When Remy got his job we were beyond thrilled, like ecstatic and with us staying here it left me lots of options. We were so geared up to move that when the news came we were staying the question was...what was I going to do? I currently have three options: go back to school, get a job, or keep staying at home. Honestly I feel so overwhelmed because each has such big pros and cons plus everyone seems to have an opinion except me, I have no idea what to do. So here I go writing it all down to see it helps.
Stay at home: I'm currently a stay-at-home wife and I love it. In a few years I probably won't remember how I kept myself busy I'm going to write down my loose schedule so I always remember how amazing it was and to answer the question that I keep getting "What do you do all day?"
Wake up with Remy and make him breakfast
Eat breakfast together
Exercise
Take a shower
Read scriptures
Work on personal progress
Work on a project (these change depending on the day I make our own cleaning products, laundry soap, liquid hand soap, my own rice flour, make bread, laundry, visiting teaching, young women's stuff etc.)
Have lunch
Make the bed, clean the floors, clean the bathroom, pick up the rest of the house
Get dinner started
Do dishes
Make Remy's lunch
return e-mail, make phone calls
Work on Remy's surprise for the day (which I've been able to keep doing :) )
Finish dinner and get it on the table
We don't have children, I'm not working so I love being able to do all of these things for us. It's been wonderful to say yes when people ask me for a favor or to help them out with something. I do really enjoy it and Remy always tells me how much he appreciates all of things I do. There are two cons so far, I don't get paid (boo!) and I get lonely being by myself for 10 hours without even a cat or fish to talk to.
Back to school: It would be a great time to do this. I would go back and do some upgrading courses which we currently qualify for them to be free, again we don't have kids so I would be able to go and then do homework with little to no interruptions. Cons: I only kind of have a long term goal of what I want to do. I have always wanted to be a wife and mother, honestly not much else. I went into the accounting program because it was going to be paid for and it's something I could do from home eventually not because I had a passion for it. I could easily have a career with the certificate that I have so if I don't know what I want to do differently why go back when I could be earning some money?
Although just last night I shared with Remy something that I am really passionate about and what (I think) I would love to do for a living. He is the only person I shared my idea with (after a few hours of him begging me to share) because I am so afraid that if I start telling people what I want to do I will get too many negative opinions about it and lose my enthusiasm. I'm really nervous about it because it will more than likely take about 5 years of schooling to complete. Remy is super supportive and told me to go for it and that we would figure it out. I also feel like I'm already 24 I will more than likely be 30 before I finish everything and what about us having children in the mix will that delay things and our current plan is for me to stay at home with the kids so would it all be worth the thousands of dollars? How much retraining would I need once I'm ready to go back into the workforce after kids?
Get a job: In the next few years Remy and I have things we would like to do (buy a car, house, go on a cruise, build up retirement, nest egg etc.) and they all cost money so in order to make those things happen faster the more money we make now the better. I could have a career not just a job.
Cons: We wouldn't enjoy the same life we have now i.e. I wouldn't make nearly as many things as I do now, I wouldn't be able to help people as much, Remy would have to help with chores more. We would no longer qualify for me to do free upgrading when I am ready which means we will need to save even more money for when I go back. I also think we will get used to the money and it will make it even more difficult to go back to school when the time comes or maybe I might just lose motivation.
I feel like every single time I think about these options I make a different decision although staying home, while I really enjoy it, isn't going to happen much longer. *sigh* I feel like so much depends on the this decision, like this is a crossroad in my life and what I choose now will decide what path my life takes. At the same time I also feel like in a few years from now I will look back and feel silly for worrying so much. I do feel so blessed that I even have this to worry about because so many people all over the world don't have all of these options available to them.
We will get it figured out soon, I have no doubt.
Saturday, June 30, 2012
Sunday, June 24, 2012
The Suitnoob Banker - Part I
In the autumn of 2004 I struck out on my own from Prince George and settled in the drippy city of Nanaimo. After a couple months I landed my first job, that as a technical support representative for Microsoft. It was a thankless job, and I worked it for nearly four years. There was laughter, frustration, learning, corporate poo-buttery,human silliness, tempermental computers and countless muted microphone rants. It inspired what many consider my most amusing story to date – careful, a little swearing – and I gained some valuable skills, chief among them patience and low-level computer upkeep. But all mediocre things must come to an end as they say in – oh heck, I just made that up. After nearly four years I got married, and a month later I was given the bronze handshake – laid off from NCO due “officially” to accessibility issues with new software.
For the last four years I’ve searched this squelchy port city for meaningful and long-term employment, with the desire to provide Chelsea and I with a comfortable life riding on my back like a lice-ridden monkey. Rejected from Shaw Communications twice, I sought less ambitious customer service employment opportunities for a long time. It was all I knew; all I felt qualified for. I dreamed of going a different direction, but I never honestly believed I’d have an opportunity to get out of such dead-end work.
In the last two years I’ve had the opportunity – however fleeting of working with some wonderful individuals. I’ve gained experience in documentary and feature writing, narration, promotion and even audio transcription. I’ve discovered a love for audio design and have created two audio theatre pieces , the Noire inspired A Contract of Souls, and the alternate world fantasy Dreamlight. And I’ve discovered that while I have very little aptitude for it, I actually do have a little bit of talent in playing the piano and keyboard. But none of these experiences could have prepared me for the direction my professional life would take me. I said not long ago that no matter what happens this year, life wouldn’t be the same. How right I was.
Please indulge me while I create a little bit of context. Last summer I was visiting my local TD bank here at Beaufort Center, and on a whim I asked a teller one day just what sort of experience I would need in order to be considered to work there. At that point I was really willing to try almost anything besides prostitution and telemarketing. After briefly explaining the kind of work I’d done in the past, she highly suggested I apply, as they were hiring. And so I did the unthinkable in this day and age. I introduced myself and my disability to their manager, and I left her with a resume, completely bypassing the online process. I expected little, yet I was bolstered by a few positive references and a reasonably decent resume. I thought it would be perfect! I could help people, learn about the overwhelming yet essential world of finance, and walk to work every day.
Chelsea was thrilled, and very supportive. She felt that while I wouldn’t get this job, it would lead me to something else in the near future. Even though I had an in, I still had to spend some time going through the online application process. Next came the phone interview, which was a step further than I’d gotten in a long time. and then it happened. The manager who I’d already introduced myself to called me in for an interview. Though I tried to maintain a calm exterior, secretly I was ecstatic.
But the promising interview came and went, and in the end I was positively rejected. I say positively because though I wasn’t hired, it was one of the more optimistic rejections I’ve received. The manager passed my resume along to another division of TD, and after yet another promising interview for an IT position I wasn’t really comfortable with – or qualified for - I was once again turned down. Nevertheless everyone in the branch kept telling me to keep applying. For the first time I wasn’t as disheartened by a rejection. I’d never considered going into banking, but now that it was a thought in my mind, I found myself hard-pressed to let it go.
Fast forward to January 2012. Chelsea’s newly-found pregnancy turned our world upside down and stripped off all its what-ifs. Suddenly all those big decisions we kept putting off became of the utmost importance. How will we support ourselves? And where would we live? Would we stay in Nanaimo, or move to Ontario like we kept saying we’d do? At the time I was part of the Lime Connect program, which worked with participating businesses to reach out to potential employees with various disabilities. The thirteenth of January saw me attending an employment conference in Vancouver where I would have the opportunity to meet one-on-one with potential employers for informational interviews. And who was there? Not one, but three banks, one of which was TD. Perfect!
The conference went great. TD seemed overjoyed to see me again, and I was supposed to hear from them in the coming weeks. BMO seemed interested too, though I wasn’t sure what they really thought. The only bank which didn’t seem all that impressed with my credentials was RBC. They made it a point to explain that sales experience was a major asset, and while I’d done some up-selling and promotion, that’s one area of expertise I was sorely lacking. Nevertheless they liked me as a person.
After that, Chelsea and I decided to give Nanaimo until the beginning of may. If nothing came of this conference, or if I couldn’t find anything else, we’d migrate to theoretical bigger and better opportunities in Ontario. At least there we’d be closer to family.
Then we lost our little one, and as quick as that, everything changed again. Nevertheless we held to our plan.
Weeks passed, and I heard nothing from TD. But RBC, the one company who didn’t seem interested contacted me, and I found myself going through the same steps as before; online application, phone interview, and after many weeks, a real interview with real people. By this time I didn’t kid myself with any expectations. Yet I found myself working hard to research the company and its values. I felt the need to work harder than I ever had before. Perhaps it was my barely disguised apprehension of moving to Ontario. Or maybe I’d traveled so far down the rope of rejection that I’d finally come to the noose at its end. But I was determined to leave a good impression if nothing else; one last harrow as a testament of all I’d learned about job-seeking. And so I prepared for whatever would happen.
The interview went extremely well, but then most of them had, right? I was very up-front about who I was, what I was, and what I could do. I explained that I’ve always loved people, and that working in a financial institution would give me a great opportunity to teach others to take charge of their finances, and learn about them myself. I left the interview feeling really good, but not expecting anything to come of it. By then I had resigned myself to the impending move. Maybe I wasn’t looking forward to it exactly, but I was beginning to imagine the possibilities instead of dwelling on the trials.
The call came the next day. The moment I picked up the phone and heard my interviewer’s voice, I felt sure I’d be rejected. I even shook my head and mouthed “no” to Chelsea. I can’t see facial expressions, but I imagine my eye balls must have nearly dribbled out of their sockets when he said “we would like to offer you the job”.
I felt the world dim a little. I wasn’t sure I’d heard him right? I almost asked him to repeat himself. I couldn’t believe it! For the third time in less than five months I felt our lives shifting directions. All of a sudden our carefully laid plans, the downsizing, the cross-country research, all of it disappeared for me. All of a sudden I had hope. I was employed, and after four years of searching, it was long-term. And more. For the first time in my life, I had the inkling that I could find a place of employment where I could learn and grow, and where there was no glass ceiling beyond that which practicality might lay on my muddled eyes.
The weeks leading up to my first day of training were full of preliminary paperwork, accessibility assessments and deep, almost teenage boy relaxation. With no more job hunting being necessary, and no stress about what to do next, I was free to just enjoy the heck out of my various hobbies. And so I read, wrote, played video games, spent time with Chelsea and devoted a little more time to practicing the piano and keyboard, all without any guilt. And it was glorious!
Then, both too soon and after too long, my first day as an RBC suitnoob banker began. But that, my friends is for another entry.
For the last four years I’ve searched this squelchy port city for meaningful and long-term employment, with the desire to provide Chelsea and I with a comfortable life riding on my back like a lice-ridden monkey. Rejected from Shaw Communications twice, I sought less ambitious customer service employment opportunities for a long time. It was all I knew; all I felt qualified for. I dreamed of going a different direction, but I never honestly believed I’d have an opportunity to get out of such dead-end work.
In the last two years I’ve had the opportunity – however fleeting of working with some wonderful individuals. I’ve gained experience in documentary and feature writing, narration, promotion and even audio transcription. I’ve discovered a love for audio design and have created two audio theatre pieces , the Noire inspired A Contract of Souls, and the alternate world fantasy Dreamlight. And I’ve discovered that while I have very little aptitude for it, I actually do have a little bit of talent in playing the piano and keyboard. But none of these experiences could have prepared me for the direction my professional life would take me. I said not long ago that no matter what happens this year, life wouldn’t be the same. How right I was.
Please indulge me while I create a little bit of context. Last summer I was visiting my local TD bank here at Beaufort Center, and on a whim I asked a teller one day just what sort of experience I would need in order to be considered to work there. At that point I was really willing to try almost anything besides prostitution and telemarketing. After briefly explaining the kind of work I’d done in the past, she highly suggested I apply, as they were hiring. And so I did the unthinkable in this day and age. I introduced myself and my disability to their manager, and I left her with a resume, completely bypassing the online process. I expected little, yet I was bolstered by a few positive references and a reasonably decent resume. I thought it would be perfect! I could help people, learn about the overwhelming yet essential world of finance, and walk to work every day.
Chelsea was thrilled, and very supportive. She felt that while I wouldn’t get this job, it would lead me to something else in the near future. Even though I had an in, I still had to spend some time going through the online application process. Next came the phone interview, which was a step further than I’d gotten in a long time. and then it happened. The manager who I’d already introduced myself to called me in for an interview. Though I tried to maintain a calm exterior, secretly I was ecstatic.
But the promising interview came and went, and in the end I was positively rejected. I say positively because though I wasn’t hired, it was one of the more optimistic rejections I’ve received. The manager passed my resume along to another division of TD, and after yet another promising interview for an IT position I wasn’t really comfortable with – or qualified for - I was once again turned down. Nevertheless everyone in the branch kept telling me to keep applying. For the first time I wasn’t as disheartened by a rejection. I’d never considered going into banking, but now that it was a thought in my mind, I found myself hard-pressed to let it go.
Fast forward to January 2012. Chelsea’s newly-found pregnancy turned our world upside down and stripped off all its what-ifs. Suddenly all those big decisions we kept putting off became of the utmost importance. How will we support ourselves? And where would we live? Would we stay in Nanaimo, or move to Ontario like we kept saying we’d do? At the time I was part of the Lime Connect program, which worked with participating businesses to reach out to potential employees with various disabilities. The thirteenth of January saw me attending an employment conference in Vancouver where I would have the opportunity to meet one-on-one with potential employers for informational interviews. And who was there? Not one, but three banks, one of which was TD. Perfect!
The conference went great. TD seemed overjoyed to see me again, and I was supposed to hear from them in the coming weeks. BMO seemed interested too, though I wasn’t sure what they really thought. The only bank which didn’t seem all that impressed with my credentials was RBC. They made it a point to explain that sales experience was a major asset, and while I’d done some up-selling and promotion, that’s one area of expertise I was sorely lacking. Nevertheless they liked me as a person.
After that, Chelsea and I decided to give Nanaimo until the beginning of may. If nothing came of this conference, or if I couldn’t find anything else, we’d migrate to theoretical bigger and better opportunities in Ontario. At least there we’d be closer to family.
Then we lost our little one, and as quick as that, everything changed again. Nevertheless we held to our plan.
Weeks passed, and I heard nothing from TD. But RBC, the one company who didn’t seem interested contacted me, and I found myself going through the same steps as before; online application, phone interview, and after many weeks, a real interview with real people. By this time I didn’t kid myself with any expectations. Yet I found myself working hard to research the company and its values. I felt the need to work harder than I ever had before. Perhaps it was my barely disguised apprehension of moving to Ontario. Or maybe I’d traveled so far down the rope of rejection that I’d finally come to the noose at its end. But I was determined to leave a good impression if nothing else; one last harrow as a testament of all I’d learned about job-seeking. And so I prepared for whatever would happen.
The interview went extremely well, but then most of them had, right? I was very up-front about who I was, what I was, and what I could do. I explained that I’ve always loved people, and that working in a financial institution would give me a great opportunity to teach others to take charge of their finances, and learn about them myself. I left the interview feeling really good, but not expecting anything to come of it. By then I had resigned myself to the impending move. Maybe I wasn’t looking forward to it exactly, but I was beginning to imagine the possibilities instead of dwelling on the trials.
The call came the next day. The moment I picked up the phone and heard my interviewer’s voice, I felt sure I’d be rejected. I even shook my head and mouthed “no” to Chelsea. I can’t see facial expressions, but I imagine my eye balls must have nearly dribbled out of their sockets when he said “we would like to offer you the job”.
I felt the world dim a little. I wasn’t sure I’d heard him right? I almost asked him to repeat himself. I couldn’t believe it! For the third time in less than five months I felt our lives shifting directions. All of a sudden our carefully laid plans, the downsizing, the cross-country research, all of it disappeared for me. All of a sudden I had hope. I was employed, and after four years of searching, it was long-term. And more. For the first time in my life, I had the inkling that I could find a place of employment where I could learn and grow, and where there was no glass ceiling beyond that which practicality might lay on my muddled eyes.
The weeks leading up to my first day of training were full of preliminary paperwork, accessibility assessments and deep, almost teenage boy relaxation. With no more job hunting being necessary, and no stress about what to do next, I was free to just enjoy the heck out of my various hobbies. And so I read, wrote, played video games, spent time with Chelsea and devoted a little more time to practicing the piano and keyboard, all without any guilt. And it was glorious!
Then, both too soon and after too long, my first day as an RBC suitnoob banker began. But that, my friends is for another entry.
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
It's been a hard day's night. And I've been working like a dog.
We made it. We made it through Remy's first official week at the bank. Remy really enjoys his training, loves the company so far, and is enjoying the people he is working with. As a wife I couldn't be happier to hear this, and as the one working there Remy is pretty happy about it too.
It certainly has been an adjustment for our family though. Remy and I both have had different jobs throughout our marriage but for the last year Remy has been working from home so we've gotten to spend all our time together. Anytime I've needed help with something, some extra attention, or we needed to go somewhere he has been able to take a break and I have loved it, well 95% of the time I'm not a saint. :) Now Remy is gone 10 hours a day and we are learning a new rhythm. We certainly aren't complaining because we couldn't be more thankful for his job, it's just learning a new way of life. I make sure to have all the chores done, dinner on the table, and any phone calls or e-mails made so we can just have the evenings together and Remy can just relax.
I wanted to make Remy's first week of work special so I decided I would do something to surprise him everyday when he got home. It has been a blast coming up with different things to do and I love how surprised he is.
The first day was a plate of his favorite sugar cookies, I made them *Warning strong stomachs only* in hearts because I love him and stars because he's my super star (we both laughed super hard when I told him the reason for the stars) :
The second day I made a "Welcome Home" banner for him that he saw as he walked up the stairs:
The third day I wasn't going to be home until 9 (YW) so I bought him his favorite snacks to have while I gone for the evening:
The fourth day I brought the "Welcome Home" banner to the bus stop and waiting for him when he got off.
The fifth day didn't get a picture.
I was just going to have it be the first week but the Bishop told Remy "It won't last" so now I feel like I should keep it going plus it's fun. We'll see...
I am so thankful that Remy has this job and that he is able to work to provide for our family. He is such an amazing man and I am so grateful for all the things he does.
It certainly has been an adjustment for our family though. Remy and I both have had different jobs throughout our marriage but for the last year Remy has been working from home so we've gotten to spend all our time together. Anytime I've needed help with something, some extra attention, or we needed to go somewhere he has been able to take a break and I have loved it, well 95% of the time I'm not a saint. :) Now Remy is gone 10 hours a day and we are learning a new rhythm. We certainly aren't complaining because we couldn't be more thankful for his job, it's just learning a new way of life. I make sure to have all the chores done, dinner on the table, and any phone calls or e-mails made so we can just have the evenings together and Remy can just relax.
I wanted to make Remy's first week of work special so I decided I would do something to surprise him everyday when he got home. It has been a blast coming up with different things to do and I love how surprised he is.
The first day was a plate of his favorite sugar cookies, I made them *Warning strong stomachs only* in hearts because I love him and stars because he's my super star (we both laughed super hard when I told him the reason for the stars) :
I was just going to have it be the first week but the Bishop told Remy "It won't last" so now I feel like I should keep it going plus it's fun. We'll see...
I am so thankful that Remy has this job and that he is able to work to provide for our family. He is such an amazing man and I am so grateful for all the things he does.
Sunday, June 17, 2012
Me ... And a gun ... and a man ... on the floor
Today is Father’s day. Today we honor those men who brought us into being. Fatherhood is a blessing, an learning experience, a test of endurance, patients and character. For some it might even seem like a curse at times. We have fathers who are tough (but fair, right?), and we have fathers who spend their entire lives devoted to the well-being of their families. Then there are some fathers who just beat their kids to instill discipline, or because the bottle or stress tell them to, but don’t worry, this isn’t one of those stories. No matter what kind of father we have, we often take the opportunity to regale anyone who will listen with amusing, tragic or sweet anecdotes of fatherly life-shaping which helped mold us into the people we are today.
I’m going to take that tradition to heart. So join me will you?
My dad was once an auxiliary RCMP officer and – as I only today found out – a shooting instructor. So I thought, what better way to honor my father than by telling the story of my first memory of him. It all began with two big guns and two dead men, and it ended with a lesson that has followed me all my life.
I am a six-year-old boy, playing innocently in my dad’s office. He is an auxiliary police officer. I love the crisp smell of the uniform. Dad would go out and take down the bad guys like a movie hero. I know I shouldn’t be in here, but I am very curious. Dad keeps two enormous guns in an unlocked plastic box. I want to touch them. I want to feel their weight and play with their moving parts. I want to take down the bad guys just like dad.
The guns slide easily out of their foam cushions. To my tiny hands, they are like two great cannons. Big boomers that can stop evil people. One is slightly larger than the other. It’s a 357, and I can’t hold onto it! But the other fits in my little hands snugly. It’s a 38 special! Now I am Officer Remy Chartier; bad guys beware!
Two gangsters attack me from the open door. Boom! Boom! They’re dead. Their blood will get the carpets all icky. Sorry, mom. Another jumps through the open window. Boom! Back out the window with you, scoundrel! One huddles under the desk. “Mercy! Mercy!” he shouts.
“You’re under arrest!” I say. “Hands behind your head! One false move and I’ll shoot!” He obeys, and I slap the cuffs on him. He’s going to jail for the rest of his life!
Boom! A bullet hits me in the side. Luckily I wear a bullet-proof vest. I spin around. Another gangster stands in the open door pointing his gun at my head. Where did he come from? The hall must have softened his footsteps. I try to run. But I can’t move fast enough! Boom! He shoots me in the head, and for a moment I stumble around like Chucky when he was still human and the cops shot him at the beginning of Child’s Play. Am I bleeding badly? I think I might be. As I stumble around, my head hits the corner of Dad’s desk. It hurts so bad! I am suddenly just a six-year-old boy again, blearily peering down at the gun that, nine years later would very nearly put a bullet between my eyes for real.
Dad calls me into his office later that day, and I know I’m in big trouble. He had the guns sitting on his desk. I can’t see his expression, but I don’t have to. He makes me sit down.
“You been playing with Daddy’s guns?”
“No.”
Of course I said “no”. I was just a child, playing childish games. I don’t remember the conversation my dad and I had that day, but one very important lesson was born from it. My dad told me: “A gun, even an unloaded one is a tool, not a toy.”
I have never forgotten such a simple, yet practical lesson. I detest firearms. Not because they are tools used for killing, but because of the sheer arrogance and finality they bring about. Through the years, I’ve seen that the way of the gun leaves no room for survival. One who holds the gun can kill at a distance, and never get their hands dirty. It’s a cold and impersonal way to kill, and running is often futile.
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