by Heather

Much to your disbelief… I haven’t fallen off the face of the earth. I’ve just been busy earning the award for “slacker blogger.”

Did I win? Maybe. Or perhaps you didn’t even notice that I’ve been absent.

It’s been one month since my little fingers tap, tap, tapped on the keyboard and pounded out a post. I’m sorry y’all. As the lamest excuse goes… Life just got in the way.

To be completely honest I was overwhelmed with school (4 A’s and a B+), family, the renovation and the rental. I had plenty of stories in mind to write. I just didn’t have the time or energy to get ‘em done.
So please forgive me. But just for grins let me throw out some of the titles. They are as follows: “Lipo Might be Cheaper”, “The Battle of the Dog” and “Christmas Crud.”

The Lipo story is based on my belief that lipsuction might be cheaper than buying shape wear, a gym membership and using a personal trainer. I’m still working on the math, but I think I may have a point here.

The Battle of the Dog is about my standoff with our dog, “Bella” AKA “Blanco Diablo.” She has “marked her territory” on my dining room rug TWICE. I naturally had a fit and had the rug shipped off to be scoured and scrubbed TWICE. I’ve set up road blocks and even hot wired the thing to keep her off of it. Much to my chagrin… my electrical get-up isn’t working.  So I’ve rigged the house with baby gates and have trained the children to shoo her away from the rug if there’s been a breach in security. Did I mention she’s the white devil?

Case in point. Here are the kids with Santa’s cookies…

Now here’s Bella eating one of those cookies…

 

Caught the damn dog in the act and snapped a picture with my Iphone. Yeah she knows she’s in trouble!

 

Christmas Crud revolved around the whole family getting sick over Christmas and canceling our ski vacation. Thankfully were able to reschedule. Now we’re laid up on the couch, coughing on each other, slurping NyQuil and Mucinex and watching Christmas movies.

Minus the snot and aches and pains it’s been kinda nice. We’re spending quality time together. Today we even managed to scrape ourselves off the sofa and play a little Wii. My 5 year old schooled me in bowling. He got 5 strikes.

I will try to not be such a slacker in the new year or just schedule my time a little better. I suppose I could make it a new year’s resolution… but I must confess I really don’t believe in those things. Let’s just say I’ll try to be a better Recession Mama. And get control of that dog.

 

-Heather 

 

 

by Heather

I can go on and on about all of the things for which I am thankful. Life is certainly good. Sure life can be hectic and chaotic. But I really have no complaints.

The family and I, along with my mother, sister and brother-in-law will be eating Thanksgiving lunch at the club. (which means I don’t have to cook) Then we’ll head to the Dallas Cowboys game. This is something new and different. We’re all looking forward to it.

If you think about it long and hard, it really doesn’t matter where you spend Thanksgiving. It’s nice to spend it with family, but sometimes that’s not possible.

I’m reminded of the time during college when I stayed at school for Thanksgiving and celebrated with friends. We were all pretty broke, but we managed to throw together quite a spread. I had won some sort of contest at work and used the extra cash to buy a very small (tiny) ham.

I had never cooked a ham in my life, so I called my grandma to get her glazing recipe. I followed it to the letter and glazed the ham with pinapple and brown sugar. It was absolutely beautiful and smelled fantastic! I was so proud that I even took a picture of the darn thing. Then I placed it on the table and sliced it ceremoniously in front of everyone. But as soon as I started slicing it became clear that there was something strange about this ham.

I think the dialogue went something like this.

“What’s that?” someone said.

“What?” I said.

“Yeah. There’s something on it. It looks bizarre.”

A small layer of stiff film began to unravel from the ham and stick straight up in the air. The beautiful glaze was falling apart.

“What the hell did you do to it?”

“Oh crap! I think it’s wax paper or something.”

Why the ham was  wrapped in a thin, almost undetectable layer of paper was beyond me. I was devestated because I cooked a ham with paper on it. PAPER! It’s a miracle I didn’t burn the house down.

Thankfully, everyone was hungry enough to eat it. In fact, I think they got a good laugh out of it and came away with a mildly entertaining “Heather” story. It didn’t taste bad either.

So don’t worry this Thanksgiving if there are a few glitches and giddy-ups in your cooking steps. Nobody really comes to your house for the food. They gather at your table for the laughs and the memories. Relax and enjoy!

by Heather

I’ve gotten this question a few times about myself or my husband and it  always shocks me. I know people are curious, but seriously do they have to ask? Is it really any of their business?

Here’s the answer in case you were curious. I personally don’t make any money. I make nadda, nothing, zilch, diddle squat. I have many job titles but they don’t come with a paycheck. ( Kid  chauffeur, mom, full time student, home renovator, rental property owner)

 Oh sure I work freelance in radio news, but I get paid the same hourly wage I made 10 years ago. It’s the same hourly wage  I pay my nanny. So, if you figure in the cost of the dozen cookies I usually take to work with me… I actually lose money. But I still do it because I enjoy it. I have sometimes referred to this as my “community service.” Does this lack of a paycheck make me a failure? No. But I feel guilty about not contributing financially sometimes.

My husband brings home the bacon. He works hard, really hard. And deserves every cent he makes. Most people would never dream of making the sacrifices he makes and working the hours he works. His salary rewards his success. But  I think he’s a success because he takes care of everyone in his family. He never complains. He always makes time for the kids and me. We’re grateful.

I think we’re all a little guilty of measuring success by the paycheck. But that’s just the wrong way to look at it. I think we should ask ourselves and others “How much of a difference do you make?” instead of “How much money do you make?”

Who cares how much money you make! You’ll never be truly happy until you learn how to help someone else and help make his or her life better.

 

 

by Heather

Please excuse me if I make this brief. I’m still a little woozy after doing math homework while “goofy” on the cold medication.  Yes. I’m sick! I have the same crud that everyone else has or has had. Just last week I bragged about how I had avoided it and then Karma came back to get me.

I felt a little sick over the weekend after going to the Great State Fair of Texas and the UT/OU Red River Rivalry game. I’m not saying they pushed this bug into overdrive, I’m just saying they probably didn’t help.

The Great State Fair of Texas is a cornucopia of people, amusement rides, stockyard animals and fried food of every invention. You haven’t lived until you’ve had a Fletcher’s Corny Dog smothered in mustard! Personally, I can live without ever trying the fried butter, chicken fried bacon and the dozens of other heat attack producing, artery clogging, IBS triggering foods that come out of the Fair. But I do enjoy the corn dog just once a year. The kids like the giant fluffs of cotton candy.

Enjoying some cotton candy

The fair is expensive. They force you to buy everything with coupons. So you don’t realize that a corn dog is way-too- high or that a spin on the Texas Star is over-the-moon. You just know it’s 6 coupons for the fried food on a stick and 7 to 10 coupons for a ride. You just don’t realize you’re getting ripped off because your senses have been slowed by the grease, swarms of people and the dizzying array of lights. Besides it’s a tradition. So much so, they give school kids a free ticket and a day off to enjoy the big fair. (By the way… the fair raked in $25.7 million dollars on food and rides this year.)

http://www.bigtex.com/  (click here to check out the fair)

Now I’m not completely germ-a-phobic, but I don’t think the trip to the fair coupled with a day of screaming at one of the biggest college football rivalry games did me any favors. I lost my voice and now it feels like someone very large is sitting on my chest. Boo hoo… life must go on.

Thankfully, I have a wonderful family who basically let me checkout for the day on Sunday. I stayed in bed, wiped my nose, coughed and convalesced.

Sure my husband made eggs out of the stir fry pan, left the sink full of dishes, and let the kids scatter toys all over the place.  I didn’t have to look at it, so I didn’t care. Honestly he really didn’t have time to take care of that junk because he was busy taking the kids to the park and lunch. My hero

The very thoughtful family brought me a bowl of soup back from lunch. I was hoping for broth, but they served up cream of broccoli and a big piece of tiramisu (not the most sick friendly food, but still appreciated) My very concerned children patted me on the head, wrote me notes, and gave me a stuffed Labrador puppy to help me feel better. They told me they loved me without any prompting. It was so sweet I damn near cried.

My wonderful friend, Ashley, cleaned up the kitchen and ran the kids to birthday parties while my husband was working.

Sure I felt (and still do) like hell. But I think I’m the most blessed person on earth. My dear sweet husband took great care of me and the kids. My friend stepped in to help. And my kids gave me some really adorable Hallmark worthy moments.

 Hacking and coughing aside… It was even better than chowing down on a Fletcher’s Corny dog smothered in mustard. Besides it didn’t cost a coupon or give me heartburn.

(In case you were curious… that cream of broccoli soup was actually good!)

-H

by Heather

If I had to be a female superhero for one day who would I pick?

I can tell you right off the bat that it wouldn’t be Wonder Woman. Sure she looks super cool deflecting bullets with her gold cuffs, lassoing creeps and  kicking bad guy booty while wearing a strapless body suit and boots. But her outfit is too revealing and the most likely to have a wardrobe malfunction. She must have some serious glue holding up that top and a killer bikini wax. And please… who can change clothes just by spinning around in circles?

Photo may be subject to copyright

At least Supergirl wears sleeves and a skirt. That’s doable. Sort of. I imagine it gets a little chilly flying around the city in that get up… not to mention the challenge of not looking windblown.

Image courtesy of Toon Zone

Then there’s Xena: Warrior Princess. This goddess wears leather, carries a sword, rides atop a beautiful horse and goes Medieval on unsavory types. She need only magic and muscle to topple the evil doers. Also, I’m pretty sure she can crack coconuts and skulls with those thighs.

Photo from fanpop.com

I love these super ladies. But their outfits and supernatural skills are completely unattainable. So I must choose another type of super hero. That would have to be women who manage to balance work, school, family, relationships… whatever consumes their lives.

I’m no superhero mamas and papas. I don’t always manage the kids, their school, husband, college, the house, the renovation, the rental property with style and grace. In fact, most of the time I look like a dog chasing its tail. Round and round and round I go. I’m extremely sleep deprived and often over caffeinated.

No fooling. I’ve got a lot on my plate AND I’ve probably bitten off more than I can chew. So something’s gotta go!

Obviously the kids and husband will stay put. Besides I love them more than anything in the world including chocolate. We can’t sell our additional properties, so I will continue to juggle them. And I just started another degree so I plan to stay the course.

That leaves book club, exercise, grooming routine, mom’s night out, eight hours of sleep and TV.

Reading feeds the brain and exercise keeps my brittle bones from turning to dust… so they stay. I’ll continue to slap on a little ”war paint” and brush my hair. I’ll have  girl’s night out during school breaks. Sleep is necessary, eight hours is a luxuary. So I guess that leaves TV.

I have pretty much ditched it. I’m so far behind on my shows that I may never catch up. But I haven’t really missed it. In fact, I’ve discovered how much time I used to waste on watching “crap.”

Sure I’m going to keep tuning into my “favorites” like Mad Men and Dexter. (recorded and watched later) Don Draper is too yummy to give up!

Mad Men AMC

But no more  live TV, new programs and getting involved in mindless reality shows (sorry Housewives of New York).

Starting a new degree, writing a blog, managing three homes and a family is hard work. But I feel fortunate and blessed to be so busy.  It’s forced me to give up foolish junk, get organized and manage my time better.

I’m not a superhero…. not even close. I’ll leave that to the professionals. Besides I don’t think my pony tail and yoga pants would make a very sexy superchic outfit. All I can do is try my best with the time I’m given.

However, I have to admit it would be nice to have a few “superpowers.”

“Wonder Twin Powers activate…. in the shape of dinner and paid bills!”

“Wonder Twin Powers activate.. in the form of happy-to-take-a-bath-and-go-to-bed children.”

Sigh…. Maybe in another life and comic book.

(check out the Wonder Twins cartoon below)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qdZ4JgGm2p4

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qdZ4JgGm2p4]

-H

By Heather

I was fortunate enough to witness sports history this weekend. Well sports stadium history anyway. The Dallas Cowboys had their first home game in the new stadium. Yes, the stadium is BIG. And yes it is really amazing. But after looking at the old stadium anything looks good. Unfortunately, the Cowboys didn’t dazzle like the stadium. They lost to the Giants. (can anyone scream turnovers!)

Cowboys owner, Jerry Jones, is a proud papa of this new stadium. So proud that video aired before the start of the game compared the stadium to the Taj Mahal, Parthenon and other historical monuments. That might be taking it a bit too far. But I’m going to give Mr. Jones the benefit of the doubt and take it as a joke. I was giggling anyway.

The jumbo tron is well…. JUMBO! It’s so big I was distracted during the game. At 159 x 72 ft. it’s large and in charge. You can’t take your eyes off of the thing. I darn near got motion sickness while watching the Cowboys Cheerleaders do their high kicks.

 

 

 

 

Photo by Star-Telegram

 

Bye the way… this Jumbo tron doesn’t do anyone any favors. You can see fuzz, nose hairs, zits, any little defect on someone. I saw Jerry Jones scratching (picking) his nose, and a player tugging on his jock strap. I even saw a hint of cellulite on one of the cheerleaders and she burns thousands of calories a day dancing and kicking. Couple a too big screen with HD TV and you have some “reality” television. I shudder to think what I would look like on that thing. Stay away fan cam! Stay far, far away.

So was the whole thing worth the cost of admission ($340 a ticket for our seats), knocking down an entire neighborhood, and paying ungodly sums of money for refreshments and t-shirts and other merchandise? NO! But I was happy to be there anyway. I was happy to be in a stadium that was all shiny and new. I actually felt a little proud.

Just for the record the $10 truffle mac-n-cheese wasn’t any better than microwavable Kraft. My nearly $20 margarita (that’s for 1 not a pitcher) made me break into a sweat and left red splotches on my neck and chest. But it did help lessen the sting of a humiliating Cowboys loss. Sort of.

I’m sure you’re wondering why I haven’t included pictures of me at the stadium. That’s easy to answer. I forgot my camera. Ooops. I tried to take a pic with my phone, but frankly it looks horrible.

 Here’s a better picture of the outside.

(It really does glow like this at night. It’s like walking into a space ship or “Heaven” as I heard someone describe it.)

 Hey Jerry… if  you’re reading this blog, feel free to reimburse me for the refreshments. Better yet… how ’bout you cover next year’s season tickets. Just send the loot to my house.

Until then, make sure you’re not caught on the jumbo tron scratching body parts and tell quarterback Tony Romo to stop throwing interceptions.

See ya at the Thanksgiving game!

Check out the Cowboys and their new stadium @ http://www.dallascowboys.com/

By Heather

If I told you how much we had to pay in property tax last year you would probably gasp. I know I did. I also nearly cried when I wrote the check. I am grateful we could cover it. But still…. it hurt.

Much of that check went to the public school district where my son now attends kindergarten. “Well at least we don’t have to cover private school tuition,” we thought. School was covered by the property tax.

But not really. We soon discovered that because of the “Robin Hood Act” in our state , 70 percent of the district’s tax dollars actually end up in other schools.  That leaves parents to cover the rest. And thus the fundraising has begun.

Every school does this. You probably did it too. As a kid, I hocked candy, books, popcorn, ornaments and other crap to my neighbors and relatives. My next door neighbor, Mr. Hamburger, never failed to contribute. He even forgave me the time I collected his money and forgot to turn in his order. I got into BIG trouble with my parents.  (I had to work for the money to pay him back)

I can now add wrapping paper saleswoman to my list of items. Our first fundraiser is to sell wrapping paper. There’s also something call “Scot Bucks.” But I haven’t figured out what those are yet. It sounds like Monopoly money to me.

I’ve also purchased fundraising goods such as bumper stickers, yard signs and t-shirts. In November, the parents will hold fundraising auction. They’re asking for donations from $500 to $10,000 or more. GULP!  

Yes, we live in a highly ranked, highly desirable school district, but our school will not get many of the basic teaching tools  unless parents pay for them. The same parents who’ve already paid a fortune in property tax.

The fundraising efforts of mom’s and dad’s help pay for supplemental teacher salaries, all technology needs, sports equipment, school supplies, art and music programs, and facility upkeep.  

The elementary school is in an old charming building in the middle of the neighborhood. But the community has outgrown it. So many of the classes are held in portable buildings. Our tax money will not be used to add much needed extra space. Parents are raising money for that too.

We feel grateful and fortunate to live in such a great community so I don’t want to complain, but I do see a potential problem. We’re in a recession. So many parents will not be able to pitch in financially this year or next. I don’t think this will send our wonderful school into ruin. But it could affect what new teaching tools could be purchased for our kids in the future.

But it is what it is. And whining won’t solve the problem. So I guess I better dust off my sales skills and get selling.

Wrapping paper anyone?

By Heather

My husband and I were recently talking about our 10 year wedding anniversary which is coming up this Friday, September 11th. I asked him to name his favorite moment of the wedding. He quickly answered “The shot table and the reception…”

(insert eyebrow lift from me)

“And of course saying I do,” he added.  

(insert smile from me)

We’ve been together for 13 years. Most of the time it feels like we just met… other times it feels like a hundred years. Occasionally, we want to whack each other on the head with a frying pan. Thankfully, we’ve never actually done this.

We had a “frying pan” moment over the weekend thanks to a massage. It was just 50 minutes, but it felt like an excruciating 24 hours and a HUGE waste of our money. Money that I want to demand back, but I’m afraid it might get someone fired. So I probably won’t.

We were out-of-town and decided to treat ourselves with massages. The plan was simple.  We would take turns at the spa while the other one watched the kids. I would go to the first appointment which was at 8 am. He would go at 9. They were 50 minutes each. I asked to leave a few minutes early, so he could make it to his treatment on time.

Best laid plans. Right?

I rolled out of bed and got to my appointment 15 to 20 minutes before my session. I told the therapist I needed to leave early. He said “fine.” Then he kept talking.

I’d like to point out that I LOVE massages. I’ll let almost anyone give me a massage as long as they knead me like a loaf of honey wheat bread. Nothing can deter me from getting a massage. (not even a life threatening MRSA staph infection which I got from a spa in Vegas)

I’ve paid a lot of money over the years for spa treatments and I’ve had my fair share of “AWESOME” and “FRIGHTENING.” But this is the first  a massage has caused me to point my finger and yell at my husband in a hotel hallway. (Not my finest moment)

Consider some of my more disturbing massage moments. There was the massage student who rubbed my abs and asked me to call him sometime. Ewww. The nice Italian woman who rubbed my boobs with olive oil. Ickkk. A man in Greece who grabbed my ankles, pulled them over my head to my ears while straddling me. Wowza! Thank goodness I was wearing underwear. Or how about the therapist who ran out of the room only to return and announce that she had diarrhea. Ughh. None of this has EVER made me scream at one of the people I love most on earth.

I can handle too much oil, horrible music, chanting and a little weirdness. But I CANNOT handle a chatty Kathy who talks and talks and talks when I’m trying to relax.

This was unfortunately the case. The therapist told me about his daughter’s surgery, his life as a single parent, the three months he spent trying to pass a kidney stone and Amber, the therapist, who had a crush on the hotel’s personal trainer. Then he delved into my parent’s divorce, my arthritis, how often I pick up my kids, etc. He talked so much he forgot to massage half of my body. He got my back and left arm. The rest was left high and dry. Then the wind-bag ran past our time. That made my husband late for his massage.

He was mad, I yelled it wasn’t my fault in a crazy person way. Then we spent the three hour drive home in silence. (or as much as you can with two kids) Relaxation ruined.

Later when we got home he walked by, gave me a little pat and said I love you. The frying pan moment was over. 10 years of wedded bliss restored!

 This takes me back to our conversation about our wedding day. I told him that although I did enjoy the “shot bar” at the reception my favorite moment was feeling so calm and certain about marrying him.

“I never had a doubt.”

Then without blinking he actually asked if I would book massages when we celebrate our anniversary later this week.

“Really?”

Now that’s love.

By Heather

Since I have no talent for drawing, let me start by creating a picture with words. I’m sitting in a classroom full of people (most of whom are half my age) trying to draw squares. Not just any kind of squares, but two-point perspectives from observed reality. (kinda like a 3-D square)

We’re all perched on our stools, hovering over drafting tables and paper. Our T-squared rulers and triangles are lining up with our vanishing points, as we make light marks with our “HB” pencils. I manage to get the line on the drafting paper and I feel like shouting Ta-Dum! (but I don’t) Instead I silently congratulate myself on following the teacher’s instructions correctly.

I line up more angles and draw lines, but pretty soon my square looks  like a Rubik’s Cube. I feel like shouting &*%&! (but I don’t) Instead I comment to the girl on my left that my square looks like an iconic 80’s toy.

“You’re probably too young to remember Rubik’s Cubes.” I tell her.

“No I know about them. They’re  retro,” she says.

(Retro is a nice way of saying something is old, but still cool.)

http://www.rubiks.com/

Rubik’s Cube girl tries to help me as does the artist sitting to my right. But I’m like Lucille Ball at the chocolate factory. I can’t keep up with everyone else, so I just want to spew obscenities, scream and eat my drafting paper.

2 min 57 sec – Aug 4, 2006 - [youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4wp3m1vg06Q]_ www.youtube.com/watch?v=4wp3m1vg06Q

Last week, I was so energized about starting another degree, feeling good about expanding my resume, possibly contributing to the family funds one day and reaching a goal. But now I feel deflated, because I LITERALLY CAN’T GET PAST SQUARE ONE.

I finally raise my hand and confess that I’m clueless and can’t  make this friggin’ square look right. The teacher is so nice a patient with me. I try again. But soon I’m frustrated… and distracted by a conversation between two classmates.

“Dude. He is so hot. Beautiful hot. Dude it’s weird how pretty he is.”

“I know. Where are we going to party Friday dude.”

“Dude. I don’t know.”

I’m trying to concentrate, but I seriously can’t stop wondering when 18-year-old girls started calling each other “dude.”

Back to the squares. Or rather me, the square.

I’ve always had a problem with following instructions. I listen, but I usually interpret them the wrong way. I’m just not wired right I suppose.

Case in point, my 5th grade book report. We were told to make shadow boxes using a scene from our book. I read the ”Palomino Pony.” I put dirt in a boot box, put in real grass, tin foil for water and sawed a horse off of a trophy. I also made little bails of hay and spelled out “Palomino Pony” in yarn. I dragged my creation to school the next day feeling really proud. I just knew Mr. McCall would love it and give me an excellent grade! (Keep in mind this is the teacher who gave me licks in third grade over a book report.)

But praise and accolades were not to be had. Mr. McCall took one look at my shadow box and said “You’ll have to do this over. You didn’t do it right.”

Back to present day. My drafting paper has become such a mess that my instructor finally tells me to start over. But then she, plus Rubik’s cube girl and artist guy, guide me through it. I manage to get three squares done correctly. Just SIX more to go! grrrr..

“Dude. Where ARE we going to party Friday.”

“I don’t know dude, but your line is all screwed up.”

“I know dude. (laughing) #$%!”

Hmmm.. she took the words right out of my mouth.

By the way… when class was over (four hours later)…about six or eight people were still working on the squares. The instructor told us that “creative people always have a hard time with drafting at first.” I hope this means I’m creative… and not just hopeless.

-Heather

From Heather

George Eliot once said  “It is never too late to be what you might have been.”

Just think about that for a moment. It is never too late to be what you might have been. Most of us spend a lot of time talking about the “would’ve, could’ve, should’ve” moments of our lives. But why not turn that into “I did, I can, I showed ‘em.”

Today’s guest blogger, Tammy Jo, embodies that very philosophy. She’s re-invented herself many, many times. I’m sure she’ll never stop. When life throws her a curve ball, she just changes her approach and knocks it out of the ballpark. I think we all can learn something from her. So pay attention mamas and papas!

 

       

   By Tammy Jo

    In the last year, around 5.9 million Americans have lost their jobs.  Have you?  Or do you still work but just have no job satisfaction?  If you answered “yes” to either question, have I got an idea for you!  No, this is not an advertisement for a “make millions by stuffing envelopes at home” scheme.  This is a chance to reinvent yourself. You may ask, “How? Why?” 

     The “how” is easy.  There is no better time since the GI Bill after World War II to get government money for education. The government has a stash of cash in financial aid for students.  Even if you do not think you qualify, apply. Whether you have quit, been laid off, down-sized, suffered a redundancy, or just plain fired from a job, learn how to recession-proof yourself or at least make yourself more marketable. It is not just reinvention, it is reinvesting. 

Whatever money you use to learn a new skill, trade or career, the money is well spent.  Instead of spending $500 on a handbag, take some classes.  Whatever it takes to make yourself more marketable — do it. 

The “why” may not be as easy as the “how.” Maybe you are in a dying industry. Maybe you need to learn something new or improve a skill to stay current. Maybe you have been dreaming of doing (fill in the blank) and never had the time.  Or maybe you just think you are too old to do anything different.  Get over yourself! Even a very old dog can  learn a new trick! 

 Walk with me down memory lane.  For about 10 years, I had been working in marketing and promotions in the entertainment industry.  Ah, the stories I could tell you!  But I digress.   Eventually, I inched my way up the pay scale until I was earning high 5 figures but I realized that as a corporate marketing employee, my department would always be one of the first on the chopping block, and I would never be the master of my own destiny.  Then about 8 years ago, my husband was transferred to a new city and I did not have a job.  That’s when I decided to go to law school.  It would be a career for a lifetime, not just a job. With one license, I could practice anywhere in Texas and I could always work — even if it was for myself.   And so, at 33, I went to law school.  It was a sacrifice to live on one income for 3 years but it was worth it. I have been practicing law now for several years. But the story does not end there. 

            After having 2 children, I realized that working in a law firm and being a slave to billable hours did not give me the flexibility I needed to participate in my children’s school activities.  I wanted to be “there” for my kids, wherever “there” was. I decided to become an elementary school teacher at a private school.  The pay would be less but I would get a tuition discount which would make up the difference.  The best part was that I would be on the same schedule as my kids. Plus, there is something very rewarding about shaping young minds.  So, at the ripe old age of 40, I enrolled in an alternative teacher certification program and after 6 weeks of learning classroom management, obtaining state-mandated observations hours and passing the EC-4 content exam, I became “Highly Qualified” (according to the federal “No Child Left Behind Act”) to teach Pre-K through 4th grade.  I now have two recession-proof careers – theoretically speaking. 

            But I’m not the only one who has reinvented themselves.  Lots of people are doing it everyday.  My best friend decided to become a licensed Interior Designer after countless years in broadcast journalism.  Rather than become a casualty in a dying industry, she goes to school with people half her age but is doing something that is fulfilling a dream.  Another friend left a lucrative job in sales to pursue a dream of being a writer.  She completely downsized her life and barely made ends meet, but she eventually co-authored a published book, edited a magazine, and has opened her own public relations agency. 

            If you have some down time on your hands these days, how will you use it? Will you embrace it as a learning experience and a chance to fulfill a dream or interest? Or will you continue down your path of complaints and complacency?  There is no better time than the present to reassess, reinvent and reinvest in yourself. Go ahead you deserve it!

-Tammy Jo