File this under: Advice I Hope To Take In The Future.

I had a busy weekend this past.. er… weekend.  (My writing!  It is awesome!)  I had a guest in from out of town and a big Halloween party that we attended.  As usual, that means I have had an extraordinary amount of work to get caught up on since Monday, and almost no energy or focus with which to do it.  This happens every single time I have a three day weekend.  It also happens every single time I have guests in from out of town, or a holiday falls over the weekend, or I take a weekend trip.

If my weekend is busy, my Monday workload starts to bleed into Tuesday.  And then Wednesday.  And by about Thursday I’m just barely starting to feel like I’ve caught up.

It occurred to me on Monday that perhaps what I should have done was anticipated that I was going to be particularly run down and planned ahead a little better.  Or a lot better.

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Don’t tell me you have it harder. Or better. Or that you had no choice. Or that you sacrificed. Don’t tell me you’re a working mom or a stay at home one. Frankly, I just don’t care anymore. I’m over it. “It” being the debate in the Mommy Wars.

Opt-in to Motherhood. Opt-out of Work. Opt to whatever works for your family. On-ramp! Off-ramp! On-board! Oh my!

I don’t care. I won’t judge you. We can be friends no matter which side of the aisle you are on. It’s time for bi-partisan mommy peace talks.
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I’ve spent most of my work life in commission based jobs.  A raise meant selling more stuff than before and, therefore, earning more commission.  How much money I made has always been directly tied to how well I did my job in a measurable, tangible way.

I’m goal oriented and a hell of a salesperson, so this model has always suited me well.  It has not, however, prepared me for the world of salary negotiations and discussions about raises.

In my current job, I earn a base salary combined with a commission bonus.  It’s the first time in my life I’ve had a guaranteed income.  It’s also the first time anyone has offered me a raise.

Last week, I turned down a raise.

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I spend at least 8 hours a day sitting in front of my laptop.  Both my full time job and all of my side jobs are conducted on my handy dandy Dell Inspiron notebook.

The good news is, I can conduct a good portion of my business sitting in front of the TV, or on my back patio.  (Truth be told, I work almost exclusively on a patio because I like to be able to smoke when I write.)

The bad news (aside from the fact that I still smoke, I know) is that all of this computer time is killing my back.

I have decent posture when I’m standing and walking.  I probably couldn’t balance a book on my head, but I have never been much of a sloucher.  And yet, when I sit down in front of a laptop, I immediately hunch over the keyboard.

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Hello my gorgeous, awesome, and totally put-together Full Time, All the Time readers.  It’s been a while hasn’t it?  I hope you haven’t forgotten about me while the fabulous Miss Britt held down the fort here.  I’ve been on an unexpected blogging hiatus.  I wish that I had witty reasons for my short-term leave of absence, but the truth is that life smacked in the face.  Then the gut.  Then push me down and kicked me some more.

In other words, I suffered through my first Summer Break as a working mom. Then right when I felt like I was getting it all in control, life sucker-punched me in the face with Kindergarten.

When my son finished preschool in June, we decided (and by “we” I mean, I thought I had the best idea ever) to let our son have a real summer.  We spent lots of time at the pool.  I spent countless hours shuttling between home and a morning-only summer camp.  We played outside with our neighbors.  Saw nearly every PG or G movie in the theaters. And my son finally found bravery to ride his bike without training wheels.  It was fantastic.

I also spent hours upon hours working late into the night to make up for the lost hours during the day. 
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Two weeks ago, I wrote about how important alone time is for me as a person, woman, mother and working mom.  It helps me find my center and refuel so that I have the mental and emotional energy I need to continue taking care of the people who count on me.

A woman named Monya left a comment on that post that broke my heart, and took me back to a point in my life when alone time seemed absolutely impossible to find.  I had neither the child care, money nor hours in the day to find “me time” - alone or otherwise.

“You need a trip to the spa!” people would say, and I wanted to punch them in their perfectly exfoliated faces.

“Oh, honey, go take a bubble bath,” my girlfriends would advise, and I wanted to shout back “RIGHT!  SERIOUSLY!  Because 20 minutes in a tub will MAKE ALL THIS GO AWAY!”

And, I assure you, there would have been much caps lock shouting involved.

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