1. I like my husband again. This is not to say I did not like him before, but in hindsight I think it’s safe to say our relationship was reeeeally strained for a while. I realize now that I was a huge ball of stress trying to juggle work, home, motherhood, pregnancy, a remodel…and he was often my punching bag.

Not to mention now that I’m not racing either out the door in the morning, or to do work every night after putting the kids to bed, there are more pockets of time – albeit short ones – when he and I can catch up and connect. As long as there is not something on TV that I want to watch. Holy conflict of interest.

2. Less road rage. This one just dawned on me the other day as I was driving my daughter to school, weaving in and around endless construction detours. We were having fun naming the various bulldozers and dump trucks, playing “I Spy a Pothole,” observing the progress being made as they repair the neighborhood street… when I realized that Old Me would have had a MOTHER-EFFING HEART ATTACK if I was trying to maneuver these delays on my way to daycare and then work.

Yet here I was – staring so long at a construction worker as he jackhammered that I missed the light! Silly me. Now I would have to wait another 3 minutes until it turned again. Guess I will just keep on watching him jackhammer with those tanned muscular arms…glistening sweaty brow…aaaand, a pony tail. Moving on.

3. More daddy/daughter time. I knew I would spend more time with my kids by staying home, but it didn’t occur to me that my husband would too – at least with our oldest daughter. But now that he no longer has to deal with making dinner as soon he gets home, he can just jump right into playtime with her. Which she LOVES.

This has actually been one of my favorite developments. My daughter has always been a bit of a mommy’s girl. To the point that my husband felt a bit isolated at times – because she would literally push him away or only want me. But now she anxiously awaits his return from work, welcomes him with huge hugs, and likes it when he puts her to bed. Everybody wins.

4. I’m a better friend. You know those people who always remember your birthday, who bring you dinner when you’re sick, who check in when they haven’t heard from you in a while? I am not one of those people. I don’t even remember my own anniversary, let alone other people’s milestones. And Old Me felt so overwhelmed by the demands of work and family that I put almost zero energy into friendships.

But since I’ve been home I’ve reconnected with old friends, had lunch with former coworkers – hell, I not only made a meatloaf for friends who were moving, but yesterday I brought a homemade apple crisp to a friend who hosted a playdate. Who am I?!? It’s been fun and fulfilling to have a bit more friendship in my life outside the context of work.

5. Better return on our restaurant investments. It was a no brainer that we would eat at home more often, but having limited disposable income has made us much choosier about where and when we eat out.

This one really registered yesterday when my daughter was sorting her toys and she had a pile she called, “My McDonald’s toys.” We hit the drive-thru one too many times last fall. At one point I think 50-70% of our meals were at restaurants or take-out.

But now, if I’m going to spend money eating out, I’ll be damned if I’m going to spend it on fast food crap. Or even on a meal that is just ok. It feels like such a waste to squander those precious dollars on food that is not substantially better than what I can make at home. Last weekend when debating where to *splurge* on a restaurant lunch, I made sure we went to the best damn gyro shop in town. And it was so worth it.

The remains of one too many Fat & Happy Meals. And a very creepy kitty.

I realize these are not benefits I could only reap by staying home vs. working. Staying home has simply allowed me to pause for a minute and focus on a few other things that matter to me. If/when I return to work, hopefully I won’t lose sight of them again.

Oh, and one more –

6. The Olympics! I admit I was excited when I realized the Olympics would be on this summer while I’m home. Now I can waste time watching the sports they only broadcast during the day like archery (sure to be riddled with Hunger Games references), fencing and horse wrestling. Can’t wait.

I think the lows of this week are best summarized by the following two conversations with my husband.

H: “You know that zucchini you bought?”

Me: “Yes?”

H: “It was a cucumber.”

Me: “Oh.”

H: “And it was rotten.”

*****

Me: (Multiple times over the past 3 months, sweating profusely) “I hate this stroller. It’s so effing hard to turn.”

H: (Two days ago) “Did you know the front brakes are on?”

******

So, yeah.

On the upside, my husband overcooked pork chops when we had a friend over for dinner on Sunday. Very unlike him. This was not my ‘high’ – that would just be mean – but it further boosted my confidence when I then made pork chops two days later that were quite good.

Please overlook the fact that my food photos always look disgusting due to both my poor presentation/cooking skills, and poor photography. Some day I will learn how to properly use my camera in bad lighting.

Regardless, even the hubs agreed those chops were well done – and well seasoned with a yummy sauce! And not that it’s a competition…BUT if it was…well, I would’ve won on pork this week. Booyah. Hit.

Also a bonus – that was the first time I used the cast iron skillet since we got it for our wedding 6 years ago. I admit I have had no freaking clue what that thing was for.

I also made a decent lemon chicken piccata this week, despite nearly losing all of the sauce when I left it boiling too long. I wish recipes would be more specific and tell me exactly which number on the stovetop dial I should use vs. terms like “simmer.” I rarely get it right. I turned my back for two minutes and suddenly there was nothing left in the sauce pan but crispy lemons. SON OF A.

I managed to salvage it by dumping in more broth and redoing a few steps, but I’m sure we ingested the equivalent of at least one cigarette since I didn’t scrape out the burnt scraps first. Still a hit. Here are some of the remnants in the shower.

But the high that pleased me the most this week was the discovery of a sock I’ve been missing for months. I have 3 favorite pairs of socks. This is one of them.

Needless to say with such a low inventory of quality socks, it makes a dent went one goes missing. I assumed my sister took it home when she borrowed them at Christmas, because I like to blame her for things unfairly. But alas – it was tucked inside a pair of pants.

Paul and I are thrilled at this reunion.

I spend countless hours nursing and rocking my daughter in her room, staring at this:

To the point that I have now become obsessed with this:

No, closer – this:

Who said this unattributed quote?!? She could be entitled to thousands, no millions, of dollars in royalties from sales of these wipes!

I loathe/love random quotation mark use. This sign I saw on a recent trip was one of my favorites.

“Don’t Even” get me started on improper use of air quotes. It’s an epidemic.

Right before I went on maternity leave we remodeled our basement and bathrooms. Near the end we ran out of money, and were unable to finish some things.

At the time we had no idea that I would not return to work, so we thought we’d just pick it back up and complete everything once I started getting paid again. Whoops.

Now it seems we may never have the cash flow to fully finish what we started, so our house just looks like the contractor forgot to return one day.

For instance – we haven’t yet purchased trim for our recessed can lights. Wouldn’t be so bad if there were only 5 or 10. BUT WE HAVE 38.

The best part is that occasionally drywall dust will leak out of them when someone walks upstairs, leaving a nice little clump of crud on the couch, carpet… When I put the baby on the floor downstairs I strategically place her between lights so nothing falls in her eyes. Such a good mommy.

We also plumbed for a kitchenette in the basement, but ran out of money before we could install cabinets. So we have these very child-friendly pipes sticking out of the wall.

I’m trying to think of a creative way to hide them before the baby starts crawling. Covering them with tennis balls was my mother’s suggestion. Surely I can think of something a tad classier than that?

There’s also an awesome hole in the wall where a microwave was supposed to go. This is my weak attempt to cover it with a bookshelf.

But I’m going to have to start collecting knick-knacks to fill in the gaps. Maybe I can find my Precious Moments collectibles from the 8th grade.

However the most ironic part is that we opted to remodel the bathrooms instead of the kitchen. But now that I quit my job, I spend maybe 6 minutes/week showering and grooming myself, yet I spend about 16 EFF-ING HOURS A DAY in the kitchen. I hate the kitchen!!

It’s got a bad layout, little cupboard space, even less counter space, ugly linoleum floors, horrible flourescent lighting…and countertops the color of poop.

That brown backdrop is killing my otherwise beautiful cooking creations. Even my masterpiece – that amazing banana bread, have I mentioned it? – looks sad against the poo counters. Brown is just not appetizing.

So, I am going to start taking photos of my cooking creations in the bathrooms. Then I’ll at least feel like I’m getting more out of that investment.

Last week I made my daughter mac-n-cheese (box brand, not homemade). See how much more lovely it looks against the bathroom? I mean, what says ‘delicious’ more than seeing a toilet by your food?

Problem solved.

I had only one real cooking accomplishment this week, and I forgot to take a picture. I made stuffed peppers. They were good. Just under-seasoned. Because I am afraid of spices. To quote my husband, “It sounds like you know both the problem and the solution, soo…” I’ll work on it. But I’m still calling the peppers a Hit.

On the crafty side of life, my Pinterest collection finally paid off with the successful completion of two – TWO! – crafts that my daughter enjoyed.

We made toilet paper bunnies inspired by My Little Gems, and this spring flower that now I can’t find where it came from. To whomever thought of it – let it be known that I am not taking credit.

Nevermind that it’s not Easter anymore, and that our bunnies had far fewer stylish accessories than the example. She still liked it. Hit!

In our ongoing quest to save money, the coffee in the photo above is from another purchase of a huge, cheap tin. I tried to suck every penny out of that container by turning it into a craft project. But all I could think of was a bucket for beads, so I made this shoddy skirt and my daugher decorated it with gems.

Yes, it says “Beads and stuff like that” on it. That was my daughter’s request, but I think it’s fitting for the quality of the project. Not my best. Meh. Miss.

She pulled her Legos out of the bowels of the basement this week and got into them again. Of course my husband kicked my ass in this category. He built this:

I built this:

But wait, you can turn it this way too:

I don’t like playing with Legos. There, I said it. He will always win on this one. Miss. Game Over.

Yesterday we went to a birthday party which had a very clear mandate – do not bring a gift, instead bring a paper airplane for a flight party. Love it!

One of my biggest pet peeves is when an invite for a kid’s birthday party is intentionally vague as to whether or not you are supposed to bring a gift. I got one that said, “Gifts not expected.”

Seriously?! What does that really MEAN? Because for an over-analyzer like myself, it could mean any number of things:

• “Gifts not expected…BUT appreciated.”
• “Gifts not expected…IF you are poor and/or low class.”
• “Gifts not expected…UNLESS you are a grandparent or relative.”

Perhaps I am overly sensitive to this because our daycare is Seattle-style crunchy and the parties for my daughter’s school friends are always clearly labeled as no-gift affairs. “No gifts, please.” Straightforward and clear. It leaves no room for doubt.

Part of the reason I get anxious about it is because some parents genuinely don’t want their kids to get a flood of toys, which I can respect. It does seem a little over the top to shower gifts on a 1 or 2 year-old who will play with them for 30 seconds before returning to tupperware and spoons.

But that is not even the primary point I take issue with. If you want your kid to get gifts, that’s cool – just don’t be coy about it, so I am not the only ass who shows up without one. Because that has happened to me more than once.

*****

Of course while I loved the airplane idea, I forgot about it until I was on my way to pick up my kid from school for the party. Realizing we had not yet decorated her plane (made of course, by Mr. Mom), I quickly grabbed some of her stickers and craft scraps to put on it.

Is it just me, or does Tinkerbell look like a stripper?

I think it’s the bare shoulders. She should stay away from headshots.

I felt a bit sheepish decorating my kid’s plane – like I was doing her homework for her. I kept it simple so it wouldn’t look like I did it. Because you know, my crafting skillz are otherwise off the hook.

Then I got to the party and discovered all of the dads not only making their kids’ planes, but insisting that they – not their kids – be the ones to fly them in a distance competition. One had even weighted his plane with a rock to make it go further.

Lesson of the day – it’s never too early to start helping your child succeed by cheating.

Since officially announcing that I quit, aka I posted it on Facebook, I have received a flood of supportive comments and emails from friends and acquaintances – most fellow mothers – congratulating me. Many of them work full-time, some part-time, and some stay at home – but regardless they have been universally supportive.

I don’t cry that often – just during the family-visit episode of Survivor, and sometimes when the wrong person gets voted off American Idol – but all of these nice responses have sent me into a few bouts of tears. Perhaps because I’ve been a little emotional about it anyway.

Mostly it has made me so appreciative of fellow mothers, and the battles they wage on a daily basis trying to juggle it all. No one way is the right way, and I’m always fascinated, and often in awe, to hear how different women structure their work and home lives to make it work for them.

No doubt I will have moments where I miss my job. But I’m excited to see what this next chapter has in store for me and my family.

I was also considering a ceremonial burning of the only business suit I own, but that might be a tad premature.

Today I returned to the office one last time to clean out my desk and turn in my work computer, phone, etc. I guess the deal is sealed and I just traded this:

For this:

I think I’ve been harboring some anxiety and sadness about it over the past week. I know this is a good decision, but part of me is totally freaked out by the fact that I just up and quit a job that was pretty damn good – I loved my colleagues, I had a supportive boss that I liked and respected, I had established some seniority after 13 years, there was still plenty of opportunity for growth, I was making pretty good money…SWEET GEEZUS WHAT HAVE I DONE.

Breathe.

The most nerve-racking part is that I don’t actually know if we can afford this. We did a rough budget analysis of our hypothetical single income status, and it told us we wouldn’t have enough money to cover our expenses. So we decided to do it anyway. Because we’re dumb like that.

We figured if we truly are not making ends meet after some of the initial cuts we made to our expenses, we can always cut more. Like find a cheaper preschool. Or God forbid – get rid of our cable TV.

I’ll start selling our furniture on ebay before I let the cable go. Especially when we are in the middle of a season of Game of Thrones AND Survivor, and on the verge of True Blood. Cancelling would be blasphemous.

It’s also hard to sever the social ties of a job. I worked with fun, smart people who made me laugh. What if I just turn into a hermit who forgets how to socialize with adults, preferring to instead make crafts and sing the Caillou theme song. Kill me now.

But then I look at these two jokers, and I know without a doubt that I made the right choice.

But just in case no one will hire me back into the workforce in 5 years, I’ll start buying lottery tickets. Because that is a very wise financial investment strategy.

The past week has been a roller coaster of domestic hits and misses. My high point was a turkey tortilla soup that I made using leftovers and pantry items on a whim. NO PRE-MEAL PLANNING STRESS. Plus it was delicious.

I felt like a winner that day. And I learned the value of stocking the cupboards with some basic food stuffs like chicken stock and beans. Hit!

But it was downhill in the craft category. I couldn’t seem to find a project that would occupy my daughter for more than 5 minutes. At one point I had her cutting and pasting pictures out of the coupon circular.

It was almost painful to watch. A sad attempt at creativity, even for me (that said, I’m sure we’ll do it again someday). Miss.

Last night I made some mediterranean meatballs that were actually pretty tasty, despite their appearance on the pan. I even used fresh parsley from our “garden.” Suck it, IKEA meatballs. Hit!

However I struggled to find a purpose for the emaciated carrots that were also in the garden.

While typing this, I realize if I had had my wits about me, I could’ve killed both of the aforementioned birds with one stone and used the carrots for some sort of craft. D’oh. Double miss.

I finally succeeded in saving money at the grocery store using a combination of coupons and strategically purchased sale items that I had actually researched and planned in advance. Hit!

But in my quest to save I bought an enormous package of pork chops that my husband pointed out has some funky coloring on it. Gag. Lesson learned that meat labeled “Extreme Value Pack” probably warrants a close inspection. So gross.

I think I’m in an emotional and domestic rut. Tonight I’m having what I just realized is my first official cocktail out of the house since the baby. Hopefully the power of the drink will provide me with some much needed inspiration.

Today I attempted to clean out a closet I’ve been dreading for months. It’s where I’ve been sticking all of my random papers that need filing…without actually filing them. So they are jammed in a variety of bags, boxes, folders – in no particular order.

But I did not realize how many papers I have accumulated. Holy hell it’s going to take me forever to get through them. This is only half of it. I have another stash that I’m also ignoring.

Since I only had an hour today, I shoved them back in. I’ll try again tomorrow. Or the next day.

While I was in there I discovered the monstrous black box in the background of this photo.

It’s a bird, it’s a plane, it’s – my wedding album. It seriously weighs more than 20 pounds. WTF was I thinking when I picked that out. Not exactly coffee table material. Poor thing has been ostracized from society, hiding in the shadows, because of its size. It probably needs therapy. Yes, those are toys it’s dwarfing, but STILL – it’s stupidly huge.