. The longer we let them grow and develop, the more problems they cause and the more difficult the surgery is to remove them.  We become attached.  Even when we can see what problems they are causing, we can become afraid of what it will take to remove them.

Interestingly, my early path into parenthood is what prevented me from having my wisdom teeth removed when I was 17.  I was nursing a baby at the time and couldn’t picture how the drugs and drama of the procedure would fit in taking care of a baby. 

I allowed my wisdom teeth to take hold, and I recall feeling more than a little rebellious about it.  How adolescent of me. The pamphlet at the oral surgery office says that wisdom teeth are named because they erupt during the “age of wisdom.”  Of course!  When we know it all!

After my stitch was placed and I bit down on a gauze pad, I had this unexplainable urge to undo what had just been done.  I wanted to say, “I’ve changed my mind. Please put them back.”  And it would have sounded ridiculous, I’m sure.  Muffled by blood and drool and gauze and laughing gas.  

I’m rather glad that there isn’t an option to put them back, and that I’m not in danger of growing new wisdom teeth. Because there’s no way I’d be going back for more oral surgery.

It leaves me wondering how I can permanently remove the false wisdom plauguing me.  I have the sense that God is leading the surgical team on this one.  And that it will require courage and resolve and a time for healing.

It’s time to ask for a referral.   

June 11, 2007

I did something stupid and now I look like an idiot to everyone at the school where I work.

I heard a rumor that one of the paraprofessionals (classroom assistant) was leaving her job. She and I get along very well and I felt comfortable calling her directly to find out if it was true.  I left a message with another member of her household.  (Just my name and number.) 

You should know that in a small town like this one, these para jobs are highly sought-after.  There aren’t a lot of good-paying, part-time jobs available in a town with a population of 1200. Para positions usually end up getting filled within hours of being vacated (which happens like once every twenty million years when someone retires or dies) so I wanted to be sure to get my name in right away, in case the rumor turned out to be true.

I decided to leave a note for the principal–acknowledging that it was only a rumor but stating that I would be interested in the position if it becomes available. I also asked a couple of teachers if they would give me a good reference.  They were all so encouraging and it felt warm and fuzzy to hear some praise.  I thought, “This is why it was a good idea to work summer school–so that I could be around to hear about an opportunity like this.”  And it felt so good to hear encouraging words that I couldn’t help but mention it (of course) to some other staff, who were also very encouraging.

You all know where this is going, right? 

Well, she called me back tonight, and you guessed it: the rumor wasn’t true. 

It’s like I’m living in a fable.  You know, the one where a rumor starts out being true and then gets twisted for dramatic effect.  I play the part of some foolish hen on the street.  Except, I not only come off looking foolish, but also like some sort of rumor-mongering would-be job-stealing blood-sucking hen.

Honestly, I don’t know if I want to go back to working in the kitchen. I loved working in a classroom this summer, and I had high hopes that it was a step in the right direction. 

As a para this summer, I especially enjoyed helping kids who are in danger of falling through the cracks.  Many of the students I worked with are just a cut above special ed.  They need extra help, but they don’t qualify for special services. 

And what a difference working with fabulously talented and pleasant teachers like Ms. G and Ms. H versus working with a direct supervisor who is a Complainer.  And a Repeater.  Did I mention that she repeats every detail of every complaint? And then she just has to repeat it, rephrasing it a bit but saying essentially the same thing.  And then she says it again because she just seems to have to fill the space with her complaints.

When I thought that a para position was opening up, I really felt like it was a gift from God. An answer to a prayer and an answer to the question:”What am I supposed to be doing?” I was even feeling peaceful about being passed over (at least that’s what I assume–no word, posting has disappeared) for the graphic designer position I interviewed for a few weeks ago. It was all making sense.

Now I just feel shitty.

For being a shitty little vampire hen.  For being unable–still–to start filling in the financial hole we’ve been digging for the past twelve years.  For being unhappy and ungrateful.  For setting myself up for disappointment.  For being arrogant enough to think that my prayer was going to be answered with the very thing I wanted. 

Sigh.