A Penny Saved Is a Penny Earned, 27 August 2014

Today I had a job that paid $100 an hour!  Read on to find out how (or skip to the very bottom if you're a punchline person).

When Jay and I bought our house in 2010, there were two--count them, two--sliding glass doors in the master bedroom.  One of them looked out onto a wall.

(Don't worry; we painted the walls/ceiling and replaced the carpet and ceiling fan.)  About two years ago, we hired a friend to take out the superfluous door and frame in the space.  He put in the drywall and we left it at that, deciding that someday "soon" we'd hire someone to texture the drywall to match the rest of the room.

Meanwhile, Jay and I stuccoed the exterior wall ourselves after hearing an exorbitant quote for having someone else do it.  This wall, too, lay unpainted.

As you can see, we're not pros at the whole matching stucco thing. Eh. No one sees this wall anyway.

Last month, I decided I was tired of looking at bare drywall every day, so I got a quote from a paint company to texture it.  Not including the painting afterward, they asked for $450.00.  I hemmed and hawed and thought about it but didn't commit.

Now this week, both boys started class, which means that I now have 16--count them, 16!--hours per week while my kids are at school.  On Monday I did a lot of praying and list-making and thinking about those weekly 16 hours, and one of the things I've decided to do is pursue making my home visually and logistically more peaceful.  I have a loooooooooooooooong list of things I'd like to do, from re-landscaping the front yard to painting furniture.

What I don't have, however, is a money tree, and it's funny how all these projects add up when it's $450 here and $450 there.  But what I do have is time.

So, bada bing bada boom, after a little internet research I decided to take on this texturing project myself!

This morning I started by spackling all the shrunken joint compound around the edges and screws.  I also resolved not to stress about making the wall look absolutely seamless, because I knew that would be impossible for me to do.  I just wanted it to be better than it was.

Then I read the back of the spackle bucket and saw that it could take five hours to dry if it was put on thickly...which it was.  So for the next five hours I...

...paid some bills

...checked Facebook (but only for a couple minutes, I promise)

...spackled the cracks around the patched stucco on the exterior side of the wall

...patched a small hole in the drywall of our hallway by a new thermostat

...did the dishes

...ran a load of laundry

...ate lunch

...picked the kids up from school (yup, my four kid-free hours were done, but they cozied up with some video games so I still had unfettered time)

...prepped a make-ahead dinner

...and read from some special books.

Now the mud was finally dry enough to sand it down, so I put together my brand new little toy and made a ridiculous amount of dust all over my bedroom.  But it had a little catching bag thingy!  Why so much dust?!?  Ah well.  Sanders will be sanders.  We'll sleep in the guest bedroom tonight and I'll clean it up tomorrow.

Like my floral drop cloth? :-)

Naturally, I didn't spread drop cloths over the bed and all of Jay's clothes and all my furniture. So much dust...

My next step was going to be to wipe the dust off the wall where I'd be spraying the texture.  But I forgot.  Oops.  Moving right along...

I used pre-mixed spray cans, practicing on a couple cardboard boxes in the back yard until I figured I'd set the spray volume close enough to match my wall.  The texturing itself went really fast and was actually kinda fun!

Not that it looks much different from this distance. There's only supposed to be about 70% coverage.

While it dried, I popped the casserole in the oven and put on my Teacher Hat for some homework with the boys.  There were some tears (not mine), but before a complete breakdown happened, Jay arrived home from work and soothed the troubled waters.  I love Jay.

Then we ate dinner.  I love one-dish meals.

I primed the wall.

Then I primed the exterior wall, which was no fun at all because I really needed a roller with, like, 6-inch nap to actually get into the crazy stucco job--which I didn't have.  So I rolled and then jammed the bristles of a large paint brush into as many of the low spots as I could.  I'll figure out how to paint it tomorrow (yes, I know a sprayer would be ideal, but I don't have one).

The exterior priming took longer than I thought it would, but when I was finished with that I could go back in the house and paint the opposite side.  I love paint!  Notice I didn't say that I love painting; but a flat, rectangular piece of wall that doesn't need any cutting-in is pretty straightforward.

Two coats of paint and voila!  Done!

The perimeter of where the door used to be is still visible, but at least half of it will be obscured by furniture, and in lower lighting the seams really don't glare out.  And you know what?  It's good enough for me!

I added up my labor hours of this texturing deal (minus all the other projects) and it amounted to about four and a half.  Which means that I spent four and a half hours of my time today to save $450.00, which means that I basically earned $450.00, which works out to $100.00 an hour.

Boom, baby!

Now I'd better go make up the guest bed.  Aaaaaand take a couple ibuprofen.  'Night!

Missing Out? 8 May 2014

Today would have been my mom's 57th birthday.

Mom (and Essie) blows out candles on the cake I made for her 38th birthday

This year, it comes three days before the now-dreaded Hallmark Holiday called "Mothers' Day," which after my four years of grief would be better named "Rub It in Your Face That You're Sad Day."  Rub it in your face that not only I, but also my husband, no longer have a mom.  Rub it in your face that my friend was supposed to celebrate Mother's Day as a mom this year, but because her baby died, she won't.  Rub it in your face that the little boy across the street has a mother who only comes by his house every couple of weeks to raid the frig...and he doesn't even really notice when she's gone.  Rub it in your face that my dear friend longs to be a mother, to be married, to be cherished by her own little family, but yet-again this year she hasn't met Mr. Right.

So I make a wide berth around greeting card aisles this time of year, ignore advertisements that glibly invite "Celebrate Mom!" and wrestle with whether to attempt attending church on Mother's Day.  And I feel sad.  And angry.

And I've been feeling sad and angry on various levels for four years--ever since I discovered that "bad stuff" can happen to me and to those I love.  Now I'm more aware of bad stuff happening all over the world, too, and the weight of grief and anger for the injustices and brokenness of the world is heavy.  Which brings me to a realization I started having while lying in bed at 11 p.m. last night.

I think I've been clinging to my right to be angry.

In my quest to break free from my culture's stifling you-have-three-days-of-allowed-bereavement and don't-cry-in-public and you're-not-over-that-yet? attitudes, I've tried to be open about my feelings, embrace the reality of pain, and encourage others to be honest with God about their anger and sadness.  Just look at this blog!  Over 1/3 of my posts since beginning two years ago are labeled with grief, sadness, crying, or death.

This has been--and is--important.  But am I now so focused on the need to work through grief that I've lost focus on the greater need to be whole?

"Gee Rachel," you might be thinking, "it's been over a month since you blogged last and this is what you show up to write about?  We want to hear about your music job!  How are Jay, G, and Z?  Made any ridiculously-large batches of food lately?  Why so philosophical today?  Oh, it must be because it's your mom's birthday."  Actually, that's only partially true.  The real answer to this morning's frame of mind has to do with those other questions you asked, so let me back up a bit. 

April 28th was the last day of my wage-earning job as a church music director.  The very next day, Z got the flu.  Three days after that, G got the flu.  (Thanks for waiting for me, guys.)  So I came off four months of being absolutely in my element in an office outside my house with adults away from Mom Duty to a week and a half of being glued to my house with sick kids.  Moreover, their school class schedule is different this week, so we've been given extra homeschooling work.  From half-time professional to full-time mom/nurse/homeschool teacher.  Brutal.  I'm not making light of this; it's been rough.

Yesterday evening, wandering listlessly around the house after a day of homeschooling, washing sheets, doing dishes, finding food that would tempt an indisposed child, and being sick of trying to pass any remaining downtime with Facebook and television, I picked up a book that had been sitting untouched on my nightstand for months.  I'm not even sure how it showed up there.  (If you loaned it to me, speak up and I'll return it to you when I'm done reading it.)

Ann Voskamp's One Thousand Gifts looks boring on the cover, honestly, and it's a pretty generic title.  I only picked it up last night because I was tired of muttering to myself, "I'm bored."  Turns out, the book isn't boring.  It's about the journey of a stay-at-home mom with grief skeletons in her closet, struggling to get out of bed every day, and sick and tired of not having a full, whole, joyous life.

It sounded a little too familiar.

When I put the book down at 11 p.m. and Jay turned off the lamp, I had a lot of questions for myself in the dark.  What do I want?  Am I letting my right to grieve hold me back from joy in the present?  Are daydreams of Someday Success cheating me out of Today?  Are there wholeness and health in the daily doldrums?  What if I make peace with the pain?  Will I just be given more pain and more humdrum, or could making peace make more space for goodness?  At least if I'm braced for pain I'm not caught off-guard when it happens.  But am I watching out more for blows than I am on the lookout for beauty?

I fell asleep and dreamed that my mom had decorated the house for Christmas in October and that I was practicing a fantastic soprano part for a women's quartet.  I woke up five hours later, feeling surprisingly rested, but with the night's questions still swirling in my mind.

Now the sun is up; the boys are getting out cereal and I need to pour milk in bowls and get started on their homework and sort the laundry.  Life is happening, whether I'm geared up for it or not.  Today, I miss my mom--I miss our moms; and I'm starting to ask myself, What else am I missing?

The Wheels Are Turning, 14 February 2014

Today I rode my bike for the first time in years a while.  I was inspired to ride the 20 minutes to work so that I could get some exercise out of the morning before my kids got home from their overnight stay at the FILs', and it did feel good.  (Except on my sitter.)

The funny thing about being inspired to ride today is that I've spent my free time over the last 24 hours looking at car prices!  Jay and I are thinking and praying about what to do with the extra income I'm getting this year, and while our trusty 2004 Honda Civic is still trusty, it needs new paint, and I'm tired of not having cruise control or power windows, and I drive the kids around so much that I'd really rather drive something that looks sexy.  (Let's be honest here.)

But I dunno.  Spending thousands of dollars on something we don't need right now is a big decision.  Last night Jay and I watched an episode of a series on the history of Britain that covered millions in India and Ireland dying of starvation during the mid-Nineteenth Century, and I'm asking myself, "What am I doing to aid the starving of today's world?  How would having a new(er) car benefit the world?  So I'm grumpy driving my current car.  So what?"

And yet I'm considering taking the Civic to get a shampoo today and see if I get any bites on selling it...and a car dealership just sent me some quotes...and I can imagine myself zipping around town in a fuel-efficient, comfortable car that doesn't turn heads because of its ugliness...and I just don't know.

Don't think there's one right answer to this--although I'm sure some people would say there definitely is a right answer, one way or the other.

Gonna keep praying.  Want to do what's best.

Mess and Music, 25 January 2014

This evening I cooked a tasty, healthy dinner for us, and this is what the kitchen looked like afterward:

It wasn't even that complicated of a meal.  The red peppers in the pasta sauce were from a can, the broccoli was a la carte out of the microwave, and dessert majored on canned pears and melted chocolate chips.  To be completely honest, I looked at this mess and asked myself, "Is cooking worth it?"

Obviously, any self-respecting domestic engineer would answer: "Maybe."  Or, "Sometimes."  I do have some other-worldly friends who prioritize their family's nutrition so highly that they spend multiple, entire days of the week in the kitchen.  Hopefully their husbands do dishes for them (thank you Jay for being awesome about dishwashing, even though I don't spend that much time cooking).  I even have some friends--possibly descended from ancient Greek divinity--who claim to enjoy doing dishes.  I don't understand those friends, but I like them.

Enough whining.  On days cooking just isn't worth the mess to us, we'll leaf through our stack of coupons and get take-out.  Don't hate it--appreciate it!

Speaking of appreciating, I managed to find two pairs of shoes on a double sale today that were comfortable, cute, the right colors, and in my size.  Show and tell!

Love those red tags!  Aren't the heels lovely?  I promise they're comfortable!

The reasons I needed these shoes are as follows: 1) The two business-type pairs of brown shoes I wore regularly finally gave out after 8 and 5 years, respectively.  2) The one pair of brown heels I've had are incredibly cute but a half-size too small, really only suitable for wearing places I can sit down and kick them off.  3) I'm working at a job where I walk and stand for a few hours at a time...while not wearing sneaker-compatible outfits.

For anyone tuning in to Mostly Today for the first time since mid-December, you may be surprised to discover that I started a money-earning job on January 2nd!  I'm a part-time, interim music director for a local church, planning their Sunday and Wednesday service music, teaching and directing their adult choir, leading singing during the services, and teaching two elementary-aged kids' music classes each week.

It's been a total BLAST.  I mean it!  There is so much about this job that I love: the people, the music, the planning, the using-my-skills-and-education, the income, the way it stretches my brain and opens my heart.

Check out my office!  What's not to love?!

There are challenges of course, like figuring out how to engage 10-year-old boys in a music class when they'd really rather be wrestling and yelling.  (If you music-teacher-types have any suggestions, please comment.)  Another challenge is figuring out daily logistics with Jay, given that I'm less available for domestic engineering, but this has been pretty smooth, thus-far.  Probably the smallest-scale challenge has to do with footwork...or should I say, footwear.  But as of today that's taken care of, so I think this coming week will be off to a good start...or should I say, will start off on the right foot.

Tomorrow morning, I even get to bust out a Handel solo!  Wow.  Singing classical arias in a church service, sandwiched between Scripture readings, Holy Communion, and choral praise to the Lord?  It doesn't get much better than that.

P.S.  On second thought, one thing that very possibly does get better than that is becoming an auntie again!  Congratulations to my sister Kay and her husband on the birth of Baby C!!!  He's my favorite nephew born this year.  :-D

An Unexpected Gift, 28 December 2013

Today I am recovering from Christmas!  Thanks to my blessed FIL and Mrs. FIL, the kids had a sleepover with them last night and I slept until 9:00 this morning.  Heavenly!  Now, after hot tea and a toasted bagel, I'm back under the blankets, still in my flannel nightgown (no photos forthcoming).  I can think of few better ways to recover from the flurry of planning and socializing that characterized this year's holiday!  (Okay, let's be honest: a bungalow on a white-sanded beach or a cabin in snow-bound woods could probably be even more restorative than this, but both of those involve driving or flying, plus rental fees, so I think I'm good with the current scenario.)

While out to a delicious New Orleans-style dinner last night (thank you again to the FILs!), Jay and I discussed how we can prevent next year's Christmas season from being as thoroughly exhausting as this year's was.  We came up with a few ideas.

1. Keep the house more orderly going into the hosting season to prevent a sudden loooooooooooooooong to-do list of chores.
2. Spread out the various family events.  Three Christmas celebrations three days in a row (with book-ending celebratory weekends) was just a bit much.
3. Pester gift recipients for their wishlists and do the shopping (preferably online) before December.
4. Apply for, be interviewed for, and accept any new jobs before mid-December.

I'm sure you nodded to yourself as you read the first three, possibly glazing over a bit at how predictably generic they are, but you may have been caught a bit off-guard by the last item.  I shall elaborate.

Jay read a book a number of years ago that described three main kinds of labor: Wage, Reproductive, and Domestic.  For the first years of our marriage, Jay and I were both engaged in full-time wage labor (working for a monetary income).  When we decided to start having kids, I shifted to part-time wage labor and full-time reproductive labor (growing a human being is a 24-7 job!).  Once we had two children, I transitioned into full-time domestic labor; some call this being a stay-at-home-mom, others call it being a homemaker, and my favorite is the title my parents gave it: Domestic Engineer.

I've used this cartoon in a post before.  I like it.  :-)  Although to be clear, I don't daily wear skirts and heels. And I don't drive a station wagon.

The above paragraph is a fancy way of saying that I have not had a money-paying job for over five years.  Jay and I are definitely at peace with that, because we place high value on all three kinds of labor, and this has seemed the best way to do things for our little family.  But starting January 2nd, I will have a money-earning job!

No, I'm not "going back to work" full-time (just 17 hours a week), and it's not even a permanent position.  I will be acting as Interim Music Director at a local church for three or four months while their leadership looks for a permanent person.  It will involve directing their small adult choir through rehearsals and Sunday mornings, teaching two 1/2-hour music classes to elementary kids once-a-week, and selecting and leading songs for two worship services per week.  This is a super opportunity for me for many reasons!

In the first place, this has come at a great time.  Those 17 hours a week include the weeknight/Sunday services, so my other prep time will fit neatly into the eight hours per week both my kids are at class.  In the second place, this is so great for me is because it is a temporary position.  I'm not ready to commit to a long-term wage-job, and Jay and I aren't ready to make decisions about whether we'd move our family to another congregation.  (While I'm working at this church, Jay and the kids will continue to attend our "regular" church family; it would just be too disruptive for the kids to switch congregations, and Jay and I are still very much "at home" there.)

A third reason this opportunity is perfect for me is that--unfortunately--the situation with the church's previous music director has been messy, and there are wounded people left in the wake.  One of the things they want in an interim director is someone who will enter and gently love on their congregation.  And you know what?  I'm really good at loving on people.  I'm not tooting my own horn here, it's just acknowledging that through my various life experiences, God has given me a growing capacity for compassion and tenderness.  This is not to say that I won't be extremely challenged and stretched through this time, but I think I'm coming into it with a background that prepares me well.

Another reason I'm so excited about this opportunity is that it is a paying music job.  Paying.  Music.  Don't get me wrong...I enjoy all the volunteer-music I do, but there is something incredible about being given money to use the skills I've worked so hard for (I have a Bachelor's of Music degree; for the whole long scoop on my history with music, grab a coffee and read about it here).  I am so excited about taking time to plan, produce, and participate in music on a consistent basis!  And I'm getting paid, too!!  WOW!!!

I'll try to moderate my music choices, heehee

Not gonna lie though...I'm nervous too.  Logistically, everything I've done in my few alone-time weekday morning hours will have to find other slots while I'm involved with this new job.  Emotionally, I'm coming into a somewhat volatile situation and I'm not sure what interpersonal dynamics/demands will be like.  Mentally, I'll be stretched by a new church service format and by the weekly kids' classes I'll be teaching, especially.  And this will certainly be challenging spiritually.  (My observation has been that when someone is in a ministry-type leadership position, they tend to get hit with a lot of life difficulties, from home plumbing problems to kid behavioral issues to health crises etc.  These things could be attributed to any number of factors; perhaps simply the added strain of leadership creates extra tension; but I believe that there are very real forces of good and evil at work in the world, and when the good is moving forward, the evil strikes back.  Star Wars, the Matrix, and a lot of other "epic" stories seem to tap into this idea.)

So yes, I'm really thrilled at this opportunity to use my music skills, gain new experience, meet new people, and be stretched as I love and learn.  The timing and the nature of it feels like such a gift from my loving God, even if it did enter my life in a particularly crazy month.  I'm thinking a little eggnog and television with my family just might be a great way to wind up our celebrations before this new whirlwind hits the first week of January.  A couple more mornings of sleeping-in would be great, too.

Happy New Year!