The other day I lost myself in a moment of nostalgia. I turned to my 7-year-old and said that one day I could train her to do what I did for a living. Wouldn’t she like that? She could work from home with mommy and I’d even pay her! Then she’d have this great skill to take with her to college so she could help pay her way (okay, so maybe it was a little self-serving).
I’m not sure what response I was expecting, but I know it was something loosely based on a magical Hollywood moment that I’d seen long ago.
She would say something like, “Work with you, mommy? Really? That’s awesome!” or “I want to start right now!”
Her actual response was a little different.
She got the same expression on her face that she gets when I make her stop doing something fun so she can put her socks on and said, “Mommy, I don’t want to stare at a computer all day.”
And there it was, from the mouth of my baby. That one short sentence deflated the rest of my day (okay, week).
I dropped her and her sister off at school, drove home listening to Deer Tick’s, “Art Isn’t Real (City of Sin)” and sobbing.
After I got over the simplistic, yet accurate, summary of my work day, I felt better. Sort of.
I realized that my expectations were a bit unrealistic. My child is seven. I mean, what was I thinking?
However, the entire experience made me consider the way I spend my time each day and how that might look to a child. When she sees me working, I’m staring at my computer. There’s nothing beyond that for her. I’m stuck at my desk while she’s playing in the mud with her friends.
But when I think how I’ve carved out a niche for myself that enables me to work from home, continuously rearrange my schedule, and support a family, I realize my perspective is impossible for her to understand. I see my computer as an instrument of freedom, rather than a ball and chain around my ankle.
I don’t want to give my daughter spreadsheets to update and files to edit. I want to give her the tools to carve out the life she wants. Someday she’ll understand that, but for now we’re both happy to let her play in the mud while mommy stares at the computer.
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This article was published in the Poughkeepsie Journal on 3/14/09 under the title, “Be Like Mommy, Girl Isn’t too Keen”
For over four years I’ve been the primary breadwinner for my family while my husband has taken on the role of stay-at-home-dad.
Although he has his own online business, his primary task was watching our two girls (among a multitude of other things).
It’s been a boon for my business. In the last four years, I haven’t had to worry about snow days, or sick days or week-long school vacations. My husband was always there to watch our children so I could work.
Until last week, that is. The cost of healthcare, combined with the burden of multiple expenses finally became too much for my salary alone.
We ultimately concluded that he had to go back to work, even if it meant a large percentage of his weekly paycheck would go towards health insurance.
We’re lucky. My husband’s old boss, the owner of a woodworking shop in Kingston, was happy to take him back on a part-time basis. As of last Monday, he started working 6 hours a day, four days a week. That’s enough to qualify him for healthcare benefits (including dental!)
The shift from a household with one working parent to a household with two working parents has been a bit rocky.
One of the things I’d forgotten was how kids invite chaos. Even the most flawless plans can go awry when unexpected things happen – like snow closings or strep throat.
Take the snowstorm of last week, for example. School was closed on Monday, but we’d both planned to work. I didn’t have any pressing deadlines or client calls, so we made the decision for me to miss work.
My girls were shocked when they realized I was the one staying home with them. In fact, I was a little shocked myself. The whole experience made me realize that in the past four years, I’ve taken very little time off beyond a week or two of vacation days (mostly scattered throughout the year).
I have to say, I loved taking that day off. I had a great day with the girls and it was very nice not being tethered to my computer all day.
I don’t know why it took me so long to work some personal time into my schedule, but I’m really glad I discovered that the world (and my business) doesn’t stop turning just because I had to take an unexpected day off. My kids are glad too.
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This article was originally published in the Poughkeepsie Journal on 3/7/09
Self-employment was, perhaps, the first opportunity I’d had since I began working full time (back in 1992) to reflect on the process of my work, rather than the product of my work.
Process versus product is an important distinction, as it turns out. For the first 18 years of my working life, I was focused on the product of my work. I don’t mean what my work produced – most of that was intangible anyway (answering phones, editing documents, sitting in meetings, etc.)
The product I’m referring to is my paycheck. I worked for that paycheck and while I took pride in the quality of my work, whatever “work” was at any given time, I didn’t particularly enjoy doing it.
My days were filled with clock watching moments of long-drawn out agony, extremely reminiscent of my childhood years as a student. In fact, this same “clock watching” mentality permeated my school years. I did my work to get better grades, but not through any enjoyment of learning.
So I guess it’s safe to say that self-employment finally put an end to a life time of rushing through the weeks, months and years with the goal of getting the prize at the end – that paycheck. Ironically, I make more money now than I ever thought possible when I worked for that end goal.
But old habits die hard. Even now, in my seventh year of self-employment, I find myself wistfully looking forward. What will life be like in ten years or twenty? What would I do with all the time and (hopefully) money I’ll have in the future when I’m retired?
And speaking of retirement, is it truly the ultimate prize at the end? According to Elderweb, the average age of retirement in 2000 was 62, and the typical retiree could expect to live 18 years or more past the age of retirement.
But what can it mean to live all those years without working, particularly in a country without adequate health coverage or retirement benefits? Is retirement really a prize?
Self-employment has shown me that the notion of spending my time as I please does not have to wait.
So instead of wistfully thinking about all the time I’ll have to do nothing, I’ve begun thinking about retirement as the time I get to do more of the work I love – writing, drawing, learning new things and, yes, working.
I’m beginning to think the prize is the process itself.
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This article was originally published in the Poughkeepsie Journal on January 24, 2009.
