Mountain Mama

Home again

We're home. Finally. We lost our Internet connection Thursday and did not get it back at the beach house before we left Saturday. No matter. We all left early Saturday on our separate journeys--Dad and Stephen back home, Mom and David sticking around for David's flight back to Oregon Sunday, and Paul, the girls, and I on to my mother-in-law's house for the night. Today we woke at my MIL's, went to church there, then on to my brother-in-law's for a party for several graduating family members. We didn't get home until 3ish this afternoon.

I was ready to be home, happy that there had been rain during the week and my plants didn't die. In fact, the garden looks great! Tomorrow (Monday), we'll check on it more closely.

Summer school starts tomorrow (Monday) for me, but other than the one class it is now officially Summer Break for us. Owen will not go to school. Paul will not go to work. My mom will not be coming to take care of Barrett. We have exactly three months until Fall semester begins. I find the prospect both thrilling and a tiny bit frightening.

Given our new schedule of ongoing family togetherness punctuated by my class, I will not be as frequently in front of the computer. I will likely only have the evenings, after the girls go to bed, for blogging and reading blogs. So for my blog friends, let me apologize in advance if I do not comment as often on your posts. It doesn't mean I'm not reading them, just not as frequently and as much as before. I do hope to keep up posting regularly and that you will keep reading.

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Our vacation was wonderful and I won't bore you with it for too much longer. Just some highlights ans last photos.

1. I have to say the best part of the whole trip was watching my girls charm my brothers. My oldest brother David lives in the Western part of the country and we only see him once a year, if we're lucky. He had not even met Barrett until this trip. My brother Stephen lives in Charlotte, so we see him more frequently, but still not too often and certainly not for long when we do. They were both able to spend time with the girls and I loved watching them.

David and Boo Bear

Stephen and Owen Jane

2. I also loved watching my girls enjoy the beach so much. And, of course, I enjoyed taking pictures of them. Here are a few of my favorites:

3. To view most of the entire set of photos from our trip, go to my Topsail Beach Flickr set here.

For now, it is late and I am very very tired, so I will go to bed.

Our child care dilemma

Last week MSN had this article on their Money page: The Child-Care Crisis. I found it interesting because we've been facing some decisions regarding child care lately and it was something I've been meaning to explore on this blog.

Here is our child care story:

When Owen was born, we were a two-income family living in Raleigh, NC, a good-sized city in the larger metropolitan area known locally as the Triangle (made up of Raleigh, Durham, and Chapel Hill, as well as a number of smaller towns absorbed by the rampant growth). This area is a large technology area, with a specific concentration of large companies in an area between Durham and Raleigh known as Research Triangle Park. Here Paul worked as a design engineer for a telecommunications company, making good money with good benefits (generous vacation time, good health insurance, 401k, and the like). I was working for a nonprofit organization that was growing and busy and paid fairly well for the field. We had our house mortgage but no other debt. Our cars were paid off, our educations paid off. Every month we spent what we wanted on our credit cards and paid them off at the end of the month--using them as true charge cards.

Then Owen came along. I had twelve weeks of maternity leave (unpaid) and then had to go back to work. So I began searching for daycare. In Raleigh, this was easy--there are daycare centers on every corner and multiple branches of every major child care organization to choose from. I chose a Bright Horizons center near our home. It cost slightly more than our mortgage. Oh well, we thought, that's the price of good child care. Plus, we could afford it.

Even when Paul became ill and we had to live on his disability for a while, we kept Owen at Bright Horizons. Mom came to stay with us to help us in the evenings and weekends since, at the time, my job required me to have 24-hour on-call days four-five days a week. I kept Owen at Bright Horizons because 1) I thought the social interaction of the day care setting was good for her; 2) I thought that the folks at Bright Horizons would do things with her to stimulate her development that I would not know to do or know how to do; and 3) I did not want to impose on my mom and ask her to keep Owen (who was six months old at the beginning of the ordeal) full-time.

Then we made our choice to cut our income significantly and move to Western North Carolina, to a much smaller town. (Those of you who have been reading this blog for a while know the whole story.) I had also been thinking for a while about trying to stay home with Owen. I was a bit disillusioned with Bright Horizons--the size, the number of kids, the lack of interest on the part of some teachers.

So, in July of 2005, I quit my job, took Owen out of daycare, and my mom came home. In August of that same year, Paul moved to WNC and began his new job teaching. He lived with my Dad and Owen and I stayed in Raleigh trying to sell our house. By Fall, Paul was working hard to make his way in a new field, I was going stir crazy alone 24-7 with a toddler, the house wasn't selling, pressure was building, and we were arguing every time we saw each other.

So Paul found a rental for us and we moved, so that we could be together. Dad got me an interview with the community college; they were willing to give me a try part-time starting in January, 2006; and by-the-way there happened to be a day care center at the college. And they had an opening for Owen. And the cost was half what we were paying in Raleigh.

Of course, our income was also half what it was in Raleigh.

Still, all was well, and things were working out. So we decided to try for another baby.

We finally sold our house, found a new one, and discovered we were pregnant the same day we moved in. Being part-time, my job was flexible and I found I could pick up more classes earlier in the pregnancy so that I could teach fewer classes later in the pregnancy. Mom was an hour away in case Owen needed to stay home from school for any reason. My dad, too, was available to help with child care and transportation on snow days or sick days or just because.

Again, all was well. And then...

I started looking into options for child care for the baby. The day care center at the community college only takes children over 1 year old. Same with the child care lab at the University where Paul teaches. Same with every child care center run by the local child care commission, which runs all of the five-star facilities. I started calling home-based child care referred by the state licensing agency. Most sort of sniffed as if I should be crazy to even ask about an opening. As my pregnancy progressed, I was coming up with nothing.

Then came my mom in shining armor upon her white horse. She offered take care of the baby for a few months. After all, Barrett was due in the mid-term of the Spring semester and it would only be eight weeks. So, we accepted. And mom came to stay with us during the week, arriving Monday afternoon and leaving Thursday afternoon, taking care of Barrett while I worked.

Summer came and I was able to stay home with her. Paul worked some that summer but was home early every afternoon. We kept Owen at the preschool because to take her out would mean we would lose our slot, unless we continued to pay for it. We also thought the consistency of maintaining her regular schedule was best for her.

Come Fall, I agreed to take on a full load of classes again. And I still could not find an opening for an infant. So, again, my Mom (bless her) stepped in. We aimed for Feb, 2008 for Barrett's entry into daycare. Then she would be one year old and Owen's daycare center (the one at my college) would accept her into the toddler classroom.

I got on the waiting list. I made a point of taking Barrett in with me once in a while. The teachers made a point of getting to know her (so the transition would be smoother and she would be more comfortable). All seemed to be lining up just right.

In September, we received a letter from Owen's center (one of the ones run by the local commission). It seems by their analysis, child care centers in the state are getting much more than we were paying. In fact some areas of the state they are getting more than twice what we were paying for Owen. So, they were raising the their prices. For toddlers between 1-3 the price went up by half. Half! That's the amount we were paying already plus another half of that! For children in the preschool classroom (where Owen is now) the amount rose by a third. Effective November 1--Merry Christmas to the family.

[Now, yes, I do realize that child care expenses increase and so rates must increase. That the teachers must be paid fair wages for all the work they do. What I resented was the wording of the letter which implied that one of the major reasons for the increase was that other centers in the state were getting away with significantly higher prices. Never mind that those centers are located in cities where the average family income is significantly higher.]

So we debated and discussed. I wanted to keep Owen there because the center is not only convenient to my work, it's in the same building. Plus changing day care is stressful on a young child and she is comfortable there. She has her friends, she likes her teachers, Dad and I are nearby, it's a community.

But what to do about Barrett. Of course, this center is the most convenient, and all of the other five-star rated centers are run by the same commission so will have the same costs. And her sister is there. And they know her and like her and can't wait to get her. But the cost of having both children at that center would be almost double the cost of my home mortgage payment. Almost double. We simply cannot afford it and pay Paul's tuition and live within our paychecks. We would have to go into debt--for child care. And that makes no sense whatsoever.

It also means that my working is useless in terms of contributing to our family finances. In fact, with both children in daycare, we are paying for me to work. Now, I choose to work for several reasons: one, to maintain my employability for the future; two, to maintain my sanity, because I do not do well at home; and three, because I like teaching and it makes me a better...me. This is my choice, my personality, my family and what works for us. However, if we are having to pay for me to work, those reasons start seeming hollow.

We've been round and round the issue as Barrett's birthday looms this week. And, after much agonizing and discussion with Mom, we have decided to keep her (Mom) on until the end of the semester. Again, she has truly become our lifesaver (can you see why I am so grateful to her?).

In addition, we've decided to take Owen out of preschool for the summer, saving at least two months of her child care costs. Hopefully, when August comes, we will have saved enough to pay for Paul's tuition and for care for both children (or we will have found somewhere cheaper). Hopefully, there will still be slots available.

So, that's our child care story, for now. As the article mentioned, this is one part of parenting they don't tell you about when you're pregnant, and many of us never realize just how difficult these decisions are until we're right in the thick of it.

Dry

I am feeling dried up, uninspired. I have little to say of any import, and I feel as if all of the creativity has been sucked out of me.

I sit down to write and my endless "to-do" list runs through my head. Either that or my grocery list, or my meal plan. Or, hah, that word, which seems to mock me as I have things and people and children literally and figuratively pulling on me. How can I possibly pay attention to it all?

This Spring semester is going to be hell.

Here's my situation: I am considered a part-time instructor at the local community college, which means I get part-time pay, no benefits, and no guarantee of work (or of a certain level of work) from semester to semester. I do like teaching, very much. I like the students, I like talking about psychology, and I like the flexibility it gives me--a valuable asset to a mom. As part-time, though, I have to teach more classes, have more contact hours, in order to put together enough pay to make it worth my time and energy. How I've done this is to teach on two different campuses of the same college. MWF in one place and T-Th in another. This makes it almost like two part-time teaching jobs.

Another element to this is that as a part-timer, I have to accept whatever the department wants me to teach, which ends up being the courses the full-timers and those with seniority don't want to teach. So mostly I teach Introductory (aka General) Psychology. Occasionally, they'll throw me a bone and allow me to teach something different and more interesting. Last year it was Social Psychology (something I confess I did not know much about).

This semester they've given me two new classes (in addition to my three sections of General Psychology). This is great because it makes teaching more exciting when I can do something different and because I happen to find the subjects fascinating and because I like coming up with fun and interesting ways to teach new material. It's not good because when I teach a class I've never taught before, there is a great deal more preparation necessary for each class. I can't just rely on what I've done before because I haven't done this before.

Now as if five classes, including two new ones, weren't enough, I have accepted another part-time job on top of my teaching. This job, with the University, is a position which involves working closely with online students (not teaching but supporting the instructor). Because of the nature of the job, I can do it anywhere I can access a computer, so I can work from my community college office or from home. I can work any hours I want, as long as I get the job done.

Sounds great, right? Yes, it would be great, I think, were I working at this job only.

However this new job is a new position at the University, and so we are trying to figure out the parameters and demand and work load and all of that as I go through it. On top of five classes. On top of two of those five being new classes.

I think I'm in over my head.

Classes started this week. My new job starts tomorrow. Earlier in the week I met with my new boss to discuss the steps and tasks involved in the position. Since that meeting, I have had a very difficult time paying attention to much else outside of my anxiety.

Oh, and there's my family on top of all of this. You remember...my children.

Right now my mother is still coming to stay with us during the week so that she can care for Barrett while I teach. Owen still goes to preschool at at the community college. When she turns one in Feb, Barrett can go there, too, and my mom will go home. Which means she won't be here in the mornings to help us get everyone ready. She won't be here in the evenings to help corral the girls while I cook dinner.

Yes, please, I am very much aware of the fact that couples all over the world (even single people everywhere) manage their children without help. And yes, please I know that they are our children and we love them and we can certainly take care of them. But think about it: if you were used to having someone here to help and suddenly they weren't, you'd miss it. I'm just saying that's another element to add.

Now here's the good news. This semester, unlike last, Paul and I have schedules that will allow us to both be home every night for dinner, so we can eat together as a family. This is something that is important to me, something I want for our family.

The other good news is that, well, we'll have more income. Of course, that was the point of all of this, why I took a second job. Not that we weren't making it on our previous pay. We have always valued living nearly debt-free (except mortgages) and living within our means. And we have always been able to achieve those goals. But with the reduction in our overall income since we came here to WNC, we have not been able to go beyond living within our means. We've not been able to save for vacations, to buy extras like the camera I want, to save for our children's educations/futures, to put away money for retirement. With the extra pay from my second job, we'll be able to keep to our financial goals and save for the rest.

So there it is. My upcoming semester, the source of my anxiety, and the reason I cannot think of a single thing to write about except to whine about my semester. Thinking about this is draining me. Perhaps writing it all out like this will help.

Right now, a storm is coming down the valley and Paul is watching a movie (3:10 to Yuma) so my attention is being pulled again. Thank you for staying with me.

Update

Some random thoughts to give you an update on our lives:

1. This is my busy week. The semester ends Friday and I have to turn in my grades Monday. Of course that means the usual last-minute scramble by students who realize that if only they had turned in that homework...or damn, I missed that test. Plus grading final presentations and the last exam and blah blah blah. I will be done and done on Monday before lunch. Then a nice long break until January. Of course I am teaching three new classes next semester, so I will probably spend the break reading up and preparing for those.

2. Honey is no longer with us. She's not dead, she is in a home. As much as I would have liked to keep her, I don't like chaining up a dog and I don't like pens and I could no longer let her run free. She chewed up our neighbor's Christmas candy cane lights ($50 worth he claimed). So I needed to either step up to the plate and claim her, meaning take her in and train her for the house or for an invisible fence, or we needed to find a home for her. I really wanted to find a home where she could be a companion dog--she seemed so sweet and gentle and smart. The neighbor (of the destroyed lights) ended up finding her a home with a hunter friend of his brother-in-law. And really, I do understand: she was bred for hunting, that's what she does, and I guess I'm not really against hunting with dogs per se (although it seems to be not very sporting). But I have heard terrible stories of the way a lot of hunters around here treat dogs: chaining them to a 55-gallon drum as a house (this I've seen) and not interacting with them other than to feed them and hunt them; shooting a dog who is not good in the hunt; beating dogs into obedience. The very neighbor who claimed the home she went to was a good one stood on our porch and talked about beating as a proper way to train any dog. I just do not agree and did not want Honey, that sweet soul, to go somewhere like that to live.

But I did not step up and take responsibility for her. I did not speak up and let Paul know that I really did want her. So I can't really criticize. I feel bad, though, about the way the whole thing turned out.

Paul says, given Honey was the third hound dog to show up on our doorstep in a year's time, that we'll probably have another come around sooner or later. They're not likely to have Honey's sweet, soulful eyes and gentle demeanor. I hope she's happy.

3. Barrett had her nine-month well baby check-up Friday. She has grown 3 inches in as many months and gained two pounds! Growing growing. I love the little slap-slap sound of her hands as she makes her swiftly crawling way across the floor. I love the way she kicks her legs with excitement when you pick her up. I love her angelic sleeping face. I love her smile, those dimples, the little verbalizations she makes: "Ma-ma-ma," "Da-da-da," something that sounds a bit like "Ah" and something that sounds a bit like "Uh-oh." That last one appeared just this weekend and she's been using it over and over, experimenting, testing.

She is a challenging child, however. She gets into everything. We have an elaborate system of blockades around the Christmas tree. One time she broke through and I found her happily munching on the broken end of a glass ball ornament. She had removed the metal hook attachment and decided to chew the raw glass edge. No cuts or injuries, although I did have to fish pieces of it out of her mouth. And that in just a brief minute as I walked across the room to pick something up.

We've blocked off access to most lamp cords, outlets, the bookcase, and other dangerous objects. Nevertheless she goes straight to those items, testing limits, exploring her boundaries. Changing her diaper is much like roping a steer she wiggles so much. We have to hold her partly down with our bodies as we wrap that diaper around quick before releasing her to leap away. Half the time I feel like lifting my arms in an "all clear" gesture once the final tape is in place.

Since she was sick, she has stopped sleeping through the night and ends up every night in our bed. Friday I insisted she get a flu shot (last year we all got the flu and I didn't want that to happen again), but I regretted it later that night when we were calling the doctor over her 103.5 temperature. She has a cold now...again. This one is a little better than the last.

4. Except that we all have it again. First Paul, Barrett, and Owen this weekend, now me. I feel terrible (not quite as terrible as Alissa did). My skin hurts, I'm achy, my head is splitting, my nose keeps dripping, my throat hurts--terrible.

5. I need to get into gear with the Christmas gifts, wrapping, sending packages across the country, ordering my calendars (I do one for family and friends), cards, etc. All will come in time, I guess, but shipping and ordering deadlines loom.

Others of my blog buddies have done this so I will put it out there to you: if you would like a Christmas card from us, please email me your address and I will send you one (Alissa and Melissa--you guys are already on the list now that I've received yours). I promise I won't do anything stalkerish or unethical with your address. Just a little card exchange. I do love Christmas cards--sending and receiving--despite the fact that it's not very environmentally-friendly. It's people-friendly. Make sure you recycle it somehow, then.

6. I was so busy that last week I didn't stick to my meal plan and this week I didn't even make one. We'll see how that goes. Monday night my mom made Tuna Casserole for us (my personal comfort food), and tonight I whipped up some of that Stove Top stuff with chicken. Easy, but not the most exciting. I haven't even been to the grocery store this week.

7. I bought myself a present of Christine Kane's new CD, recorded live in Asheville. I love it. Especially the song: "Right Outta Nowhere", which has the following lines: "When courage finally comes, you never see it coming. Right outta nowhere. You open your heart and that changes everything. You're going somewhere, and all you need to know is that you're free to go." Great song, among several. Lyrics from another song, "Overjoyed" say: "All of the world is designed to remind you,all of the light you could find is inside, under all of the noise, here's your chance to be overjoyed." Christine has a blog, which I have referred to here before. Make sure you check her out.

There you go: my brain dump for the day. Now I'm going to take some Nyquil and go to bed.

Being the change

You must be the change you wish to see in the world--Mahatma Ghandi

I am not usually a person who takes a stand. Oh, I'll complain like the rest of us to anyone within earshot. But I'm not the person who actually sits down and writes the letter, who makes the phone call, who sets the meeting to discuss my objections or issues. I will think about doing all those things, even plan what I would have said. But when it comes down to it, I let my natural passivity take over.

But that was before having children. For my child's sake, I am braver, stronger, ready to protect and defend. And by doing so, I recently discovered, I may even be able to create true change.

Owen goes to daycare/preschool at the community college where I teach. In fact, the center is in the same building as my office, my Dad's office, and our classrooms. I like having her so close; I like the low teacher-child ration they have; and I like that they train child development students there.

Recently, our community college announced to faculty and staff that they will be having a couple of "Critical Incident" drills on campus (in response to the Va Tech tragedy and other school shootings). During one of these drills, they will have local law enforcement and emergency personnel responding. They will lock down every building. It's a big deal. They even plan to cancel classes and have all students and visitors leave campus.

But they did not plan to close the daycare center.

Their idea was to make sure the children were inside and occupied during the drill so that they would not know what was happening, with law enforcement, emergency personnel, air horns, and God knows what else going on. In the same building. I felt very strongly that this was not the right approach. For several reasons, which I will not list here.

I felt so strongly about that I wrote a letter to my Dean and asked her to forward it to the relevant party. She did, and the chairperson of the committee responded in sort of a dismissing way. He suggested I talk to the area director for the agency that manages the child care center. So I wrote her a letter, listing my objections, my reasons, and proposing some solutions. It was a pretty good letter, I think.

However, I heard no response from anyone on the letter. No "I got it", no "Thank you for your concerns, but...", nothing. I wasn't even sure if the letter was received.

Then yesterday, a letter was given to all the parents of the child care center, informing them of the drills and that the center will be closed for the full drill. They cited two of the reasons I had listed in my letter.

Of course, I have no way of knowing if other parents made similar complaints. But I like to think that by using my voice to speak up, I helped to create the change. I'm proud of myself.