The Mommies' Diaries…Parenting, One Blog at a Time.

I am not Amish.  But every once in a while I do enjoy channeling my inner Mennonite and trying something simple, or at the very least, completely back-to-basics and non-technological.

This month’s project was making homemade jam.  We had an overabundance of strawberries from our berry picking outing and I thought this was a perfect opportunity to engage in something hands-on and a bit primitive. What could be more authentic than a ritual like canning the harvest? What could be simpler than three ingredients?  What could be more quaint and old-fashioned?

To begin my journey to a simpler time, I got in my SUV (Hybrid!) and headed to Target.  I needed supplies like jars, lids and rings.  And sugar.  Oh, and a big non-reactive pot to cook my jam. And special jar-grabbing tongs and other things with a registered trademark. And four more pieces of equipment that I didn’t have as suggested by a website on preserving that accepted PayPal.

I hurried home. Among all the various methods by which my parents tried to kill me as a child — no seat belt, defrosting meat on the counter and cheese 70′s variety shows — botulism from my mother’s attempts at home canning was not among them so I figured I could probably handle the safety aspect.  I Googled “strawberry jam” and downloaded a pdf file with explicit instructions.

The first step was to sterilize the jars. This could be done with the special setting on my dishwasher. Next, I was to boil the fruit, sugar and water on the stove and let the recipe work it’s magic. Thinking I was being particularly Amish-y, I decided to double the recipe and feed the whole village with my jelly.

This did not work so well. Instead of a thick, delicious strawberry jam, I seemed to have produced my own suburban wine-label — cheap, sickeningly sweet, slightly fermented fruit with subtle tones of Kool-Aid and the alcohol content of Listerine and vanilla extract. I immediately called my local ATF followed by the 1-800 number on the box of mason jars.

All was not lost, a helpful customer service rep said from her cubicle in a Long Island office park. She explained that all I had to do was add pectin, re-cook and voila!  Old-fashioned strawberry jam would at last be mine.  Another trip to the store more pectin, new lids and rings, additional sugar and when the digital thermometer registered 218.5 degrees, a perfect marmalade would be staring at me!

Lo and behold, it worked and I now am the proud owner of a dozen quilted-glass stamped jelly jars of thick, twice-boiled fruit and sugar that may or may not kill me and my family.

All tallied, I spent $78, 12 kilowatt hours, 7 gallons of gasoline and about a thousand terabytes of bandwidth for my simple homemade jam.

Yep, just like the Amish used to make.

Okay, so here it is 3 weeks after my last day at the hospital ~ I’ve had my week long vacation in Seattle with my daughter, I’ve come back and completely engulfed myself in photography sessions (9 in 9 days!), and now I have sat down to tackle the processing of said sessions and began to tackle my “self-employment” to-do list… ummm… yeah. I don’t see the balance in my life that I thought would come from not working “full-time”. I am working “full-time”. In fact, I have no idea how I was working a 40+ hour a week job on top of my business 3 weeks ago! Good, right? Yes… definitely, no doubt. I want this volume of work! But prioritizing my own life is turning out to be a little more challenging than prioritizing at “work”.

Being laid off and coming face to face with my business came with a lot of uncertainties. Here is my list:

1- Health Insurance (BIG DEAL!)
2- Unemployment applications
3- Unemployment income while trying build a business with income, how does this affect me?
4- Cash flow of business income as opposed to regular paychecks every 2 weeks
5- Getting serious about booking clients
6- Getting serious about having the proper forms in place, contracts to protect myself, etc.
7- Beginning to materialize real marketing campaigns
8- Understanding how many clients I need per month / per year to succeed
9- Formulating a TRUE business plan, something that I’ve done in recent years, but was not as detailed as it should be.
10- Redoing branding, to truly represent who I am and what I offer
11- Streamline workflow to make myself more efficient

There is more, I know there is… this is just a sample of the To-Do list that is SO important, yet feels slightly scary because I haven’t yet found the time to tackle most of it. I started at the top. Health Insurance ~ CHECK! Got my card in the mail today. I’ve been so fortunate to work for Sutter Health and have had the BEST health insurance known to man (I believed anyway). Never paid anything, even through a pregnancy, delivery, hospital stay, post-partum care, TWO surgeries, pediatric care… nothing. So to be faced with possibly not being accepted because of “pre-existing conditions” was certainly scary! Card in hand as of today, I feel blessed. I’m okay with paying $40 office visits and a high deductible for everything else ~ it’s worth it to go after my dream. Unemployment, check! Filed and approved. I am running my own business, but since my “day job” was my main source of income, and I was laid off, I am eligible. I have no idea what is in store for me, so it’s tricky understanding the system in this case. I know I need to report what I make from my business to the state and they will deduct what I am paid based on that, and that is fine. It’s just nice to know I have the safety net for a while if it’s not working out for me. Times. Are. Tough. Period. We all know this. Navigating this new realm is well… scary too.

I used to get a paycheck every two weeks ~ that predictable schedule makes it easy for everyone to pay their bills when they are due, have money automatically withdrawn for your car payment, etc… now that has changed as well. If I’m not producing and selling, I’m not making income. This is all on me! Whoa. It has only been 3 weeks (2 if you don’t count my trip to Seattle), so I’m definitely cutting myself some slack. I know that finding the balance will take time ~ finding what pace is right for me… shooting lots, then pulling back to process them all and sending out the galleries close together? Or shooting only a couple, working on those, etc? I’ll have to see what feels right for me. This is so wonderful, but so new! I’m used to being up every night until 1am, 2am sometimes. I now get to choose if I want to go to bed at a reasonable time, or keep working, and that choice in and of itself is FANTASTIC!

I won’t go on about the other things on my list… I just put those there to talk about the multitude of things that I am realizing I must tackle, and not because I have to, but because I can ~ because I have this opportunity to truly make a difference in my life and make this business a reality, and a success story. The thing that I am most excited about, aside from getting to play with kids and their families everyday (because THAT ROCKS), is getting to be with my daughter more. I still keep her on the same daycare schedule, but I get an extra day with her a week. On top of that, my time with her doesn’t feel as rushed anymore. I am so grateful, and truly feel a shift in my relationship with her. I am blessed, and pray every day now that I can keep this up ~ so that I can continue to be ever more present in my daughter’s life… and my own.

DJ planted her entire right hand on top of the urinal drain in our neighborhood park’s public restroom today.  I wasn’t sure whether to vomit, or douse her entire body with soap, first.  DISGUSTING.

At almost 23 months old, my daughter is officially potty-trained.  I have encountered enough astounded reactions to recognize that this is quite a feat at her age.  I sure wish I could take credit for being a super mom…but, really, I didn’t have much to do with it at all.  DJ literally potty trained herself.  And yes, I realize that I am both extremely lucky, and in no way guaranteed that our next child will be this determined when it comes to saying adios to Pampers.

Several months ago, I overheard two moms at the park talking about potty training.  One of them said, “Americans are lazy.  The reason why kids are potty trained so late here is because no one wants to take the time to teach their kids to use the potty.”  I was immediately offended.  After all, how could anyone accuse me of being lazy?  I work my tail off chasing, teaching, loving, entertaining, feeding and dressing DJ every day.  Furthermore, I thought to myself, “How can potty training be any more difficult than dealing with diapers is?”

I am learning that whenever parents with older children speak, I should be listening.  While I might not always agree with their opinions – they are wise.  They’ve already been where I am going.  Rather than being offended and planning my rebuttal, I should be taking notes!  This potty training thing has been exhausting – and the only two reasons why I haven’t resisted it are because 1) DJ has been insistent, and 2) because I was hell-bent on not falling into the “lazy parent” category.

Here’s the real truth….I actually tried to be lazy for as long as I could.  Despite DJ’s growing opposition toward wearing diapers, I wasn’t willing to commit to spending three days in the house (Yes, I was a total believer in the 3-day method as I had heard so many success stories).  I even reasoned that big-girl panties weren’t in the family budget (Yep, those ten bucks would’ve really put us over the edge!).  Anyhow, I kicked and screamed, dug my heels in and thought, “She’s too young anyway.”

Well, DJ had other plans.  She knew she’d wear me down soon enough through her ridiculous tantrums each time I laid her out on the changing table.  She knew that I couldn’t leave the house if she took it upon herself to strip down to her birthday suit, hiding her pants under her bed.  “OK, OK, I get it – you’re ready kid.”

So, in less than a weekend – without being on any version of house arrest, DJ went from a Pamper’s Princess to a Potty Prima Donna.  Just like that, in a snap, she became a very big girl, who didn’t waste a moment letting others know just how grown up she was.  She has not only enjoyed parading around the house in her Paul Frank panties, but went as far as swinging them around her finger, high in the air for all the other kids to see, in the changing room after today’s swim lesson.  “LOOK AT ME!  I’M A BIG GIRL!”

I guess she deserves to feel proud.  She truly did set the goal on her own, and achieved it the same way.  All I did was follow her queues (eventually).  And I’ll admit it, I am totally proud of her, too.  Of course, I am certain (hopeful, anyway) that this little triumph is just a window into her lifelong astuteness.

However, in the spirit of being completely candid….and in sharing my wisdom now that I’m here, and you might not yet be, take note of the following:

-       Do not ask your child at the most inopportune times if they need to pee-pee, because they have the right to say yes, and then you’re screwed.

-       Don’t freak out the first time your kid refuses to use a public restroom and compromise by allowing them to use the travel potty in the backseat of your car.  They will think it’s hilarious, and want to remove their pants each time they get in the car.

-       Do not allow yourself to get so disturbed by the condition of a public restroom that you allow your child to pop a squat outside the door of said restroom, as this will only encourage them to mark their territory wherever they go.

-       Do not choose a potty reward that’s larger than an M&M, or more valuable than a penny.  Kids are smart, and they will collect…..big time.

-       Do not put Puppy Piddle Pads under your child while they nap, it just pisses them off.

-       Diapers really are more convenient than a child learning how to control their bladder is.  Savor the smeared on diaper poop for as long as you can.

-       Whatever you do, DO NOT compare your child, or yourself, to ANYONE else.

All of our children are different.  They do things at their own pace.  We need only listen, watch and guide them.  When they’re ready, they’re ready.  While DJ might have mastered this one earlier than others, I can guarantee you that most of her friends aren’t still requiring they be rocked to sleep every.single.night.

As we approached the security line at SFO, the butterflies in my tummy were all a flutter. I’ve flown many many times without batting an eye, but on this day, I had my almost 3 year old with me who has never set foot in an airport or on an airplane. Allie knew we were going to “fly like a birdie” to Seattle, but of course had very little concept of what that actually meant. Allie was already throwing a little fit as we approached the security line and I was finding myself wondering why I thought it was a good idea to book this trip. A few months ago I decided we needed to go to Seattle to visit our family. I hadn’t been up there since I was pregnant and it was a regular yearly trip before then. I thought it would be great to take a vacation right after my job at the hospital would be ending, take some time to decompress, just hang out with family and take Allie on this fabulous adventure with her first plane ride! Then here I was standing at the entrance to the security line thinking I must have been out of my mind! What had I gotten myself into?

Okay, I totally get our national security issues and appreciate the measures that are in place ~ but poor Allie doesn’t understand any of it, let alone why they had to take Pooh Bear from her AND I had to take off her shoes. This is a girl who ALWAYS takes of her shoes when I don’t want her too… but of course all hell broke loose when I took them off combined with losing Pooh Bear for a minute. Within seconds we were in full meltdown mode and I couldn’t fold the stroller up enough to fit through the scanner… while trying to get one of the agents to help me, I’ve got Allie in tears, totally confused by all the activity around her. Fortunately, I’d realized that I serendipitously landed in the Family and Extra Assistance security line. The family behind me was having the same difficulty and the folks getting assistance in wheelchairs looked at me with compassion and patience. I had no clue this line even existed and I totally stumbled into it! I took a deep breath, got everything through the conveyer, made up a story about Pooh Bear needing extra attention to be able to get on the plane with us, walked us through the metal detector together and just like that passed a major milestone in my life… getting through airport security with a toddler for the first time. WE DID IT!

I had received so much advice about traveling with Allie. I brought a well charged iphone, a portable DVD player, crayons, paper, books and snacks… and benadryl, just in case. She was having a grand old time on the plane, so much so that she was TOO excited and not using her inside voice (not even close). I had envisioned a crying Allie, but not an wound up, excited, screaming Allie. I know that the method I chose to handle this may be somewhat frowned upon, but I’d received the “Benadryl” advice from so many people that I felt comfortable giving her a small dose. Only problem is, we were already 45 minutes into the flight. By the time we landed she’d only been asleep for 45 minutes and was totally groggy. I felt like such a bad mommy! She was so upset and let everyone know… the tears flowed as we exited the plane… Parenting sure is a guessing game sometimes. I don’t like that I felt I had to turn to Benadryl and I know some people frown on this, but I’m learning.

Fast forward a week to our return flight. Sea-Tac also has a family line, yahoo! I felt much more efficient in my ability to get through ~ gave Allie the Pooh Bear pep talk ahead of time and she placed him in the bin Made it onto the plane without incident, but again she immediately got over excited and started screaming (loudly). This time she also started throwing her crayons, paper and books onto the floor. I made the decision to give her Benadryl again (I know, I know), but this time right before take-off. She slept the entire flight and woke up rested and not cranky like the first time. She was out of it a little, but was okay. I still do question whether the Benadryl thing is the right thing to do. I hope that all future flights she will be a perfect angel… like next year when we fly to (gulp…) New Zealand. o_O

Happy Travels to all you rockstar parents that fly with your little ones this summer!

I always loved grocery shopping with my Mom. I saw any invitation into a store as an opportunity to coax a treat out of her. I had to have something…anything. A piece of gum from the 25 cent machine? A new coloring book? Shoelaces?…it didn’t matter.

It wasn’t long before she started prepping us before shopping trips, “do. not. ask. me. for. a. thing. We’re going in for milk, crackers, and tomato sauce, and NOTHING more! Do you understand? Because we won’t go shopping again if you start asking me for things. I’m not in the mood.”

“Oh yes Mom! We understand!!”

What we really meant was, “just get us in the store and we’ll see if there’s anything there we might want to have.”

I ignored my kids during our last shopping trip for groceries because they simply would NOT stop pestering me for stuff.

It’s amazing how desperate they are to get something new. What starts off as “Can I have a new movie?” quickly changes to “batteries?” or “a water bottle?” or “a bag of marshmallows?” as we continue walking through the aisle.

I was beyond the point of being annoyed with my spoiled kids constant requests and had moved on to feeling strangely amused.

“What about a pineapple?”

“We could make s’mores!”

“Can we have an umbrella?”

I created these monsters.

“I need a Pillow Pet!”

“Can we have gum?”

“Look Mom! Bird Seed!!”

And I will never shop with them again.

Or…at least for another week or so.

ps I did buy ingredients for s’mores. Because, well duh.

It’s been an emotional few days.  One of my very best friends lost her mother to lung cancer on Friday evening.  She was diagnosed nearly two years ago, and at the time the doctors discovered it, she had already progressed to Stage 4.  She had determined to “fight like hell” very soon after the initial shock of that diagnosis wore off.  And boy, did she fight.

I have known my friend since fifth grade, which means I have known her dear mother just as long.  I spent a lot of time at their home growing up, and my fondest memories always included her mom somewhere in the background.  She always allowed us to have our space, to explore as kids, to talk on the phone with boys as we got a little older, and would even drop us off at the mall or movie theatre.  She never needed to be front-and-center, one of those in-your-face moms – but was just as present.

As we became adults, this amazing woman continued on in the background of my life.  Every time I’d see her at a party, or gathering – there she was, helping, organizing, serving, and all the while mingling with each person there.  She was the type of person who made you feel important because she was always genuinely interested in what was happening in your life.  She asked questions, she shared in your excitement, and was the first to offer words of compassion during tough times.

Watching her fight for her life these past 22 months has been both heartbreaking and admirable.  She’s maintained a quiet strength – putting one foot in front of the other even when every fiber of her being wanted to stay in bed.  Impressive, for sure.  However, I must admit that what has most impressed me about her journey has been watching my very sweet friend blossom.

I have seen a strength about my friend that I always sensed, but never knew the depths of.  I have seen compassion flow from her hands as she brushed her mom’s thinning hair, cooked countless meals, cleaned her parent’s house, and then finally – held her mother’s hand while whispering “We’ll never really be apart….it’s OK to go now.”

This got me thinking about my own relationship with my daughter.  It made me think about parents and children, and how we interact and what we want our kids to know and learn.  It made me think about the word “legacy,” and forced me to consider what legacy I’d like to leave for my precious DJ.

My friend’s mom has left an impressive legacy….a legacy that only a teacher can leave behind. A legacy of touching hundreds (probably thousands) of children’s lives – contributing to the goodness of society by investing wholly to our youth.  She leaves a legacy of creativity, of selflessness, of unwavering loyalty to her family.  No one could ever doubt her love for her husband, and her children.

I have watched my friend, at (days away from turning) 33 years old, handle things that I can only pray that I never will have to.  And yet, she’s done it with grace and honesty.  She’s been true to her heart since the devastating diagnosis was made.  She has had no regrets along the way….saying what she’s needed to say in the very moments she’s felt prompted to say them.

I believe that the most significant legacy that her mom leaves behind is one of devotion.  As kids, we would roll our eyes when she’d get involved in our “business.”  Now that I’m a parent, I see that she got involved because she loved her children, and because she was devoted to their well-being.  She was devoted to spending time with them, to raising them, to teaching them, to loving them, disciplining them, introducing them to new things, to reminding them not to forgot the old things.  She was devoted to her husband, to their home, to their goals and their dreams.  She lived a life of devotion.

In her final days, my friend sat beside her mom.  She held her hand, she sang to her, so told her stories, she prayed with her, I am sure she gently touched her forehead while thanking her again and again and again and again.  Even in the scariest moments of her mother’s final breaths, there sat my friend – right beside her mother.  Devoted.

What legacy do we want to leave for our children?  While one of adventure and riches seems attractive, are those things truly what sustain us in our darkest hours? After witnessing the course of my friend’s journey – I can tell you that it’s most important to me that I teach my daughter how to love unconditionally, how to support selflessly, how to fight courageously, how to focus on the right priorities, how to put family first, how to handle adversity with grace, and how to fight like hell for the things that really matter.

I want my daughter to learn devotion by watching the ways in which I stay. I am committed to staying even when it’s hard, staying even when it’s scary, staying even when I am exhausted and overwhelmed and weary.  I will stay when I’d rather leave, and I will stay when my heart is most broken.  I will stay in the hardest moments, and I will face them head on – knowing that adversity is only for a season, but that the model of devotion lasts a lifetime, and beyond.  It’s the legacy we leave behind.

It’s the way our children will live.

This sounds crazy, but sometimes I think my mother-in-law is better at parenting my kids than I am at parenting them.  She has been staying with us for the past couple of days.  We’ve had a really busy 48 hours and she’s been a huge help.

DJ turns 22 months old today.  I can hardly believe that she is almost two years old.  Actually, let’s face it, I can hardly believe she’s not twelve.  Yeah, I said it…..while my daughter is lovely in every way, she’s also a total diva.  Twenty-two months old, tapping into those dreaded pre-teen dramatics.  What’s a poor mom to do?

At swim lessons today, DJ marched around the locker room holding our bag of wet towels with one hand, wildly waving her index finger of the other hand saying, “NO” to anyone who came within six inches of her.  In a small locker room, that pretty much means everyone fell victim to her reprimanding.  I kept reminding her that no one was (purposely) trying to bother her, and that they had just as much of a right to be there as she did.  Of course, my reasoning meant nothing to her, and I finally realized that all she wanted was to appear to have ownership of our gaudy, pink, mesh bag.  That’s it.  DJ just wanted everyone to take notice that it was hers, and that she needed absolutely no assistance lugging it around.  Oh, “What a big girl….”

This is what life is like these days.

DJ not only insists that everything is hers, but more convincingly, insists that she can do everything on her own.  What used to take one minute, now takes 15 minutes.  Literally.  From changing her diapers, to getting dressed, to brushing her teeth, to pouring a glass of water – my kid freaks out at the slightest suggestion that she might need my help.  I am learning to back off, realizing that wiping one’s own butt is a total rite of passage – but my Lord, am I losing my patience.

Um, Newsflash: The hours in any given day do not increase as your demand for more time increases.  This was a surprise to me.  I never really imagined that I’d need to build additional time into my daily routine to account for toddler decision-making and idea implementation.  But, I do.  When you add up the time that it now takes DJ to hem and haw over which yogurt she pulls from the fridge, how long it takes her to un-Velcro her own diaper, how many attempts it takes her to get her arms through her shirt, how long it takes her to brush her teeth, and how many kitchen towels it takes to mop up the spilled water from her filling her own cup – I am utterly spent before the clock strikes 8:00 am.  Spent and totally and completely unproductive.

I am trying to remind myself that my sense of productivity revolves around things like grocery shopping, having the melted crayons scraped off the upholstery of my backseat, paying bills and preparing healthy meals – while DJ’s sense of productivity includes making discoveries about her abilities, and then exercising those findings to the fullest.  On the days when my checklist doesn’t even get touched because we are too busy putting socks on and then taking them back off four hundred dozen times, I have to take a deep breath and remember that huge accomplishments were, in fact, achieved at our house.  My patience, no matter how painful to stretch, is exactly what fosters DJ’s budding sense of independence – which, really, equates to her confidence.  I am pretty sure I can make time for that (and yes, of course while also teaching her that she’s not in charge).

On our way home from swim lessons, a song came on the radio which lead me to ask DJ, “You think you fancy, huh?” to which she replied “Yeah.”  Nuff said.  Miss Little Independent is super proud of her assertive self these days.

Hi! I’m newbie blogger Annie, writing to you as “Working Mommie”… boy am I a working mommy… or was up until this last Friday… or wait, I still am… have I got a story for you. I suppose I should give you a little background about myself first, I’m a single mommy to almost 3 year old Allie. I’m a 34 year old Peninsula native that adores this area and is so grateful to be able to raise my kid here (aren’t we all! I don’t have anything past my 2 year Associates Degree, but after the job I just left, I feel like I graduated with my Masters. Let me explain…

For the last few years I’ve been involved in something bigger than I ever could have imagined. I was part of the Mills-Peninsula Hospital Replacement Project in Burlingame (see here), helping to build and coordinate every aspect of the brand new state-of-the-art medical center. I am not sure how I ended up in that role, but I did through moving up in the organization and finally landing on that team. In the beginning I thought I was nuts for taking the position, for the learning curve was so steep. I knew nothing of FF&E (Furniture, Furnishings, Equipment)… I knew nothing of Construction or Signage or planning a transition of moving hundreds of staff and patients out of an old hospital into a new one… I knew nothing of space planning or hospital technology or what Stereotaxis was or a Hill-Rom Nurse Call System or a Liko Patient Lift, etc. etc. etc. etc. Believe me, there are a LOT of etceteras. Anyway… here it is 4 years later and it’s done. Complete. Finished. Everyone is moved in, patients love it, community loves it, we’re proud… and I’m done with my job. But wait… I forgot to mention…

During this time I’ve also been running my own part-time photography business (dragonflyannie). How? I HAVE NO CLUE! It is my passion, my one true love (aside from my daughter of course). I just kept going. I scheduled shoots when my daughter was with her Dad, and I only post-processed photos and worked on orders after my daughter went to bed at night. This meant going to bed sometimes at midnight, 1am, 2am. I have barely slept in the last couple of years. I thought about quitting the photography a number of times, but something greater was pushing me. I’ve never thought of myself as a workaholic, and don’t consider myself one at all. I didn’t like it this way, but knew that I had to keep going. Even though I tried so hard not to let my two jobs interfere with my time with Allie, every other part of my life suffered ~ my “me” time, any exercise was out the window (thank goodness I walked around the under construction hospital miles a day to help me lose my baby weight!), no time for dating, no time for much of anything else… but I still. just. kept. going….

Now here it is, present day. Project has come to an end. Part of the project team was let go, not because of budget cuts, not because we were fired… far from. Our jobs were just complete ~ project funds were up and we had nothing left to do. We knew when we started that this would be our fate. Friday was my last day. I’ve never in my life felt more sad about leaving a job – leaving the people. My project team was amazing, they became family. The experience was mind-blowing not to mention mind-boggling. I always asked myself how I got so lucky!? This crash course in project coordination / management of a project of THAT scale is why I feel like I just graduated with my Masters, or at least what I would imagine it to feel like. I feel an immense sense of accomplishment and contentment. So anyway, back to this Transition thing…

I never would have taken this leap of faith if I wasn’t forced into it. When I finally learned what my last day would be at MPHS I was scared, a bit depressed and honestly couldn’t believe it was finally approaching. Part of me thought it would never come. Then one day, someone said something to me on a facebook post that made me stop and think – like SERIOUSLY think – that wait a minute… this was happening for a reason and that I was finally getting a chance to do ONLY my photography. WHOA! Hold on a second… ummm, can I do that? Really? I don’t know, but in that moment I decided to embrace it and gosh darnet I’m sure as hell am going to try! I guess I really did keep going with my business for this reason. I knew deep down, even though subconsciously, that I would need this business when the end of my project came along. If I had stopped, I wouldn’t have had the momentum to make this leap feel logical and not so scary… well wait, I am scared that is for sure, but not as much as had I quit my business when I was in despair many nights about being so busy and stressed out.

At the end of the day, I’ve had MANY transitions over the last 4 years: the transition of becoming pregnant, becoming a mommy, becoming a single mommy, transitioning an entire organization and patients into the new hospital, transitioning out of my role as a project coordinator and into a full-time photography business owner. I’ve had quite enough for a while, I’m really hoping life can level out for me now (or is this even possible ). My main fears / doubts stem from wondering if I’m doing the right things for my daughter. Am I making a mistake by not having the “stable” paycheck? Should I be looking for at least something part-time? Will Allie benefit more from me doing the “safe” and “normal” thing with my life and should I just go find another job? Or will she benefit more from seeing her Mommy follow her dreams and go after what she truly wants and is passionate about… because isn’t that what we teach them? I want her to be whatever it is she wants to be… I suppose it’s time I start leading by example.

Deep breath. Next chapter. So happy to be here to share in this journey from here on out.
Wish me luck!

Many beautiful blessings,
Annie