Chitter Chatter

Here are random responses I have received from people after deciding to quit my job and pursue a life of parenting, passion-projects, and publicizing my life (had to fit in another “p” word to keep it consistent).

Comments about parenting:

• “You won’t regret spending that time with your kids.” (Haven’t had any regrets other than I should not have put that purple marker in my pocket last week and forgotten about it when washing clothes.)
• “If you can swing it financially, it is the best decision you will ever make.” (Well I cannot swing it financially, but that does not stop me.)
• “You can never get these years back.” (Spot on. Right on. Rock on.)
• “If I could do it again, I would be content cleaning toilets instead of chasing the almighty dollar as long as it meant spending more time with my family.” (This was the gut-busting quote that took me over the edge and made me take the leap. This came from my mentor, who has kids that have rapidly grown into adults, and I trust this opinion so much because it came from someone who has already lived this part of their life and has reflected on the have’s and the have not’s.)

Comments about work and my future business ideas:

• “Sounds like you are doing art projects that I used to do in fifth-grade.” (Damn straight. Do you want a tie dye shirt or a non-functioning candle that I am still learning how to make? Or how about a houseplant that I am attempting to propagate? Or maybe some smoked cheese, or a used book or a vintage vinyl? Your choice, and sometimes I can be smarter than a fifth grader.)
• “You can always go back into leadership.” (But do I even want to do that?)
• “I am living my life vicariously through you.” (By all means. I am living mine through you, too.)
• “How is life unemployed?” (If you define unemployed as parenting two small gremlins by day, creating in the crevices of my free time, and working as a scientist by night and weekend, then I have so many questions for you.)
• “There is no money in the record store or book store businesses.” (This one came from a close friend who knows me all too well. However, she forgot one thing, I am no longer concerned about the almighty dollar. At least for today, tomorrow, and the foreseeable future. Who knows if my greed will return at a later date.)

Comments about finances

• “You will save so much money on daycare.” (See above comment about not being able to swing it financially but doing it anyway. See alternate comment about how I do not care about money anymore.)
• “If you can afford it, then do it.” (Shoo, Money. You always seem to find your way into any conversation or situation, don’t you? I have no need for your small thoughts and your made-up connection to happiness. Go use your mindless tactics on someone who gives a damn.)

A Day in the Life

It is impossible to describe a typical day for me since every day feels so different from the next. The bulk of my time is spent hauling around a shopping cart-sized stroller that seats one kid on the front and has an adventurous bench and a platform on the back for the thrill-seeking three year old. We go to and from one of the four parks in our neighborhood, we spy on the geese at the retention pond, we seek out new playgrounds and look for cool lawn ornaments to ogle at. We eat snacks, we swing, we slide, we dance to Disney songs, and we thank the musical gods on the regular for sending us Lin-Manuel Miranda and his melodious and motivational lyrics. Seriously, I think half of my mid-life crisis can be contributed to listening to the Encanto soundtrack on repeat.

I devote my soul, energy, and mind to the gremlins as much as I can. It has taken a lot to minimize my screen time (I finally took the plunge and set time limits on most of my apps), and it is a constant struggle to not focus on keeping the house clean or work on the boring budget. I have to keep telling myself that I am the responsible party for my children, and I am the Keeper of the Experiences. While none of us are capable of changing a person’s character, we can at least open as many doors of possibility as we can and show the big-minded miniatures what is out there in the world. And oh, is there a great deal out there. My word.

During nap time, which tends to be nonexistent these days, I try to make some time for myself. Tie dye has become a creative outlet, and I am really digging the fact that I get to be a scientist again, plus I get to go thrifting for white clothing and throw a sustainable spin on things. Candlemaking has been another wormhole of delight, but damn if I cannot get those wooden wicks to work. I am, however, becoming quite skilled at mixing colors, but the scents still have a lingering smell of musty old house. Hmmmmm…..perhaps lavender and cedarwood in fact do NOT have the best relationship? Moving on to more science experiments.

As a couple, Frank and I have been exploring the scene of cold-smoking cheese, and I feel as if my love for cheese has gone to a whole other level….a kind of love I did not know was even possible, and this is coming from a person who has had two babies laid on my chest for the very first time (this can be defined as the Ultimate Moment of Love). Yeah, the cheese is that good, folks. Now for those pesky FDA regulations, figuring out how to ship cheese, pricing, infusing, etc. So much to learn, certainly not enough time.

Last but not least, I have been writing.

On Writing Emails.

Come to find out, writing is something I love to do but never gave it the attention it deserved. My reconnection with writing was awakened after I did a survey at work with my team. The survey asked the team (of around 75 people), what were my strengths as a leader, and what were opportunities for improvement (a polite way to say, “What annoys me about you, and how can I be nice about saying this?”). The cheers and jeers that were sent in my direction were a tad life-changing. Lab folk are a certain type of people who do not normally wear their heart on their sleeves, but this survey was anonymous, so people were allowed to be honest, and I feel like this technique for evoking detailed feedback was somewhat effective (until someone came up with a strange rumor that I was targeting and identifying people by the responses. Wow, wish I had that kind of time).

The team gave a vehement response in the opportunity section in regards to the length of my emails, which felt were my only true method of communication to the staff since we were working in a 24-hour operation. They said my emails were too long. And they were not wrong. My emails were way too long.

Small background – We did this survey for all nineteen of the leaders on this team. This survey was a brain baby of mine that was supposed to be a 5-year project to promote self-awareness and personal growth. Over five people in this group took me to HR for this project, demanding I be stopped, the fear of being exposed was in their realm. They did not stop me, and I hope they learned about themselves after enduring this “painful” experience. The truth can be scary. I bet they are still consoling themselves on how the data was skewed or false. Or maybe it has helped them in some microscopic way (that is the dream). Oh how hard it is to be accountable.

They had other things to say about me in the survey, like my attendance was poor (this one was hard to swallow, still to this day – I was salaried, I worked 40-50 hours a week, and I did not realize I was being spied on.), I should learn the bench and technical work (fair point; training we did), I cared too much about feelings, I was too emotional. All true, all helpful.

But the emails being too long comments kept festering in my brain like a boyfriend from the past that you cannot stop wondering what in the world compelled you to make a decision as such. What was the driving force? Still a head scratcher until this day….anyway, back to the emails. I could not stop thinking about this critique on my character. The feeling was not anger, but mere suspicion and curiosity. Why was I writing these long ass emails? What motivated me to do so?

And of course, I came to the conclusion later that I was trying to write for an audience, and emails were my vehicle for having a voice. Simplifying this down…I knew I needed to have a writing vehicle in my life, and I was over this vessel being a manager role where no one has time to read nor is the coaching resonating. Work is work, and I tried to turn it into a motivational speech. Ain’t nobody got time for that. But I gladly thank whoever was brave enough to write me about my writing.

Honk for Brain Space

Part of me quitting my job was to allow my brain more space to do the exercises it truly longed to take on. And I was doing the same thing for my heart. Both of them pay me by the hour, offer great benefits, and they are direct yet empathetic to my needs. Sounds like one heck of a boss. Since I have shown them more kindness than ever, they have blossomed into colorful, sparkling fireworks that have shown me that if I trust the process, do the right thing, and care about the world around me, life will be good no matter what setting you are in. The universe is listening, and I have stories crammed in from 4-year old Jamie Pitts (the OG Jamie) that are pounding at the door to get out and boogie. And we will be dancing very very soon.

The ultimate point of this long ass blog was to be good to yourself, and give your brain some damn space. Because there is probably something there that you have always wanted to do, but never looked past the first five minutes of how to do it because there were too many barriers in the way.

I can speak from experience.

If money were no object, what would you have done for a living?

Now find a way to do that in a smaller manner without giving anything up.

Then keep on going.