Finding Your Voice

It took a complete stranger to lead me back here...to a place I love, my blog. I've never really had a direction for Cassandra's Corner. I'm not a fashion blog, mother's blog, or political blog. When I started this blog, I was fascinated with sharing my thoughts. My life has always been an open book, so why not share with anyone who is interested? But the more I blogged and began to follow other bloggers, I felt pressured to find a lane or niche.

Then yesterday happened. Yesterday, a person I was meeting for the first time said she loved my blog posts. I was taken off-guard. I hadn't blogged in so long I almost forgot I had one. She continued by saying which ones she particularly liked and why she enjoyed them. As I listened to her, I couldn't understand why I'd deserted blogging. Sure, life with two kids has been crazy and I think I have shared previously that I'm not balancing all that well. But if I am honest with myself, the true answer is I don't make time for it. You see I honestly felt I had nothing to say. I lost my voice. 

So, I logged in today and went to the two posts this stranger loved and I read them. I read them with open eyes and an open heart. I allowed the words to wash over me and was amazed at the story and honesty behind those words. In that moment, I realized I hadn't lost my voice. I silenced it. I fell victim to chasing the wrong the thing and abandoned what made me want to blog in the first place.  So, I don't care if I ever gain another follower and I don't care how many people read each post. I'm just here to share. Just know that my voice is unashamed, honest, vulnerable, and bold all at the same time.

Saying Goodbye to President Obama

On the eve of the inauguration of President-Elect Trump, I find myself watching interviews of the Obamas and feeling like the first time I watched the Friends series finale. I feel like an era has ended, one I knew could not last but never thought of the day when it would. He was the first time the candidate I voted for won the presidency; so, he has truly felt like my president and not just the president.

Since his speech at the DNC while still a senator, I have believed in and supported him. When I read Audacity of Hope, I knew I wanted him to be my president. I like many others felt that maybe he ran too soon in 2008 but God knew better. I watched election night on needles and felt my heart swell when it was announced he won. I watched his inauguration and was overcome with emotions I didn't know I had.

The past eight years have not been perfect but I still feel they have been great. My family and my career grew over the past eight years, and although not every moment has been ideal I have never lost hope. No matter the circumstance, rhetoric, and craziness occurring throughout our nation, the Obamas always seemed hopeful. I think this hope spread to many of us.

It has been a joy to watch both President Obama and First Lady Obama. Their warmth and love for people radiated in everything they did. I never felt so connected to a president or first lady as I did the two of them.

Now, I'm sure it's not secret I didn't vote for Trump. I actually loathe the man. I'm not fearful of him or his presidency, but I do fear the future. We, THE PEOPLE, empower a president. The problem lately is I don't trust us as a people. At some point we became mean. We stopped trying to unify and began looking out for self or preserving our self interests. It's sad to watch and as a minority frightening to think of the possibilities.

Hitler was able to do the atrocities he did because the country was in a hurtful, divided place. When he took over and demonized the Jews, the rest of the German population turned a blind eye because they were too wrapped up in self to care or realize what was happening. Many of them were frustrated with things in their country and easily bought into the propaganda that the Jews were to blame. Is Trump Hitler, no. Are we Germany circa 1930, no. But when I hear how we have demonized Muslims and immigrants in this country and the "fake news" that permeates our media, it's all too close for comfort.

So, to my Trump supporters and for those that feel I need to get on board you have to give me a moment. It was hard for me to accept that I would only see Friends through reruns and my DVDs, that there will never be a new "the one where..." episode. It will take me a while to embrace this new president, but I will because I love this country. But please believe I will not turn a blind eye to anything and he will have to earn the sentiment of my president. I didn't vote for him and I don't trust him or the parade of characters he has presented as a part of his administration. On January 20th he will become the president and I will wait, hope, and pray that he earns the title my president.

Giving Up on Work-Life Balance and Blending

Lean in, lean out, work-life balance, work-life blending--all words I want to burn in a blazing bonfire surrounded by every parent that has struggled internally with pursuing their own career dreams while fulfilling the precious role of a parent.

It's funny. You spend your entire life planning for what you want to be when you grow up. We have all answered the question and depending on our age our answers have ranged from superhero to firefighter to doctor or social worker. Then at some stage in life, around age 30, we are expected to define that even more and we add titles like director, CFO, manager, or principal. But here is the funny part. Nowhere are we ever expected to address what kind of parent we want to be. What kind of home life do we want to lead.

We make these plans. These five year goals and then after we find the love of our lives, get married, add a dog, and then decide we want to grow our family all of a sudden we have to make the children fit into the plan. It's no wonder why this work-life balance thing is a challenge. It's almost designed that our children and family are an after thought or a "how can I make this work in my plans".

If I sound bitter, I may just be bitter. I want my career. I really do. Just not at the expense of my family and children and if I'm honest this balance or blending thing gets harder to juggle everyday. I find myself selfishly keeping my children up late so I can make up the time with them I spent leaving work late and in traffic. If I didn't do this, it would literally be dinner then bed. I would have NO time with them. Then after we put the kids to bed, I have the 15-20 minutes (depending on how long it takes for me to pass out) to actually talk to my husband.

I've asked other women and I've gone to all the female leadership conferences on "having it all" and "work-life blending" my stomach can take. What have I learned? That this balance/blending thing is a myth told to little girls to give them hope. The truth is there are 24 hours in a day. Sorry, only 24. For every second you give to one thing, that's a second you no longer have for something else.

I'm told that some days you will give more to your career and others your family. Honestly, I would like to see those days because they don't exist Monday through Friday. If I hated my job I guess this would all be easy. But, I don't. I actually like what I do and the people I do it with. That doesn't sound right I know, but I'm up late typing this because I blended my work and life poorly today.

One thing has become clear to me and that is sacrifices and compromises have to be made. Again, only 24 hours. So, the question I'm asking myself is do I want to be that mom at the soccer game on my Galaxy Note, tablet, or whatever typing away at emails. Do I want to have to run home from work, catch the recital, only to jump back on my laptop at night to make up for the time I spent supporting my child?

Oh and before you begin to comment and tell me all the marvelous things I can do from home, the consultant work I can undertake, or the business ventures I can start, I am not entrepreneurial. Never got that spirit. I HATE cold calling or attempting to sell people anything in any fashion even if i believe in it I like I do Jesus.

I honestly believe I shouldn't have to make those type of adjustments or leave and go to a company like Google, this magical place where people go to work but it feels like play. I mean Google can't hire everybody. Instead we have to move to some work models that resemble the days of pharaoh a little less and the days of....well, I'm not sure...Google more.

If you read this rant, please accept my sincerest apologies. It morphed from a blog post to a vent fest.

A letter to my son

So I am definitely that mom taking tons of pictures of my little ones, saving them to Shutterfly and Snapfish, creating all types of memory books and scrapbooks. I am quite proud of the fact that my two year old son's baby book is up to date and full of loving memories of his life thus far. The other day I finally sat down in a rare moment of silence and managed to write my letter to him. My original desire was to have the letter penned before he was born but I could never settle on the words to say. After finally completing the short but what I feel to be the perfect letter, I decided the words were applicable to every one I love. So...I have decided to share it here. May you as the reader find yourself in these words.




My Dearest Antonio,

As your parents there is so much we want to say to you and so much we want for you. First and foremost we want you to know and feel that you are loved. We want a home for you filled with joy and laughter. We will endeavor to be good role models. In life there will be many things that will challenge or sadden you. It is our hope that you will be strong enough and confident enough to overcome them all. I can't promise that we will never fail you. I can't promise that you will love or agree with everything we do. What we do promise is to love you always and to give the best of who we are and what we have.

In life the bravest thing you can ever do is try. So try son. Try new things. Try to be good. Try to be loving and understanding. Do these things boldly. Trust in God and in who you are.

We love you son!

Feeling guilty about not having mommy guilt

So, I know the title seems a bit weird and confusing. Well the gist of things is this; I miss work. I'm five weeks into my maternity leave and I miss my job. Now I read a lot of different mommy blogs and I have quite a few mommy friends on Facebook. All too often I see and read the posts about the war between stay at home moms and working moms. All too often I see this word guilt threaded throughout the discussions and debates. There is so much dialogue surrounding the guilt working mothers feel about the time they spend away from their darling children. Stay at home moms often discuss the desire to have something for themselves outside the home and the guilt they feel surrounding that desire. I have yet to see any dialogue for the third perspective in this little drama and that is of the woman that feels no guilt. Let me explain.

I love being a mom. I wouldn't trade my new role for anything in the world. I wear my mommy hat proudly. I envision myself to be a mixture of Claire Huxtable and Roseanne Arnold. Claire was always so polished and captivating. She had the career and the I can't believe you have children body. I loved her disciplining style because she never raised her voice or exhibited frustration. Roseanne's house was always a mess. She always had some crafty and unconventional way of disciplining the children that made for a good laugh. Well, I'm not always polished but I endeavour to be. I think I'm captivating  and so far I'm doing well with the whole frustration and raising of the voice thing. My house is always a mess; I take pride in this mess. The kiddies are two and under so I have some time to develop my crafty disciplining skills. I say all this to say that I take my mommy role seriously and, although I don't love every minute of it, I couldn't imagine my life any other way. But being a mommy isn't enough for me and I don't have guilt over this.

I used to think I wanted to be a stay at home mom until I had my first child. The entire time I was on maternity leave I missed work. Upon returning to work I didn't experience that gaping hole every one warned me of in which I would miss my child all day and hate the fact that I was back at work. The opposite happened. I quickly jumped back into the swing of things and found myself delving more into my work. I leave every morning glad to go to work and I don't feel guilty about it. Work fulfills something in me that I don't quite understand yet but I know that fulfillment allows me to be an even better mom. I have an extra joy because of it and I shower that joy on my family.

It took other moms probing and judging to make me question if something was wrong with me. Why don't I have that guilt that I read about of other working mothers? Then I began to question every decision and action I made since I learned I would be a mom. Why didn't I get that hysterical crying fit that pregnant women speak of? Why didn't I cry the first time I held my son and where was the overwhelming rush of love that was supposed to sweep over me? Why was I able to go on a date night with the husband six weeks after my son's birth and not have separation anxiety? Many would say I'm broken. They'd question my sanity and call me a cold and emotionless monster. Something has to be wrong because no mother should feel this way.

Much like a teenager learning to be confident in her own skin I had to learn to be secure in who I am as a mother. I had to learn that the only rule, or ingredient shall I say, to being a good mother is to love my children as Christ loved me. I also began to remember something from my marriage counseling. The priest explained to us the importance of keeping each other happy and how through our happiness our children would be happy. Of course he was speaking about the marriage but I realised this applies to the individual as well. In order for me to give joy I must possess joy. You can't give what you don't have. I understand that at this point in my life working builds me up and makes me happy. Knowing this, I walk boldly and proudly as a mom and I rest peacefully at night. No guilt at all.

My Favorite Part of Me

I've shared how blogging has opened up this other side of me and the joy I find in typing out my story/journey then releasing it to whoever. There has been something both therapeutic and enlightening in this. Well, I've only recently been opening myself up to other blogs. One of my favorites is Momastery, not because I think she says anything profound or just downright truthful, although she often does to me, but because I feel like what she is sharing is honest. Only in my adult life have I come to appreciate and understand the value of honesty. We always say we want honesty and we want someone honest in our lives. But do we really? What I've witnessed is that more often than not we want someone to make us feel cozy and warm on the inside. We want someone to wipe away the bad things in life and paint pretty pictures. We want someone to help us cope with brutalities. Well unfortunately honesty sometimes is the opposite of cozy and warm and the picture isn't always pretty.But I think as we mature we begin to understand this more and more. So, I find myself gravitating towards honesty. I like when a person can share without fear that she isn't always the best mother or wife, that she sometimes neglects her husband or children in search of her own solace, that she is confused to the point of insanity and can't tell you which way is up. Am I saying these are good things, NO, but they are honest things. Only in our honest moments can we begin to address what is happening around us, embrace the present, and begin to live for the future. I say all this to say that in one of Glennon Doyle Melton's posts on Momastery she said something that stuck out to me.

"This morning I was prepping the kids’ lunches and dancing in the kitchen to the Grateful Dead. I was happy. I am always happy when I’m about to take the kids to camp.

And I sang this part really loud: “first one’s named sweet Anne Marie, she’s my heart’s delight.” I love that line. Heart’s Delight! Anne Marie! And I started thinking about what a precious name Anne Marie is and how much I just LOVE everyone in the whole world named Anne Marie. And then I said a prayer for all the Anne Maries in the world. That they’d have a few brilliant moments today in which they’d feel wildly and completely loved.

That whole Grateful Dead/Anne Marie thing took about five minutes. That five minutes made me so happy. There was a THERE there. Because that was my soul, there dancing and praying for all the Anne Marie’s in the world. I love that wild, nonsensical part of me. I need some time to get back in touch with her- to invite her front and center again because I want HER to lead me through this life. I choose HER- even if she makes no sense to the world at all."

The link to the full  post is here: Momastery: Goodbye Internet.

To me what stood out is the part highlighted in yellow and it made me question my favorite part of myself. I don't think I ever stopped to realize what I love about myself. Now that I have I would definitely have to say my honesty. Over the past years I have struggled with learning to balance being honest with being humble and sensitive. I'm still learning but I can honestly say that I love this part of me. People always say they know they can count on me to be honest. This part of myself is challenging and I don't think I even fully understand it. But it's also the part of me that I want to always remain and to to shine brightly for the world to see. I think we should all find that part of ourselves that we love and want to be front and center in all that we do. So thanks Glennon for helping me connect with my favorite part of me.

Answered Prayers

A coworker asked me to pray for her the other day and added that God answers my prayers. This caused me to pause briefly. What does she mean? What does that mean? I was truly taken off guard. The sentence rattled in my head the rest of the day and even the next morning. I woke up, read my daily devotional and boom there it was, "God answers your prayers". What does that mean? I couldn't wrap my head around it. Why couldn't I wrap my head around it? Honestly, because I felt it wasn't true. I automatically began thinking to myself that she must see something that I don't see in order to derive that God answers my prayers. Do she see me as blessed or privileged. If so, she obviously isn't paying close attention because my life is always hectic or always troubled by something. If I were to do a quick synopsis of my life right now it would go like this...

 my father, a hemophiliac, is having surgery on his knee soon, my mother has some underlying issue going on with her-most likely stress induced-that the doctors haven't found, my mother-in-law keeps having little health scares that thankfully have been minor, my brother is in jail, my job hasn't decided what direction to take with my position, my husband's car is on the fritz, the oven, washing machine, and air conditioning all stopped working at the same time, my bank account is dismal, I don't know how we are going to expense the much needed trip to Colombia and still stay above water, we need to put the Cub in childcare soon if we want to have a second child because that is way too much to put on the mother-in-law, I keep gaining weight and the scale frightens the daylights out of me, I need to replace my sofa but the bank account is still dismal, I can't sell my house without owing the bank my first born, and I'm in need of a pedicure.

OK I threw that last part in there because it was getting too heavy. Now this is just the surface stuff that I can share. The more personal stuff that involves other people I won't share-not because I am ashamed, my life is an open book, but I must respect the privacy of others. All that being said, what does she mean?

I had an epiphany a few months back that I never shared in which I realized that God has done so much in my life. The problem is I couldn't see it because of all the other stuff that was still unanswered or unresolved in my life. Sure I gave thanks for each hurdle or obstacle I'd overcome, but like any runner in the race I didn't pause because up ahead was the next hurdle. No runner stops in the middle of the race and celebrate jumping the first hurdle. No. You celebrate once you cross the finish line. I haven't crossed the finish line. Well...so I thought or felt. Then she made that statement and I stopped. Apparently, I had crossed the finish line and several at that. She had witnessed my triumphs, mainly because I share everything. I share my life because I always think to myself that others could be where I am or where I was and it is my moral duty to impart the wisdom and lessons learned to others. It may not always apply to that person's life but it gives perspective and insight. Isn't this why we have adversity and trials in life? So we grow and help others to grow. So we learn to lean on and trust in God. I'm still learning to lean and trust.  

My last thought on answered prayers. I gave my rant of the challenging things happening in my life right now. I've prayed feverishly for resolutions to these items. A friend shared a devotional with me that again floored me and changed my perspective. I've always felt like a lot of people lean on me or look to me for answers. I often feel burdened and tugged on but I do my best to be there for people. Lately, I began praying that these burdens be removed from me. After all do you see my list. I have stuff too. Well this devotional spoke to Jesus and how along his travels people would stop him and rely on him for encouragement, healing, etc. It spoke to the fact that the disciples leaned on him. All in addition to the task that God had for him. It then spoke to the fact that Jesus never complained and always made a point to be there for every one that sought him out. The scripture focus was Psalm 41:1.

"Blessed is he who considers the weak and the poor, the Lord will deliver him in the time of evil and trouble".

That day my prayer changed. It became clear to me that I didn't need to pray for my burdens to be removed; instead I needed to pray for strength to handle all that God had laid before me and to understand how God would like to use me in the lives of others. Talk about answered prayers. I still have my moments where say when is enough enough or hey this plate is getting a little full. But in the end I now know that people are watching and seeing the God in me and how is moving in my life. I'm working everyday to be a good reflection of Him. Key word...WORKING.

Women and Mothers Unite

I've never been one of those women that championed other women and viewed us as a collective. Truth be told rarely do I view myself as a collective of anything and I've done this deliberately. Mainly because I feel that we create divisions as a people when we add identifiers like woman, black, christian, mother, etc. My rationale was always that these identifiers make it appear as if another person can't relate to me or my story if they don't share those same identifiers. For example a white or Latino woman can't share my joy or pain because she isn't black. I've always fought this idea because I honestly believe you can learn from anyone and relate to any story. For this reason I've challenged and stayed away from anything that had divisions like that.

Lately, I've been reading a lot more blogs and opening myself up to the journey and ideals of people I don't get to encounter in my every day life. This has helped me in several ways. First, I'm learning that we are all very different and very same at the same time. This duality is so intriguing to me. How can something be the same yet different? But it's true. We all have the same fears, the same hopes, and the same struggles. We have different packaging as to how we approach and view those fears, hopes, and dreams. I'm learning that my struggle or journey is not unique to only me. This has been empowering because I know for me it's difficult for me to see outside my situation when I'm in the midst of managing it. It's nice to read some one's journey that mirror my own and see that there is light at the end of the tunnel. Even when there isn't light and there appears to be no answer or solution other than tough it out and endure, it's comforting to know I'm not alone. Lastly, I've learned that we as people aren't as detached as one would think. I'm always hearing that technology has ruined us socially and families don't communicate, communities aren't connected, and the world is going to hell in a hand basket. I'm seeing something different. We want to connect. We want to share. All these blogs and social media prove that.

As a new mom I've been more inclined to read the mommy blogs and it's amazing to me to read how other women view motherhood and embrace the day to day challenges that come with that role. It's also amazing to me the automatic support women give other women the moment they say I'm a mother. For the first time I began to find myself embracing my identifier and allowing myself to be a part of collective. Not because I believe that non mothers can't identify with me or understand what I am experiencing but because I had found a safe haven. I had found a voice that mirrored my own. As I read the words of these other mothers, my spirit dances and celebrates the pure simplicity in having someone that just gets it. Oh the just gets it is so important. To not have to explain. To not have to feel judged or criticized. To not have to share my story with the nagging voice asking should I really say that. It's liberating. As people I think we need that. I think we need solace and we need to have a place where we can go and truly be free. It's like the theme song to Cheers, "I want to go where every one knows my name". I think we all want to go where everyone knows our pain, our joy, our story and just get it.  I'm not saying that I'm ready to start my own version of the He Man Woman Haters Club. But, I finally get it. I just get it.

Racist or Not...This is Dumb

So it has been quite a while since I posted and to think that my first post from my hiatus will be about an ignorant, at least in my opinion, blog I had the opportunity to read is a little depressing. The problem is I felt so moved by what I read I couldn't think of anything but taking fingertips to keyboard and pounding out my thoughts. Those that have the privilege or misfortune of knowing me know that I believe every one is entitled to his/her feelings, beliefs and opinions. I hate when someone tells another person how to think or feel because there is a reason that individual drew the conclusions they did and those experiences and feelings should not be undermined. This, however, does not mean that the feelings and beliefs of others don't anger me because if that were true you wouldn't be reading this post. So, below is the link to the upsetting blog that prompted my need to post.

http://dailykenn.blogspot.com/2012/12/how-to-manage-black-communities.html

The first few sentences sum up the gist of the blog:

• The best way to manage black people is through family planning.
•  The objective isn't to control blacks, but to create a black community that is self sufficient, relatively crime free, and not dependent on white people.
• Aside from our national neurosis that compels us to embrace denial as a high moral attribute when applied to America's black culture, the obvious fact is that black Americans, as a whole, have a difficult time taking care of themselves.

This person honestly believes that we can fix the black community by limiting their reproduction to only the "intelligent". I won't even comment on the list of black people provided as examples of intelligent people that should be allowed to reproduce. Now, to this person's merit I did note that the post was ended by saying this can be applied to other races.

What I find most upsetting is I know this person's thoughts are shared by many and that is disheartening. The black community is not full of thugs, low lives, and degenerates like the media and it's champions like Neal Boortz would have you think. To address the community as one that needs to be treated like you would treat a rodent or pest infestation is abhorrent. My second problem is this individual would reply to me and say' "I wasn't speaking of you because you are obviously one of the intelligent ones". Dependency on government resources and aid (not dependency on white people as stated by this person) is a poverty and education problem. Not only a black community problem. I won't delve into statistics, trends, and studies. I will say that the problem is multi-layered and must be addressed on various levels, starting with education. To me everything stems from education. You know better so you do better. When you do better you feel better. When you feel better you produce better. To do this every child needs access to a quality education. I can assure you there are huge disparities between schools even in the same educational system.

Now, I am both too "intelligent" and insightful to associate this person's beliefs with every non-black person. I attended "predominately white schools" and shared experiences with people that I know in my heart looked to me as a peer and friend and cared nothing about the color of my skin. My community was so nice that I actually grew up thinking racism was a thing of the past and that the few ignorant people that were out there were few in number and some radical crazy group. When I read posts like this one it shows me that we are further from being a unified people than I thought. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr had a dream that one day little white girls and little black girls will walk hand in hand and play together. I have a dream that one day little girls will play with little girls and all these descriptors that we place on each other-- White, Black, Latino, Muslim, Catholic, Baptist-- will disappear. We use these titles to identify ourselves but the only thing they seem to do is divide us. People commit crime; not races or religions or sexual orientation. Find solutions to fix poverty, crime, hatred, and disease and stop worrying about fixing "the black community".

 Lastly, since when did intelligent people stop killing and committing crimes?

More Responsibilities=Less Balance

I always laughed at celebrities when their response to how does it feel to be a new mom was I'm learning to find a balance. Well I'm no celebrity but boy does this balance thing get tricky. I've recently acquired more responsibilities at work, which is naturally demanding on my time. I find myself rushing home barely making it in time to play and spend time with my precious cub. I feel myself missing him and I squeeze him with hugs every time I walk through the door. If you've been following my blog you know I've been fortunate to have help from one of  my mothers. Well I say that to say I don't know how mother's without the additional help do it. Let's just say that dinner is made, the house is clean, and laundry is maintained because my mother has picked up my slack. Without her my house would look like a garbage dump, laundry would never be done, and my husband and I would live off take out. Earlier this year I resolved to working out and getting fit. This lasted two months. I have not worked out since the last week in February. Needless to say the two inches I lost in my waist are back with a vengeance. I wore a dress the other day and I swear I thought I was pregnant again and at least six months pregnant at that. Do I have to say UNACCEPTABLE? I won't even go into detail on how I've taken advantage of my poor sweet husband. I thank God for the patience he instilled in that man. I don't know if I've mentioned how patient my husband is. You know how you meet people that are the most compassionate or the most giving? Well, my husband is the most patient person you will ever meet and I know God designed him with me in mind because it takes a lot to deal with me. If you have anything less than the patience of Christ you will find yourself upset with me often. I've gotten off track though so back to this balance thing. How to do it all? I'm open for any recommendations from those of you that have managed to conquer this. Some thoughts I have that will help:
1) Create a schedule and stick to it. I'm thinking I need to actually devote certain days and times of the month to various tasks i.e. laundry every Saturday morning. I've tried this once before but somehow I was always thrown off by this event or that but I realize that maybe I need to treat these commitments as just that COMMITMENTS. So, I cannot cancel these events.
2) Learn more crock pot and quick meal recipes. I first need to get a cook book. Every time I go to the cookbook aisle I'm overwhelmed by the selections then I start questioning whether the recipes are any good. I hate recipes that call for items you never have in your house like dill or mustard seeds. I have mustard but never mustard seeds. Oh and flat leaf parsley, they only sell those things by like the barrel and I always end up wasting them because recipes only want like two pinches from the barrel.
3) Start saying No at work or at least tell them my limitations. Too often when I asked if I can have something done by the end of the day I reply sure. From now on, if it will prevent me from getting home at a decent time, I'm going to say no. If my child were in daycare I wouldn't have this flexibility and I would have to commit to a reasonable schedule. Most importantly I want and need this time with him. He's only five months old.