Le Great Baby Debate

So, my sister Cher's baby shower was last Saturday. Ellie and I planned and executed the shower, along with help from our mom. We spent several hours on Saturday morning running around the church like a bunch of chickens with our heads cut off. We chopped veggies, we sliced cheese, we chopped more veggies, we arranged crackers, we hung pictures, posters, banners. We sauced meatballs. We made table arrangements. We stirred meatballs. We arranged napkins, plates, silverware.

Oh! And I made blue punch, with white ice cream clouds and floated rubber duckies in it.

It was AWESOME. I'm pretty sure it was the coolest punch ever made. At least 15 guests came up to me and commented on the punch. I wish I was smart enough to load some pics. I'll ask Will to help me load some pics sometime. You really need to see the punch. Do you understand? I was SO. PROUD. of that punch.

(It was really easy for those interested: 1 liter of Sprite/Sierra Mist, 1 64oz bottle of white cranberry juice, and a couple of packets of any type of blue koolaid mix. Stir it all together. Add a little sugar if you like, then drop a couple of scoops of vanilla ice cream in it. It's delish.)

I also offered to babysit my cousins, William and Naomi for the weekend because my aunt and uncle had to go out of town. When I volunteered, I figured, "Eh, no big deal! I'll have lots of help getting things ready for the shower. How hard can a 5 year old and 4 year old be?" So I had both of them to keep an eye on.

Apparently babysitting is too hard for me! I had a minor break down at the church when William and Naomi were crashing play carts through the halls, yelling at each other, and eating vegetables off our beautifully arranged trays after I SPECIFICALLY told them not to. *sigh* In fact, I was so stressed with trying to get everything perfect for the shower and keep them out of trouble that I hung up on my sweet mother when she was offering to bring us all lunch.

Yup. Sure did. Gold star for me.

Mom: What do the kids want from MCD's for lunch?
Me: Uh. I dunno. *asks kids what they want from MCD's.* *gets blank stares*
Me: Kids, do you want happy meals?
 *more blank stares*
William: Um how about a chicken sandwich? Or chicken nuggets? Or...
Me: Mom, I don't know! Cheeseburger happy meals?
William: I don't eat cheeseburgers. How about.. ummmmmm...... ummmmm...
Me: William, Naomi- what would you like?
Mom: Hurry, I'm next in line!

Me: I DON'T KNOW MOM! I DON'T KNOW! I DON"T CARE! PICK SOMETHING! *click* 

Wow. I seriously don't know if I am cut out for kids. I know, that might seem a little dramatic given the fact that was probably just stressing because I am type A, and I wanted my sister's shower to be beautiful. And truthfully, the rest of the weekend went swimmingly. I had no more breakdowns. The kids were truly well behaved. Well, as well behaved as 4 and 5 year olds can be. And we did have fun.

But when the kids left I thought, "Ahhhhh! I can relax! This is fantastic!" And when I really think about it: I don't know if I am cut out to be a mom. I am not the most patient person in the world. I swear too often. I don't know if I am the best role model.  I enjoy partaking in a few too many cocktails now and again. I enjoy my freedom. I love being able to go where I want, when I want, how I want. I love being able to take spontaneous trips. I love sleeping in. I worry about being responsible for another living creature.  I worry about "messing my kids up" like you know, saying the wrong thing to them, or whatever. I worry about falling in love with Chicago, and not wanting to raise a kid there/not being able to afford to raise a kid there.

Basically, at this point in my life, I simply cannot picture myself as a mom. I mean,  I always thought EVENTUALLY I will have a child, but eventually was always a time that was waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay off in the distant future, and so I always thought I'd think about it more way off in the distant future.

But um, it's sort of the future. I am 26 years old now and my baby making window is getting smaller. I mean, I still have a good 10 years, but time keeps on ticking by...

I guess it's a good thing that Will and I talked about this whole sitch before the wedding. He wants kids, but he more or less said he doesn't want kids more than he wants me to be his wife.

I think I'm going to stop here. I just needed to get this off my chest I guess! Hopefully one day the great baby debate I have going on with myself will be settled.

Margaritas! (And medicine!)

Will and I were lucky enough to spend the whole day together today, uninterrupted. We woke up around 9, I made bell pepper omelets and bacon. We went shopping and saw Haywire at the cinema. For those of you who are interested, I thought the movie was decent. Gina Carano is extremely lovely to look at, she made the fight scenes very believable since she is a fighter in real life, and the plot was interesting enough.

Afterward, it was off to get a new, wireless printer, and to enjoy some dinner. We ate at a local Mexican joint that has AWESOME margaritas. While we were indulging in salsa and tequila, we started talking about music.

The Red Hot Chili Peppers are coming to Chicago (HELL YES! I have wanted to see this band FOREVER.) on May 28th, and I will be purchasing two tickets for Will's birthday. (His birthday is coming up in Feb.)

We started chatting about how awesome the concert is going to be, and then I was like, "Waaaait a second. Hopefully you'll get to actually see the concert!"

It's a distinct possiblity that Will will have to be at the hospital during the concert. Ya know, being a med student in clincals and all.

He said, "Yeah. But if I can't make it, then we'll just have to deal. This is what I signed up for, and I should be thankful that I've reached this point."

And I thought about how right he is.

And I stopped and savored the moment. Just me and him in a little corner booth. Hanging out on a Saturday night with some delicious flautas, margaritas and conversation.

I tried to remind myself to savor these moments. Hold on to them. Because before we know it, Will is going to be thrust head-first into the world of clinicals and residency. And there will be LOTS of 90 hour work weeks. And LOTS of time away from each other. Lots of missed dinners. Lots of together time interrupted by the pager going off. Lots of patients competing for the time I would like to spend with my husband.

So for this one night, I will remind myself how lucky we are to have this precious moment in time. A moment that so very many other "normal" couples take for granted.

Shopping. A movie. Dinner. Drinks. Conversation. Just me and Will and nothing else.

I wanted to write it down it so I never ever take these moments for granted.

UIS Semester 3

Tomorrow I start my third semester at the University of Illinois at Springfield. I am working on my bachelor's degree online, and I have about 1 year to go. Basically, I can be done in one year if I take a couple of classes this summer, if I don't, then I'll have 3 "full" semesters to go. I don't really think I'll take classes this summer if I have a full time job. I already take a full class load in the Spring/Fall semesters, and I enjoy having the summer off.

Read: Working full time and schooling full time gets pretty crazy, and I like to have a summer break to attempt to regain my sanity. Plus, since we're moving to Chicago in 47 days (eee!), I'd like the summer off to explore the city.

You may be wondering why a woman of my advanced age (hehe, 26!) is still working on her bachelor's. Well folks, I'm a late bloomer. Read: I have no idea what I want to do with my life. Ahhh I said it. That felt good.

Here is how I got to this point in my education:
I took some time off after high school because I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life. Then, I decided waitressing SUCKED and I enrolled in classes. I decided to get my certificate in Medical Billing and Coding so that I could get a job in the health field asap. I can say with complete honesty that medical billing sucks donkey balls. Talking to insurance companies all day makes me want to poke myself repeatedly in the eyeball with a toothpick. I've done it for about 5 years now, and I don't know what the hell I was thinking when I went to school for this!

I got my associate's degree in 2010 and then applied to UIS, where I have happily been chugging along ever since, and guess what?  I still don't know what I want to do with my life! However, I can tell you that I am very interested in criminal justice. So at least I have some sort of direction. ;)

I have a love/hate relationship with college. I've been studying on and off since I graduated high school NINE years ago. I love school because I've met tons of great people, and learned a lot about politics, criminal justice and the world in general. I also love school because I know it is my way out of this medical billing sitch.

Buuuuuuuuuuuut...I hate school sometimes, because there are days when I get home after work and the LAST THING I want to do is put in 2 or 3 or 4 hours of study time/homework. I also hate it because I love reading for pleasure, and when school is in session I don't really have any time to read anything after I've read the assigned reading. (How many times can YOU use read/reading in a sentence?) I think my feeling about school would tilt more toward "love" if I could find a way to work part time while I'm finishing up my degree.  Maybe I'll find something part time in Chicago that will provide a large enough salary to prevent Will and me from starving, while allowing me to focus more energy on class.

Ha! We shall see!

Hopefully school won't interfere way too much with blog time, but I do believe it is a distinct possibility. Semester 3 here I come!

Being Happy VS Making Money

I was in the break room at work yesterday reading, and I overheard our coding manager talking to one of my coworkers. Both the coding manager and my coworker are women in their mid-40's with kids headed to college. My coworker mentioned to the coding manager that her daughter would be touring some colleges in the next few months, and they struck up a conversation on the costs of college, and the ideas their daughters have about college/life after college. This was their conversation:

Coding Manager: What schools is Katy touring?
Coworker: Oh, she's going to check out NYU, Columbia, and UCLA.
Coding Manager: Wow! That's great! Columbia's pretty pricey, huh?
Coworker: Yes, and Katy wants to be an actress. She is insistent on majoring in acting/theatre.Her father is whole-heartedly encouraging her, while I'm telling her to work out a plan B immediately! I am not wasting all that money on an acting major so she can end up a waitress!
Coding Manager: AHAHAHAHA! An actress?! Let me guess, she doesn't care about money, she just wants to be happy?
Coworker: Yes! Exactly! *shaking her head*
Coding Manager: She'll change her tune REAL QUICK! Make sure she gets that back up plan worked out! Try to encourage her to go into business or health care. Isn't it so silly that young people don't understand the real world? I told my daughter she has two choices if we're sending her to undergrad: pre-med, or pre-law.

At this point, I was starting to get uncomfortable, and a little afraid that I'd speak up, so I left the room.

My coworker and her husband can afford to send their daughter to Columbia. That is fantastic! It's great that they've planned and set aside money to send their daughter to college. And I totally understand having a plan B, because it's obviously EXTREMELY hard to make it in the biz, but I certainly don't understand why you wouldn't encourage your children to go after what makes them happy in life? ESPECIALLY if they can attend college on your dime, without taking out loans that would put them deeply in debt?

We get one shot at life. Shouldn't we spend it doing things that make us happy?

I just think it'd be a really sad world if no one tried to follow their dreams.

I made  a promise to myself in the break room yesterday. If I am lucky enough to have a child headed to college one day, I will tell him/her to major in what makes him/her come alive, whether it is music, social work, acting, or underwater welding, I want to encourage him/her to follow that passion. We only get one life. Might as well enjoy it.

"Those people got problems, but money ain't one of em."

I ran across this post in the Chicago Reader this evening while browsing for more potential jobs in Chicago.

PT Housekeeper/Nanny w/Car Needed

Part-time | 15-20

posted 01/07/2012

Location: Palos Park, IL
Start Date: ASAP
Job Title: Housekeeper/Nanny
Living Arrangements: Live Out
Car Required: Valid DL + Car
Education: High School Diploma
Position Length: Long Term Commitment (1+ years)
Schedule: Tues, Thurs, & Fri 9am-5pm(Part Time w/potential to go Full Time)
Salary: $15-20/hr (DOE)
Benefits: TBD
Job Description:
A busy and active family of 4 is seeking a proactive and detailed orientated housekeeper to care for a 10,000 sq ft estate in Palos Park. The family also includes two dogs. A successful applicant will have 4+ years of housekeeping experience, proactive, punctual, detail orientated, and take charge work ethic. The mom is a SAHM busy caring for 2 girls and needs a hands on housekeeper who can pitch in with nanny duties as needed.
Duties included are cleaning and maintaining the home, bedrooms, kitchen, and organization. A full charge housekeeper who can create an organized list of tasks and can work independently without direction.
Knowledge of the proper care of fine furnishings such as Granite, Marble, Stainless Steel, Hardwood Floors, etc. is required as well.


All I have to say is:

ARE YOU EFFING KIDDING ME?!?!?!?! A TEN THOUSAND sq ft home?! That is asinine. I rolled my eyes so hard when I read this ad that I thought they just might stick to the back of my skull for all eternity.

Weighty Confessions

When I started this blog, I promised myself that I would let it take on a life of its own. Sure, I started it to talk about my hopes and fears and adventures related to the Windy City, but in the back of my mind I promised myself that I'd let it be somewhere I could come to unload life's stresses  too; if that is what I felt like I needed to do.

So, with my promise to myself in mind, and because I don't want to be someone who shies away from sensitive topics, I've decided to go ahead and talk about something that has been weighing on my mind lately, no pun intended; my weight.

I come from a family of eaters. We love to eat. When we get together, there is usually food involved. In fact, I've continued a tradition that my lovely grandmother started many, many years ago; the Sunday Dinner Tradition. My family comes to my house once a month on a Sunday afternoon, and I cook a huge lunch. We eat, we laugh, we talk, we enjoy each other's company.

Luckily, I've never been overweight. I was at my heaviest in my junior year of high school. I weighed 171 lbs. I am 5'11". So I was within the recommended healthy weight range of 136-179 lbs. I was laaaaaaazy in high school though, and unhealthy. I was pretty out of shape since I had quit playing basketball, and taken a part time job at a fast food restaurant. I was not happy with the way my body looked or about how sluggish I felt.

Fast forward three years. I has just turned 19, and had just started dating Will. I was working full time as a waitress/serving wench at a truck stop. I was smoking like a chimney, but I was on my feet and running around for 8+ hours a day. I weighed 155 lbs, and I was pretty happy with how my body looked, and how much physical activity I was getting. I went to the gym off and on for awhile.

Fast forward about another two years. I had turned 21 and was partying pretty much every weekend. I was happily going along in my relationship with Will, and we went on lots of dinner dates. I had quit the job at the truck stop, and taken a job as a front desk attendant at a local hotel. I was pretty sedentary. I gained 12 lbs and weighed in at 167 lbs. I was unhappy that I allowed myself to put on so much weight after leaving my waitressing job, and again, I  didn't like how my body looked. For the next two years, my weight fluctuated from about 160 to 167.

Fast forward a year. I quit the hotel and took a job at a medical clinic. My weight didn't change much, but I did become a bit more active. And then fast forward another year or so and Will finds out he's going to medical school. (YAY!) In another country. ( Fuuuuuck!)

The first 6 months Will was gone were TOUGH on me. Tough emotionally and physically. I became anxious and I had trouble sleeping. I was eating, but I wasn't eating much. The stress affected my appetite and weight big time, and my weight plummeted. I went from 167 lbs to 133 lbs in about 6 months. 34 lbs in 6 months is A LOT of weight and 133 lbs for a woman of my height is underweight. My face looked gaunt.

My doctor became concerned with my weight loss. My family became concerned. Finally, when I saw everyone else was concerned, I took a good long look at myself and became concerned as well.

I decided to stop moping, get active and get my emotional and physical health back on track. I immersed myself in my work at the clinic. I got accepted to the University Of Illinois and enrolled in classes full time to finally get my bachelor's degree. I started a legit exercise program for the first time in my life and I stuck with it. I ate extremely clean. Lots of lean protein, fruits, and vegetables. I felt amazing. I LOVED the way my body looked. As I gained some muscle, my weight slowly crept up to a healthier level of 140 lbs and there it stayed until Will came home, which is what leads me to this post.

When you're in love/married/partnered up with someone, it becomes easier to let yourself off a little too easy when it comes to your eating habits. You're happy. You're in love. You do get a little lazier. Or at least, I do!

Don't get me wrong here. Will and I DO go to the gym together 3-4 times a week. We do cardio and weights. We also eat alot. And what we eat is not always super healthy. Will has been home for about 9 months now and my weight has crept up. I am sitting at 147 lbs as we speak, and I'm not liking it. Some of my jeans are tight, and I don't feel as healthy as I did when I was eating so clean.

Ok. I confessed.

Really,  I'm not entirely sure what the point of the post was.

I'm just feeling guilty. And then feeling a little guilty about feeling guilty, because I know for the most part I am a pretty healthy person, but no matter how hard I TRY not to care about the number on the scale, I care a little. I'm vain. I'm not going to lie. I'm not extremely vain, but there is a little vanity goin on up in here.

I'm definitely not the kind of vain beeyotch that gets a boob job or injects botox or does some freaky ass extreme diet or cares when my weight changes a couple of pounds. But I am the kinda vain beeyotch that does like to look as good as I*** naturally*** can;  I DO want to slide easily into all of my jeans, I want to be fit, and I DO want to feel as good as I felt when I ate so well.

I don't  usually make new years resolutions, but I really want to get back to eating cleaner in 2012. Hopefully I'll be able to look back on this post and remind myself of that.

Hyde Park, bitches!

My mom would wash my mouth out if she saw the title of this post. I swear, she really did raise me with manners, and she taught me that swearing sounds ignorant most of the time.

*sigh*

I blame my sailor's mouth on the 2 year stint I did as a waitress at the local truck stop. Serving truckers for 8+ hours a day will cause anyone to develop a swearing habit, and quite possibly a nervous tick or two.

And that's the gospel truth.

In other news...

Will and I have an appointment to tour several apartments in the city on February 4th. We've done a lot of research and we both decided that Hyde Park is where we'd like to live. It's on the south side, close to the museum of Science and Industry, and near the hospital where Will will be working. There are many reasons aside from these that we chose Hyde Park, but here are my the top 3 reasons I love the sound of the Hyde Park neighborhood in Chicago:

#1. Hello! Lake Michigan! Maybe even views of Lake Michigan from our apartment?! *sigh* Will and I can take long walks by the lake, or hang out on the beach in the warmer months.

#2. I am sort of an old fart, so I like the fact that Hyde Park been has been described as relatively quiet. I couldn't tell you the last time I went to a bar. On a Friday/Saturday night I'd much prefer hitting the gym, cooking dinner at home/ordering in, and curling up with Will, a good book/movie, and a few glasses of wine to "hittin da club". If that makes me old and lame, so be it. I love eht.

and

#3. Hyde Park is diverse. It is home to a couple of art centers, museums, and the University of Chicago. I am so looking forward to meeting new friends that look absolutely nothing like me, and can hopefully teach me a thing or two thousand about life.

I can't wait to check these apartments out! *Fingers crossed* for something in our budget with a view!

Hey! A girl can dream! Right?