One of the best things about working from home as a freelance writer is being able to wear whatever I want. While I was pregnant, this meant huge old sweaters and lounge pants. Today, it means… well… old tanks and t-shirts and lounge pants.
My husband makes endless fun of me for basically living in pajamas. It’s a habit I developed while nannying. I saw no reason to wear nice clothes if I was going to spend my day on the floor with a baby, toddler, cat and Boston terrier.
Pregnancy and baby chasing have provided the perfect environment in which to continue this practice of comfortableness.
While I used to be content with just any old lounge pants, I became pickier, however, when my sister introduced me to Punjammies. These are pajama pants that are made by former sex slaves in India. The women are residents of after-care facilities, where they are allowed to rebuild their lives though medical attention, relationships and development. They also make amazingly beautiful pants/capris/shorts of which I cannot get enough.
I have no qualms about wearing what are essentially pajamas as I go about my day, and I make an effort to put on jeans if I’m going to run to the store or something. But, I figure that, if I am going to go about in lounge wear, it might as well be gorgeous and for a good cause.
For those of you that love comfy pants, fabulous fabrics and supporting women in need, check out the links I’ve provided, and BUY THE PANTS!
*Note – the pants in the picture are from Women at Risk, which is another organization for women escaped/rescued from trafficking situations.
So, I made a soup, and it was unexpectedly a-maaaaaah-zing.
The goal was to use lentils in a simple soup that both Iris and I could eat. I had base to use up and plenty of veggies. I also wanted to incorporate my Johnny Secreto Sultan’s Gold seasoning, because it’s this fabulous way to give a dish a distinct yet sophisticated Indian flavor, and that’s exactly what sounded good.
I was not prepared for the hearty and satisfying bowl of umami goodness that we ovo-semilacto-pescetarians secretly crave. But there it was.
Last weekend we threw Iris a proper (belated) first birthday party, complete with a theme (fish), decorations, kids and too much cake. The weather was perfect, and it was an absolute blast.
Pressed for time the day before, I picked up a cupcake for Iris to demolish, as is the custom. The Meijer bakery was without any fish-themed cupcakes, and so I settled on one with a big pink rose. I suppressed the little voice that said I should give her a whole grain muffin with coconut glaze, and focused instead on how cute she’d look with her personal confection.
I must say, I’m quite proud of the gusto with which she inhaled the cupcake. Sweets are a rarity for our wee one, and she never turns down fruit, let alone the gooeyer treats. Her concentration was complete, and the whole cupcake was gone in just minutes.
Yes, Facebook is a HUUUUUUGE timesuck. I waste seconds “liking,” minutes commenting and hours staring blankly far more than I should.
There are days when I close the Facebook tab, so as not to hear the little blip noise, or see the parenthesed number indicating a new interaction. I tell myself I do NOT need to know everytime someone else got into a heated conversation, or liked that lame eCard.
It’s the only way I can get any work done.
But, I want to say, for the record, why I think Facebook isn’t all bad. Why it might even even be a valid timesuck from time to time.
One time, when I was, like, three, I ate a buttload of strawberries and broke out into hives.
Fortunately for me and my love of all things red and berried, it’s never happened again. I can enjoy strawberries just like almost everyone else, as long as my intake doesn’t come too close to my own body weight. I imagine that’s basically what happened back in ’84, knowing me.
Before now, when I was a restaurant slave, I spent a lot of time prepping cases of strawberries for salads and desserts, and it was all I could do not to eat the best of the lot.
I have this running list of things to do that are at once entertaining and productive. Things like “read Smithsonian and Natural Health magazines” (to which I subscribe) and “write for fun.”
Rarely do I get to them, or for more than three minutes at a time.
While these to-do items make me no money and add nothing to my resume, they do remind me why I love to work in words. They remind me of the best of fiction and non fiction. They let me take a tiny break from being Wife, Mom, Freelance Writer, and connect me with both a younger and an older self.
Reading and writing for pleasure have always been preferred pastimes, and always will be. They are at my essence. Further, as a writer, I think it’s vital that I seek out new fascinations and keep tabs on old passions.
I am endlessly fortunate that I get paid to write, even if in a non-glamorous capacity. Sometimes, though, it’s nice to do it freestyle.
updated on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. Mondays are personal and seasonal. Wednesdays are practical, and usually about food, health and/or science. Fridays alternate between posts on my freelance career and a taste of the creative. Thanks for visiting!