I'm Lindsay Ferrier, a Nashville writer with a passion for family travel, exploring Tennessee, and raising kids without losing my mind in the process. This is where I share my discoveries, along with occasional deep thoughts, pop culture tangents and a sprinkling of snark. Want to get in touch? Use the CONTACT form at the top of the page.
June 20, 2008
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Things are changing around here.
If all goes according to plan, by next month, I’ll be making the same amount per year that I made as a news reporter. And I’ll still be staying at home with the kids. And I’ll owe all of the money I make either directly or indirectly to blogging. Can you believe it? I still can’t.
I feel kind of guilty telling you this, like I’m bragging. But the fact is that I tell you guys pretty much everything. And this milestone is a big deal for me. It’s something I did pretty much all by myself and well, I’m proud of me. I’m proud of me for reaching a lifelong goal I’ve had, of doing something for a living that I would totally do for free. And I feel like I’m fulfilling a phrase I repeated often to myself when I first became a stay-at-home mom- I’ve bloomed where I was planted. I’ve made the best of what could have been a very boring and lonely situation.
Now, warm fuzziness aside, let’s get to the real meat of this post. The reason I’ll be making more money is that I’ve taken on a few new projects, which will be revealed in the weeks and months to come. They are awesome and exciting, and they are a lot of work. I can handle everything, but it’s like I have three major jobs right now- nanny, writer, and maid. Each day brings with it a long list of things that must be done and I’m on my feet pretty much from the moment I get up until I go to bed at night. And that’s why I’m having a harder time than usual adjusting to the notion of “summer vacation” for the teens.
The girls are spending most of each day doing what teenagers do best- lying around, watching TV, playing on the computer, and eating. And well, it’s sort of driving me freaking crazy. It’s just hard for me to watch them waste copious amounts of time when they could at least be reading great literature or writing or painting or, you know, looking for a job. Obviously, I’m jealous. I would give anything to have even three days completely to myself to do whatever the hell I wanted. Also, I think it’s hard for me to have two nearly grown girls in the house who don’t do much of anything to help out unless we’re paying them for it.
Yes, that’s how we roll around here, unfortunately. They clean their rooms and babysit and we pay dearly for their services. Hubs reasons that they end up buying things with their money that we would buy for them anyway, like clothes and makeup, and he has a point, but in retrospect I do wish we had established some “family work” that they do just because they’re, you know, part of the Ferrier team. I’ve also suggested that Hubs pay me five to ten dollars an hour for my housekeeping and childcare, just like he pays the girls. Yeah. That didn’t go over so well.
After several years of being a stepmother, I’ve found that it’s better not to worry too much about matters like this. If our decisions really are wrong, things tend to fall apart accordingly (like leaving my oldest stepdaughter to fend for herself academically, for example). In this case, I read somewhere that it’s wise to tie children’s allowances to good behavior rather than chores, because paying them for chores gives them the false notion that “family work” deserves payment, when really, they’ll never be paid for it again. Hubs agrees with this idea, and it’s how we’ll raise the younger ones. It’s too late, though, to start all over on this with the older girls. It wouldn’t be fair.
I’m all over the place on this post, aren’t I? See, that’s what I love about this blog- the freedom to ramble, and you guys keep right on reading, because you’re loyal like that. If I were drunk, I’d probably start crying right now.
Okay, so to sum things up… Me: Working hard. Teens: Hardly working. Pretty much the situation in millions of houses across America.
This post originally appeared on Parents.com.
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