May. 9. 2012
To my son or daughter,
I am writing you this letter because I want you to one day know how much you were loved and wanted before I was even pregnant with you.
I also want to tell you the story of how your father and I met and fell in love, the love that created you.
Your dad and I met in the summer of 2010 when I first started working at _______. When we met we were both in relationships. Your dad was still with the mother of your brothers and sister, and I was also in a long term relationship.
From the moment I met your dad, I knew there was something special about him. I worked with him for over a year and always liked him and had a little crush on him, but never really thought anything of it because we were both in relationships.
After a year or so I noticed that your dad was really sad and asked him what was going on, and found out that he had ended his relationship. My heart went out to him, I could see the pain in his eyes and I wished there was something I could do to take away his pain.
I started to talk to your dad more, and developed a friendship with him, and before long I realized I had feelings for him. I never thought in a million years that anything would ever happen between us.
As time went on I became more and more attracted to your dad. I found myself making up excuses to work late just to spend time with him, and looked forward to the days when I would get to work with him.
I was so drawn to him, and I constantly wanted to touch him. It physically hurt me to resist the urge to wrap my arms around him.
Meanwhile my relationship was miserable, but I just didn’t have the strength to leave. One Friday night some coworkers and I decided to go out and I begged your dad to come too. I so badly wanted to spend time with him, despite the fact that my partner was there with me.
When he showed up it was the first time I had seen him outside of work and he looked so handsome. I so badly wanted to sit next to him at dinner. When we were out later, him and I ended up sitting at opposite ends of the group, me with my partner, and him all alone.
I couldn’t stop looking at him all night and so badly wanted to be sitting with him. I kept talking about him and was concerned that he was lonely. I would walk past him and chat with him and put my hands on him. It was a really difficult night, wanting him so badly and being there with someone else.
Over time my feelings for him became stronger and stronger. It became hard for me to be around him, and I tried so hard to get rid of the crush. It felt like a pipe dream, something that would never happen.
In the weeks before we got together I was spending more and more time with your dad and realized I could no longer stop myself from flirting with him. We spent an entire day working in Red Deer together, most of it in a men’s bathroom doing installations, and it pained me not to be with him.
I wanted to grab him and kiss him. When we got back into Calgary I stayed at the office until almost 9pm, hoping he would invite me to go for a bite to eat. I just wanted to be around him.
He ended up leaving to go home, and I stayed behind to figure out what I was going to do. I felt so guilty. I couldn’t go home to look my partner in the eyes, feeling the way that I did about your dad.
I was so afraid to go home because I knew what I had to do. I sat in my bedroom crying because I knew how much pain I was about to inflict on someone I had once loved. That night I ended it, for once and for all.
My partner asked me if there was someone else and I said no, after all, nothing was going on between your dad and I. However, eventually I confessed after much prodding, that I had feelings for someone else. My partner immediately guessed that it was your dad. I guess in hindsight it had been obvious that there had been something there.
I had just torn another person's heart in two, but I knew I had done the right thing. I still had no idea that anything would ever happen with your dad and I. I hadn’t ended my relationship to be with him, I had ended it to be authentic and to do the right thing.
Six days later, I saw my psychologist and talked about your dad and my feelings for him non-stop. By the end of my session I had decided that I would go back to the office and say something to your dad to bring the torrid affair we had been having in my mind into the realm of reality.
When I got into my car I saw that there was a voice mail from your dad, I called him back terrified, and he asked if I was coming back to the office. Little did he know I was coming back to talk to him. When I asked him why he was wondering, he said that he needed to talk to me.
I was terrified that he had caught onto my crush and that because he was such a decent guy he wanted to address it in person and let me down easily. I was literally hyperventilating the whole way back to the office, and when I got to my desk I felt like throwing up. Moments later I heard him walking down the hall, and then he came into my office and shut the door. He looked terrified, and said “I’ve been thinking about this all day and I’m going to do this before I lose my courage”, and then he said “I was wondering if I could take you out sometime”. I immediately wanted to jump up and down and celebrate and then kiss him, but instead with a huge grin on my face I managed to say “I’d like that”.
Just writing about it makes me smile. Your dad and I went on our first date 3 days later, and I knew on our first date that he was the one for me.
On our second date I point blank asked him if he was willing to have more children, as you were already a dream of mine. He looked a little stunned, but answered honestly and said that he was open to it.
Your dad and I were inseparable from then on. We had our first 3 dates in 3 days, and went away to Banff together the next weekend.
In Banff your dad was tickling my back and I felt him spell something, I was certain that he had just written "I love you" with his fingers, but I didn't say anything. I already knew he loved me, I had seen it in his eyes.
A couple of weeks later he told me he loved me when we were laying in bed that night. My answer "I know", and I of course told him that I loved him too.
Your dad and I both knew right away, and talked about getting married. We decided to start trying to get pregnant right away, as I had seem my doctor and was advised that due to a health condition, we most likely would not conceive naturally. So here we are, lovingly trying to create you, and having a lot of fun in the process.
I cannot wait until you are here and to when I can one day tell you this story and explain to you just how wanted and intentional your creation was.
I love you more than anything in the world, and you haven't even been created yet.
Wednesday, 4 September 2013
Tuesday, 27 August 2013
My new identity
When I was pregnant, I had initially planned to begin my maternity leave a month before my baby was due. I was extremely uncomfortable and had a lot of back pain when I was pregnant, not due to complications, but rather hard because I had decided to completely let go for the first time in my life. I ate anything and everything in sight, and was having a very difficult time carrying around 70 extra pounds of ice cream and cheeseburgers.
As my initially planned "last day" approached, I wasn't ready to stop working. So I put it off for another two weeks. Then once again when that day approached, I decided to work for one more week. In the end, my water broke while I was working, albeit from home, and I continued to work for another 3 hours.
I had been working on a few deals that I wanted to see through completion, however that wasn't the reason that I worked for so long. I worked for so long, because without my work, I didn't know who I was. My work and my success at work was my identity. It was something I was very proud of, and I enjoyed the status and lifestyle that my career afforded me.
I remember thinking about how much I would miss work once the baby was here, and trying to devise ways to continue working on a part time basis. I was worried about my clients, knowing full well that my colleague who would be working with them would not take care of them in the way that I had done.
As soon as I laid eyes on that little red and wrinkled face, I forgot all about my work and my clients. The first night after he was born, I stayed awake all night long, just looking at him in amazement, terrified that if I fell asleep even for a moment, that someone might take him from me. My clients were the last thing on my mind.
It is funny, being a mother is not something that I ever expected to be. Yet it is the role that I have most easily and naturally assumed. My days are now spent with the most amazing little boy, and I constantly find myself grinning from ear to ear and overflowing with love for this little man.
The things that used to matter are no more. Designer bags, french manicures, weekly massages, daily dinners out and all of the other trappings of my former life mean absolutely nothing to me. I would give up every material thing I own and will ever own for my son. He is my entire world.
I used to wonder if I had a purpose in this world, and now I know exactly what that purpose is, to be his mom.
Looking back, my career wasn't nearly as thrilling and fantastic as I thought, nothing compares to motherhood.
I no longer shower daily, some weeks I only shower twice, or if we are being completely honest there have been weeks where I only showered once. I rarely get a chance to wear makeup, and even more uncommon is being able to style, or rather even just blowdry my hair. If you knew me before my little man, you would know how vain I could be and what a departure this is.
I now live in size 32 jeans, with my 28's stored in the basement in the perhaps futile hope that they may one day fit again. I wear frumpy nursing bras and I have a muffin top that hangs over my jeans. My belly is no longer firm, and jiggles and is painted with purple stretch marks. Oddly enough I feel more beautiful than I ever have, those stretch marks came from my little man. I actually smile when I look at them, remembering when he was safe inside of me and would wake me up doing what felt like jumping jacks in the middle of the night.
Some days I become envious of other moms, and I wish that we were independently wealthy, that I could stay home with my son forever and not ever have to worry about finances. However, we are not. In fact, we struggle. With my income gone, my husband's pay cut, and hefty child support payments for my husband's other 3 children, we live on less than I ever knew possible. Oddly enough, I am happier than I ever thought possible.
Who would have ever thought that 7 pounds and 7 ounces was the difference between a life of pomp and circumstance and a life of meaning.
As my initially planned "last day" approached, I wasn't ready to stop working. So I put it off for another two weeks. Then once again when that day approached, I decided to work for one more week. In the end, my water broke while I was working, albeit from home, and I continued to work for another 3 hours.
I had been working on a few deals that I wanted to see through completion, however that wasn't the reason that I worked for so long. I worked for so long, because without my work, I didn't know who I was. My work and my success at work was my identity. It was something I was very proud of, and I enjoyed the status and lifestyle that my career afforded me.
I remember thinking about how much I would miss work once the baby was here, and trying to devise ways to continue working on a part time basis. I was worried about my clients, knowing full well that my colleague who would be working with them would not take care of them in the way that I had done.
As soon as I laid eyes on that little red and wrinkled face, I forgot all about my work and my clients. The first night after he was born, I stayed awake all night long, just looking at him in amazement, terrified that if I fell asleep even for a moment, that someone might take him from me. My clients were the last thing on my mind.
It is funny, being a mother is not something that I ever expected to be. Yet it is the role that I have most easily and naturally assumed. My days are now spent with the most amazing little boy, and I constantly find myself grinning from ear to ear and overflowing with love for this little man.
The things that used to matter are no more. Designer bags, french manicures, weekly massages, daily dinners out and all of the other trappings of my former life mean absolutely nothing to me. I would give up every material thing I own and will ever own for my son. He is my entire world.
I used to wonder if I had a purpose in this world, and now I know exactly what that purpose is, to be his mom.
Looking back, my career wasn't nearly as thrilling and fantastic as I thought, nothing compares to motherhood.
I no longer shower daily, some weeks I only shower twice, or if we are being completely honest there have been weeks where I only showered once. I rarely get a chance to wear makeup, and even more uncommon is being able to style, or rather even just blowdry my hair. If you knew me before my little man, you would know how vain I could be and what a departure this is.
I now live in size 32 jeans, with my 28's stored in the basement in the perhaps futile hope that they may one day fit again. I wear frumpy nursing bras and I have a muffin top that hangs over my jeans. My belly is no longer firm, and jiggles and is painted with purple stretch marks. Oddly enough I feel more beautiful than I ever have, those stretch marks came from my little man. I actually smile when I look at them, remembering when he was safe inside of me and would wake me up doing what felt like jumping jacks in the middle of the night.
Some days I become envious of other moms, and I wish that we were independently wealthy, that I could stay home with my son forever and not ever have to worry about finances. However, we are not. In fact, we struggle. With my income gone, my husband's pay cut, and hefty child support payments for my husband's other 3 children, we live on less than I ever knew possible. Oddly enough, I am happier than I ever thought possible.
Who would have ever thought that 7 pounds and 7 ounces was the difference between a life of pomp and circumstance and a life of meaning.
Monday, 26 August 2013
Camping is enjoyed by a disproportionate number of idiots, I'm just saying.
The BEST job that I have ever had, was working at a campground in the summers when I was in University. I could wear whatever I wanted, customer abuse was not only tolerated, but encouraged, and I got paid a pretty decent wage to do very little. The BEST part of this job was all of the interesting people that I got to meet from all over the world. I have compiled a list of FAQ's that I commonly encountered, I hope you enjoy!
Q: Is that in American dollars?
A: I'm not sure, let me check my GPS and see what country we are currently in... hmmm.... just as I suspected, we are in Canada, in that case you will need to go to the airport and change all of your money into Yen, your campsite will cost 375,000 Yen.
Q: How do I get there?
A: Well if you can tell me where you are coming from I can give you directions
Caller: We are at McDonalds
Me: Which one?
Caller: There is a video store across the street
Me: Congratulations you have found THE elusive Calgary McDonalds, however sir, I still have no idea where the hell you are coming from
Me: Calgary West Campground, Rachel speaking...
Caller: Is this the Calgary West Campground?
Me: No sir, this is Pizza Hut, we just like to confuse our callers
Q: What kind of facilities do you have for swimming?
A: A private ocean, a lake, a jacuzzi on each individual campsite, and oh yes, A POOL!
Q: Do you have cable TV?
A: No
Q: What kind of campground is this?
A: An awesome one...
Q: Are your prices in dollars or in Canadian money?
A: They are in Canadian dollars
Q: Oh you guys call your money dollars too?
A: Yes genius, that's correct
Q: Can I make a reservation?
A: Most likely, if you tell me what day
Caller: We don't know what day
Q: Can you please give me someone's campsite number?
A: Yes, what is their name? and when are they set to arrive?
Caller: I don't know, they are from Medicine Hat
Q: Can you give me directions to get to your campground from Nose Hill Drive
A: Certainly, are you heading North or South?
Q: I don't know, I'm not from here
A: Turn left to head west
Q: I don't know, I'm from Manitoba
Q: Excuse me ma'am I can't find the soy cream in your store?
A: That's because we don't sell that hippy shit here
Q: Why wouldn't you sell a staple such as soy cream?
A: Because you are the only person in the Universe who would buy it, and we don't like you...
Q: Are you out of bread?
A: Yes
Q: Where can I find the bread?
A: At a grocery store asshole
Q: Can I make a reservation for Stampede?
A: No, I'm sorry you cannot as all of our reservations are full, however we have left a number of sites to be sold on a first come first serve basis
Q: Can I reserve one of those sites?
Q: Can I make a reservation for Stampede?
A: No, I'm sorry you cannot as all of our reservations are full, however we have left a number of sites to be sold on a first come first serve basis
Caller: But we are from Quebec...
Me: I don't care...
Q: Do you have 50 AMP power?
A: No our highest is 30 AMP
Q: But how am I supposed to run my washer, dryer, microwave, TV and massage chair?
A: You're not... you are CAMPING!
Caller: My name is Dave from Yellowknife... (followed by awkward pause)
Me: Hi Dave how can I help you?
Caller: Yeah... ummm... I'm just calling to let you know we are having some trouble with our RV (awkward chuckles)... blah, blah, blah, explains all of the minor details
Me: Okay so why are you calling?
Caller: Well I just wanted to let you know that we won't be here this afternoon
Me: Did you have a reservation
Caller: No... we just called earlier and inquired about a site, we didn't give our name or anything, but the lady said she'd have a site for us when we arrived, so just wanted to let you know we won't be there in case you were expecting us
Me:............... (overly enthusiastic) AWESOME! Thanks Dave!
Me: _____ Rachel speaking...
Caller: Do you speak French or English?
Me: Hola! como esta usted?
Caller: Which way is it to Baniff?
Me: Head West on Highway 1
Caller: How will we know when we are in the mountains?
Me: awkward silence.... you will hear waves crashing...
Caller: So how do we find you?
Me: Where are you coming from?
Caller: Do we head East or West?
Me: Again that depends on where you are coming from...
Caller: North
Me: Okay well I am going to go ahead and cancel your reservation...
Q: Is that in American dollars?
A: I'm not sure, let me check my GPS and see what country we are currently in... hmmm.... just as I suspected, we are in Canada, in that case you will need to go to the airport and change all of your money into Yen, your campsite will cost 375,000 Yen.
Q: How do I get there?
A: Well if you can tell me where you are coming from I can give you directions
Caller: We are at McDonalds
Me: Which one?
Caller: There is a video store across the street
Me: Congratulations you have found THE elusive Calgary McDonalds, however sir, I still have no idea where the hell you are coming from
Me: Calgary West Campground, Rachel speaking...
Caller: Is this the Calgary West Campground?
Me: No sir, this is Pizza Hut, we just like to confuse our callers
Q: What kind of facilities do you have for swimming?
A: A private ocean, a lake, a jacuzzi on each individual campsite, and oh yes, A POOL!
Q: Do you have cable TV?
A: No
Q: What kind of campground is this?
A: An awesome one...
Q: Are your prices in dollars or in Canadian money?
A: They are in Canadian dollars
Q: Oh you guys call your money dollars too?
A: Yes genius, that's correct
Q: Can I make a reservation?
A: Most likely, if you tell me what day
Caller: We don't know what day
Q: Can you please give me someone's campsite number?
A: Yes, what is their name? and when are they set to arrive?
Caller: I don't know, they are from Medicine Hat
Q: Can you give me directions to get to your campground from Nose Hill Drive
A: Certainly, are you heading North or South?
Q: I don't know, I'm not from here
A: Turn left to head west
Q: I don't know, I'm from Manitoba
Q: Excuse me ma'am I can't find the soy cream in your store?
A: That's because we don't sell that hippy shit here
Q: Why wouldn't you sell a staple such as soy cream?
A: Because you are the only person in the Universe who would buy it, and we don't like you...
Q: Are you out of bread?
A: Yes
Q: Where can I find the bread?
A: At a grocery store asshole
Q: Can I make a reservation for Stampede?
A: No, I'm sorry you cannot as all of our reservations are full, however we have left a number of sites to be sold on a first come first serve basis
Q: Can I reserve one of those sites?
Q: Can I make a reservation for Stampede?
A: No, I'm sorry you cannot as all of our reservations are full, however we have left a number of sites to be sold on a first come first serve basis
Caller: But we are from Quebec...
Me: I don't care...
Q: Do you have 50 AMP power?
A: No our highest is 30 AMP
Q: But how am I supposed to run my washer, dryer, microwave, TV and massage chair?
A: You're not... you are CAMPING!
Caller: My name is Dave from Yellowknife... (followed by awkward pause)
Me: Hi Dave how can I help you?
Caller: Yeah... ummm... I'm just calling to let you know we are having some trouble with our RV (awkward chuckles)... blah, blah, blah, explains all of the minor details
Me: Okay so why are you calling?
Caller: Well I just wanted to let you know that we won't be here this afternoon
Me: Did you have a reservation
Caller: No... we just called earlier and inquired about a site, we didn't give our name or anything, but the lady said she'd have a site for us when we arrived, so just wanted to let you know we won't be there in case you were expecting us
Me:............... (overly enthusiastic) AWESOME! Thanks Dave!
Me: _____ Rachel speaking...
Caller: Do you speak French or English?
Me: Hola! como esta usted?
Caller: Which way is it to Baniff?
Me: Head West on Highway 1
Caller: How will we know when we are in the mountains?
Me: awkward silence.... you will hear waves crashing...
Caller: So how do we find you?
Me: Where are you coming from?
Caller: Do we head East or West?
Me: Again that depends on where you are coming from...
Caller: North
Me: Okay well I am going to go ahead and cancel your reservation...
Sunday, 25 August 2013
The inception of "Not Going Back to Work"
"Not Going Back to Work" has been born of the love I have for my son, and my obsession with finding a way to make "Not Going Back to Work" not only a possibility, but my reality.
To give you the back story, before my son, I was the #1 Sales Executive in a publicly traded company. I made well over six figures, won trips and accolades, and was living the dream. Not bad for a woman under 30, who didn't finish University and who generally worked less than 40 hours per week.
People often assumed that I worked very hard and for very long hours, and I sure as hell was not going to correct them. The fact of the matter was however, that I worked smart. Early on I found my niche in my industry, and I set to work on creating a name for myself, as the very best in my field. Instead of spending countless hours prospecting, I spent countless hours working with the clients that I did have. The credibility I built in doing so, and the resulting referrals were much more fruitful than the pointless knocking on doors that I was encouraged and often even threatened to do.
In Sales you will often hear people talk about the 80/20 rule. Spend 80% of your time with the 20% of your accounts that will generate 80% of your volume. This rule however is intrinsically flawed. I deducted that if 80% of my sales volume was coming from 20% of my accounts, why bother with the other 80% of my accounts? It was often the other 80% that proved the most time consuming, and which would eat up countless hours of my time only to decide in the end that my product just wasn't for them. They would only come to this conclusion however after taking full advantage of my consulting services.
The way I achieved my success was by ignoring the other 80% of my accounts that only accounted for 20% of my volume. Not to say that they were not worthy of service, but rather, I was happy to allow my competitors to service them. Instead I spent ALL of my time with the 20% of my accounts that typically would have made up 80% of my volume, and instead built them up to constitute my entire sales volume. Hence the shorter work weeks and higher income than my counterparts.
My life today is a very broad departure from that before my son. Breastfeeding, changing diapers, and playing with the little man who stole my heart, and constantly brainstorming ways in which to stay home with him forever, or at least avoid putting him in daycare.
I have postulated opening a day home, however this was quickly squashed when I remembered that I don't really like kids. I LOVE my own child infinitely more than anything in this world, however I can do without other people's kids.
Now I know you are likely wondering why I don't just go back to my job. Well it was a fairly easy decision. After said publicly traded company decided not to pay me for the most momentous deal of my career due to it's implementation being after my son was born, I am now embroiled in a legal battle and something about suing my employer just makes me a little uneasy about returning to them.
I could certainly start with another company in the corporate world, however any positions I would be offered, would most certainly involve a great deal of overnight travel, something that I am no longer willing to do.
Hence, I have arrived at "Not Going Back to Work", and have decided to chronicle this journey.
At the moment I am looking into becoming a consultant for three different direct sales companies. I am in the discovery phase and am deliberating between them. At the current moment I am considering starting up businesses with two of them, that sell completely unrelated products.
The method to my madness in blogging about this journey is to give other moms an honest look at my journey, and to perhaps inspire some other moms to follow their own dreams.
Now before anyone thinks that my dream is to become a direct seller, it is not. My dream is to be around for my son, to take him to and from school and to be able to pick him up for lunch. At the same time, I dream of showing him the world, as so much more can be learned through the living than through the sometimes comatose existence in the classroom. So in order to be there, and still have the financial means to provide exceptional experiences, I have determined that direct selling will be the method to my madness.
To give you the back story, before my son, I was the #1 Sales Executive in a publicly traded company. I made well over six figures, won trips and accolades, and was living the dream. Not bad for a woman under 30, who didn't finish University and who generally worked less than 40 hours per week.
People often assumed that I worked very hard and for very long hours, and I sure as hell was not going to correct them. The fact of the matter was however, that I worked smart. Early on I found my niche in my industry, and I set to work on creating a name for myself, as the very best in my field. Instead of spending countless hours prospecting, I spent countless hours working with the clients that I did have. The credibility I built in doing so, and the resulting referrals were much more fruitful than the pointless knocking on doors that I was encouraged and often even threatened to do.
In Sales you will often hear people talk about the 80/20 rule. Spend 80% of your time with the 20% of your accounts that will generate 80% of your volume. This rule however is intrinsically flawed. I deducted that if 80% of my sales volume was coming from 20% of my accounts, why bother with the other 80% of my accounts? It was often the other 80% that proved the most time consuming, and which would eat up countless hours of my time only to decide in the end that my product just wasn't for them. They would only come to this conclusion however after taking full advantage of my consulting services.
The way I achieved my success was by ignoring the other 80% of my accounts that only accounted for 20% of my volume. Not to say that they were not worthy of service, but rather, I was happy to allow my competitors to service them. Instead I spent ALL of my time with the 20% of my accounts that typically would have made up 80% of my volume, and instead built them up to constitute my entire sales volume. Hence the shorter work weeks and higher income than my counterparts.
My life today is a very broad departure from that before my son. Breastfeeding, changing diapers, and playing with the little man who stole my heart, and constantly brainstorming ways in which to stay home with him forever, or at least avoid putting him in daycare.
I have postulated opening a day home, however this was quickly squashed when I remembered that I don't really like kids. I LOVE my own child infinitely more than anything in this world, however I can do without other people's kids.
Now I know you are likely wondering why I don't just go back to my job. Well it was a fairly easy decision. After said publicly traded company decided not to pay me for the most momentous deal of my career due to it's implementation being after my son was born, I am now embroiled in a legal battle and something about suing my employer just makes me a little uneasy about returning to them.
I could certainly start with another company in the corporate world, however any positions I would be offered, would most certainly involve a great deal of overnight travel, something that I am no longer willing to do.
Hence, I have arrived at "Not Going Back to Work", and have decided to chronicle this journey.
At the moment I am looking into becoming a consultant for three different direct sales companies. I am in the discovery phase and am deliberating between them. At the current moment I am considering starting up businesses with two of them, that sell completely unrelated products.
The method to my madness in blogging about this journey is to give other moms an honest look at my journey, and to perhaps inspire some other moms to follow their own dreams.
Now before anyone thinks that my dream is to become a direct seller, it is not. My dream is to be around for my son, to take him to and from school and to be able to pick him up for lunch. At the same time, I dream of showing him the world, as so much more can be learned through the living than through the sometimes comatose existence in the classroom. So in order to be there, and still have the financial means to provide exceptional experiences, I have determined that direct selling will be the method to my madness.
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