I’ve had plenty of time to think of this, especially during the first year of my time as a stay at home mother. I loved my job. When Aidan was small and the challenges of new motherhood seemed so much bigger than I was capable of handling, I wondered if I wasn’t a little crazy to give up my much-beloved career.

After all, what did it say about me that I was willing to trade in an engaging career for a never ending river of spit-up?

Don’t get me wrong, staying at home with Aidan has been and will always be the right move. It’s in line with my goals and priorities as a parent, it fulfills me in ways no career ever could, and I can see the benefits of it every time Aidan decides to behave himself.

The writing certainly helps. I have a stimulating hobby that manages to not only give me a creative outlet but also makes me feel like I’m still doing something tangibly worthwhile with my time. It helps. And it’s fun.

Now that I’m pregnant and have let my writing simmer on the back burner, that old post-feminist pestering is back. My ambitious nature goads me daily, telling me I should be working, not napping. That I’m willingly letting my dreams get hijacked by two little people who don’t even realize it.

Someone I follow on Twitter recently asked whether it was always necessary to choose between kids and goals, and why that was. I notice a lot of my peers struggling with this same frustration. They have goals, dreams, and ambitions and feel stymied by the limitations incumbent to a mother with young children.

I struggle with this myself. I hesitated to get pregnant again because I had so much I wanted to do first. Finish another book, get another book published and out there, maybe attend another writer’s conference.

Instead, I got pregnant again because it was important to us that our children be close enough in age to be able to relate and enjoy a relationship with each other.

All that to say, what ultimately made the decision for me was having a hard discussion with myself about my priorities. My kids are my most important priority. Everything else comes second. Not because I think my darling precious angels are the be-all end-all of my existence, but because they deserve to be my focus right now. I am half responsible for bringing them into the world so I darn well owe them the best I can possibly offer.

If that means my writing will have to wait until they’re both in school to really get going, I’m cool with that.

There. Struggle over.

The disservice I think post-feminism does women my age is it makes us feel like choosing our children is weakness of character. Like if we settle for anything less than running ourselves ragged trying to raise great kids and have ambitious careers all while wearing the jeans we wore in high school, we’re doing it wrong. Settling for less.

And what I think it’s producing is a lot of guilty women who are at war with their circumstances. If you only have a set number of hours in the day and trying to fit everything in is making you crabby and miserable, prioritize and let things go.

That’s my take on it, anyway. Maybe I’m just a big ol’ quitter. If so, at least I’m a big ol’ quitter who’s happy. I’ll take happy over stressed out and miserable any day of the week.

My goals and ambitions will still be there waiting for me when I have time for them again. My little kids, however, who need love and attention and guidance? Won’t be.

I had fun, because those three people had to like me.  I’m not terribly articulate, and often think of too many words at the same time and trip over them, but the three people we interviewed were not allowed to think I was a blundering weirdo.  Because I was doing the interviews.  Mwa ha ha ha!

We met some nice people, found a really awesome person who we think will totally bring it, and I’m counting the whole thing as a win.  My co-workers are taking us out to dinner on Friday night to say goodbye to me, and I have faith I’m leaving them in good hands.

As for my new career, however…Well, it’s entirely in my hands now.  I’m reading my new book, 2010 Novel & Short Story Writer’s Market, and taking notes like crazy.  I kinda feel like I’m cramming for a degree in creative writing, but I’m learning a lot so that’s good.

Things like character arcs (I’ve never had one of those), 3 act structures (black moment ha-what?!), and literary agents (I need one).  I’m taking the whole getting published thing as seriously as I can, and that means researching and learning.  This can only help, so long as I don’t allow myself to get intimidated.

To be honest, the whole prospect of entering short story contests (a great way to get your name out there. Winning gives you credibility and makes publishers and agents more likely to look at you) or attending conferences is a bit daunting.  But, the best thing to do to get started is to take a step.  Then another, then another.

So that’s what I’ll be doing.  High-stepping my way to…Something.

In NaNoWriMo news, I’m up to 37,278 words.  My plot’s holding steady under the deluge, though I’ll definitely have to go back and fix some stuff at the beginning.  My hope is that I’ll finish it and then not hate it when I re-visit it in a few weeks.  Revision is hard enough, but it’s even harder when you absolutely hate everything you’ve written!

And with that, I leave you with an entirely unsatisfying ending.  Because I wrote over 2,500 words today and I’m fresh out of really satisfying anythings.

Perhaps the sweetest person was Wes, who came home yesterday bearing chocolate, a how-to-get-paid-for-your-fiction book, and the news that he purchased a laptop for me!  I can finally realize my dream of being able to write while sitting in a coffee shop, and lo, it will be sweet.

I was afraid that by declaring my intention to pursue publication to the universe that I would psych myself into being too intimidated, but thankfully my novel is still scooting right along.  I stopped writing at 26,130 words this morning, which makes me a little over halfway done with my NaNoWriMo word count!

Truthfully, I see this novel going longer than 50K, and it’ll likely finish up at around 75K.  Which means I’m not halfway at all.  But I’m going to celebrate anyway.

While I write away, I’m also wrapping up my work for Bottle Your Brand.  Because the work I do for them requires such a specific skill set, I’ve volunteered to sift through the resumes of applicants in hopes of finding them some good candidates.

It’s been almost three years since I was a recruiter, but I’m pleased to say that those skills stick around for a good long while.  I continue to be appalled, however, by the laziness of some job applicants.

People who don’t update their resumes, who send form cover letters, whose job experience doesn’t even remotely match the job.  If I can offer any advice to job seekers, it’s this:

• Personalize your cover letter to the job you’re applying for.  Start by explaining what about the job and company you’re excited about.  Hiring managers like to know that you think their company is cool.  Then go on to specify what exactly about your previous work experience qualifies you for the job you want.  Keep it short and awesome.
• If you’re going to include an objective section in your resume, customize that section for the job you’re applying for.  No one cares that you’re looking to grow your skills with a thriving company.
• Don’t get too familiar in the tone of your cover letter.  You’re not getting invited to a kegger, so why would you think a hiring manager would care about your favorite kind of beer?

I kid you not, someone actually wrote down their favorite kind of beer in their cover letter.  What is this world coming to?

But!  I felt cool yesterday.  I felt cool because I spent the day hanging out in a Seattle loft, helping out at a photography shoot for my company.  We needed some new product shots, so we hired what may be the best commercial photographer in the whole state and booked half a day with him.

This loft was just so cool, you guys.  It was in this funky, ancient old Seattle building, and to get to the loft we had to ascend these tiny, weirdly tilted stairs and then walk down a hallway, the walls of which were adorned by all kinds of cool photos and artwork.  The work space itself, I guess you’d call it a studio, was large and full of cool props and light parachute-type-things.

My co-worker (her name’s Cindy) and I hauled a whole truck’s worth of props up those weird stairs and set to work.  Five hours later, we were all exhausted but had some shots that make our products look so pretty they should be featured in magazines like Martha Stewart Living and, um, Oprah and stuff.

Of course, being at a photo shoot all day necessitated being away from my little Aidan, which was tough.  By the time I got home I was craving the smell of his little baby head and I also had so much milk backed up that I thought I was literally going to explode and douse my car with breastmilk.

Nevertheless.  I spent the day in a cool Seattle loft.  And no one puked on me.  And I saw what may have been a meth head standing at the corner of the freeway on-ramp.  How cool am I?  So cool.

So far, whether or not a college education is valuable appears to be largely determined by how much debt you incur during the course of your studies.  One rule of thumb I found particularly helpful was the following:

If your annual income your first year out of school is not greater than or at the very least equal to the total amount of your student loans, your degree probably isn’t worth it.

So, if Aidan wants to go to university to study Russian literature, I’ll probably discourage the notion.  He can read all the Tolstoy and Dostoevsky he wants in his spare time without garnering thousands of dollars in debt for the privilege.

I heard from a lot of people who didn’t take on any debt while in college, and they all said they enjoyed college and found the experience very valuable.  Truthfully?  If I hadn’t had to work so much while in school and hadn’t graduated in so much debt, I probably would have enjoyed it a lot more too.

The people I talked to who graduated in debt, however, were a lot less glowing in their reviews of the experience.  One person cracked me up with her suggestion that we stand on the side of a freeway offramp with a sign that read, “I graduated with a liberal arts degree.  Any bit helps!”

As for the idea that a college degree is the new high school degree, I’m starting to wonder if that’s an idea propagated by college admissions departments.  I’ve just met and talked to so many people who are successful and never finished college, the argument doesn’t seem to hold water.

It stands to reason that if you interview well, network your tail off, and do your job well, you stand as much of a chance of getting hired as anyone who graduated college.  How else can you explain a college drop-out who makes $80,000 a year doing Web design existing in the same city as the college graduate earning $35,000 a year doing data entry?

The gist of the conclusion I’ve drawn from this discussion is that if someone else is footing the bill for your college education, study whatever you want and enjoy yourself.  If you’re signing your life away in exchange for college credits, though, you’d better make sure you’re majoring in something that’ll pay well.  Or, just get really used to the idea of using half your monthly income every month to pay for your student loans.

In exchange for my student loans, the payments of which eat up a substantial amount of our monthly income, I have a degree in psychology from a respected institution.  And self respect and blah blah blah.

What I have to wonder is, what is really the value of that degree?  I know not everyone goes the whole graduate-get-a-job-get-married-have-beautiful-babies-stay-home-with-beautiful-babies route, so maybe this isn’t applicable to anyone but me, but I am curious: Was my college degree worth the tens of thousands of dollars I paid for it?

Wes and I were discussing this the other day and are at a bit of an impasse.  He went to college but didn’t graduate.  He started off studying music composition, left school to pursue an internship, started working full time, and never went back.  Then, when his sales career took a nosedive thanks to the economy, he went to a trade school, got the proper certifications, and now he makes way more than I ever will.

His education took him less than a year, cost a quarter as much as mine did, and he makes more than twice as much per year as I’ve ever made his first year out of school.

Obviously, Wes is not everybody (because he’s awesome), but if this kind of thing is possible, is it even worth it to get a four year degree if you’re paying for it yourself?

I suppose you could say that my degree enabled me to get a job out of college, and that if I hadn’t gotten that job, I never would have hated my job, started blogging, and then switched to blogging as a career.  I have to wonder, however, if I wouldn’t have found blogging some other way.  You certainly don’t need a degree to be a successful blogger.

The reason this is on my mind is, having one parent who graduated college and another parent who didn’t presents an odd example to our kids.  I mean, can I reasonably make a case that it’s important to graduate from college when I’m no longer sold on the value of a college education myself?

(This is obviously not an applicable discussion when applied to careers that require advanced degrees, such as doctors, therapists, lawyers, brain scientists, etc.)

My degree was fun to earn, and I learned a lot, but I can’t honestly say that college prepared me for the working world any more than any of the jobs I held during school.  I can tell you how to correctly cite an academic article in an APA style paper, but I have never used that skill outside a classroom.

What do you think?  Am I just jaded by huge student loan payments, or are college degrees worth it?

This discussion is continued in part 2, which you can read here.

I believe I’ve written before about how, even though ostensibly I’m a stay at home mom with oodles of spare time, I still seem to keep stumbling into black holes that eat up my day before I’ve even finished my morning coffee.

He's a little disgusted by how quickly I ate that English muffin.

For example, let’s look at Friday.  I had a dentist appointment on Friday, at 9:30 in the morning.  I woke up later than I should have, and spent 45 minutes frantically getting dressed, placating the baby, scarfing an English muffin, feeding the baby, and then scooting out the door as quickly as my denim-clad legs could carry me.  I dropped Aidan off with Wes’ mom, did the whole dentist thing, went back to get Aidan, came home, put him down for a nap, and ate lunch.  By then it was 1 in the afternoon, and the only thing I’d accomplished was going to the dentist.

Sad panda!

As ridiculous as my days seem to me now, I do manage to squeeze in some worthwhile stuff (you know, besides keeping my baby alive and nurturing him toward greatness and all that).  I went into work during Aidan’s nap time last week and it felt great.  For one, I have a really sweet computer set-up there (dual monitors!!!) and for another, I have some fabulous coworkers.

I spent two hours building new pages for the website and problem solving and when I went home I felt energized and refreshed.  If nothing else, it confirmed for me that even though there are definitely days when I would much rather take a nap than get some work done, working (even my paltry five hours a week) is essential to helping me feel fulfilled as a mother.

Aidan, working on being more stimulating.

I mean, for sure my baby occupies a staggering amount of my brain power.  I’m trying to figure out a nap schedule for him right now and it’s eating my brain, and don’t even get me started in trying to figure out an organizational system to keep up with how fast he outgrows clothes.

But, having work problems to solve stimulates other parts of my brain, and that’s making me very happy indeed.

Job hunting sucks.

It sucks hardcore.  It is the single most frustrating, harrowing, life-shortening thing ever.  Sure, I should probably add a disclaimer about how lucky we are that looking for a job is our biggest worry right now as opposed to life and death health issues or a tyrannous government, but dude.  I’m not a saint.

Wes has been looking for a job for four weeks now.  He’s had some great interviews, taken countless phone calls from recruiters and hiring managers, and had at least three people tell him enthusiastically and with much sincerity that he’s perfect for the job and can expect an offer soon.

And now he has an offer.  A very, very good offer.  An offer that he just accepted for a job he starts work at tomorrow.

CAN I GET A FREAKING HALLELUJAH?!?!?!

Let me tell you a little something, dear readers: The relief over here at Casa de Mitchell is freaking palpable.  Wes gets to wake up tomorrow, get dressed, and head off to work like the other sleepless masses and he couldn’t be happier about it.

After all the late nights spent at school, and all the interviews and applications, Wes is done.  He has a job.  And he’s going to rock it.

Join me in congratulating my tireless, attractive, geek superstar husband, won’t you?

Today was my second day back to work after an epic two weeks off, and so far both days have thoroughly kicked my behind.  My poor brain, which has been used to a daily nap right around mid-afternoon, keeps politely tugging on my sleeve and inquiring when we’ll get to rest while I struggle to make sense on the phone and keep my hair from catching fire.

Not helping matters is my sudden fondness for insomnia between the dastardly hours of 2 AM and 4 AM.  I was awake during those hours this very morning because my freaking feet were too hot.  I mean, is that not the lamest freaking excuse ever for not being able to sleep?

I kid you not, the alarm clock felt like nothing so much as a sledgehammer right to my face this morning.

This made work an interesting proposition today.  I have been officially relieved of my additional duties as my colleague is now back from her maternity leave, and I was a little worried that this meant I wouldn’t have enough to do.

This is where the universe laughs at my expense.

It turns out that all my responsibilities that I hadn’t quite had time to get to because I was doing another person’s job didn’t disappear.  They were quietly biding their time in the corner and they all jumped me en masse today.  I have to admit, I thoroughly enjoyed it.

Wes has also been really busy.  He’s gotten numerous calls from recruiters, all of whom have jobs they assure him he’s perfect for.  He’s had three phone interviews and one actual interview, and he is one hot little tamale as he balances out phone calls, sending out his resume for new jobs, interviews, and skills assessments.

It’s so encouraging to know that his skills and talents make him hireable.  We have no idea which, if any, of these job opportunities will pan out but it puts him back in action and I think he’s enjoying the heck out of it.

If I were way lame I’d totally stick a sports analogy in right there.  Something about benches and getting back in the game.  Because I’m lame in an entirely different way, I’ll just say that it’s good to see him so flustered and busy.  He’s worked really hard to get to this point.

As I stare down January, in all its fresh start, resolution-ridden, cold weather profuse glory, I can’t help but feel a bit apprehensive.  January means a little something more for us this year.  It means we have two months (maybe less) to get a lot of stuff figured out before everything we know changes.

I…well, it’s very safe to say I dislike change.  I don’t like switching jobs, I keep an extremely clean house because I don’t like it when things move, and if a plan changes I get upset if I don’t have time to process it first.  It’s borderline autistic, but it’s how I get things done.

As January begins with February hot on its heels, I’m feeling ever so slightly out of my league.  I know my life right now.  I’m a wife, a daughter, a sister, a friend, and an employee.  I’d like to think I’m pretty darn good at these roles.  I have no idea how I’m going to be as a mother.

I’m fairly certain that becoming a mother won’t change much how I behave as a daughter, a sister, or a friend, but it’s sure as heck going to change my role as a wife and employee.  These two roles are the most pervasive in my day to day life, and the upcoming shift has me feeling a little unprepared.

I make no secret of the fact that I love my job.  I love what I do, I adore the people I work with, it’s all around just very good sauce.  They’ve been patient with me in establishing my plan for when the baby is here, which is good since I’ve tried very hard to not think about what I’m going to do once Squishy is here.

I mean, it’s just so difficult to imagine what life is going to be like once this little baby is out and about.  I can easily imagine working.  I know all about that.  I have no idea about motherhood.

I’m sure there are some people who slip into motherhood like it’s a warm bath they’ve been looking forward to all day.  I hope I’m one of them.  I just feel like I’ve never seen a bath before and have no idea how deep it is because of all the bubbles.  And rubber duckies.  And I don’t know how to swim.  And did I mention the bubbles?

Obviously this baby is going to come whether I’m ready or not, and I’ll jump in with both feet because that’s how I roll.  But for now, in this deep breath before the plunge (a.k.a. the last eight weeks of pregnancy) I feel like it’s the first day of kindergarten and I’m not quite sure how to behave on the playground just yet.

So there you go.  How do I feel about my impending motherhood?  Bubble baths and playgrounds.  That just about sums it up.