DARN TEUTON!

Why is it, that every time I try to trim M’s nails, I end up making sharp pointy little talons instead?

I’m giving myself an eye twitch stressing about this job search.  I wouldn’t be quite so upset if I hadn’t spent $100K on a “safe” law degree which was supposed to open the door to stability and millions.  But the start-up costs are so high, and the job is generally so sucky, that my time would have been better spent pole dancing. I would have started out as the Sexy Librarian in the early 90s, then moved on to a Tina Fey in the aughts, and finally retired as a Sarah Palin. (With some Lisa Loeb thrown in for the bar mitzvah circuit).

These poor schlumps from the Huffington Post agree. (As an aside, does HuffPo seem like a liberal Fox News to anyone? Why is the sky and/or someone’s top always falling there?)

I made my own baby food today.  Partly as an homage to Earth Day (actually, I just thought of that just now), but mostly because I completely ran out of breakfasty food and didn’t think M wanted pureed turkey for the most important meal of his day.

Baby food is incredibly easy to make — I just pureed pears with an immersion blender — but I sill couldn’t get the consistency quite right.  M did not like my attempt at hippie culinary excellence one bit.  Which is fine, because I don’t think I would have been able to puree any real food for him.  Unless we bought some kind of fancy blender, which I know P would like.

Our balcony is off of the bathroom. I sh*t you not (no pun intended). When I am too lazy to take M for a walk outside, but it’s still too cold to sit in the sun (Psst, Spring. You’re late), I prop open the door and put M in his bouncy seat just next to the tub. That way, I can sit on the toilet using the laptop for its original purpose: reading the interwebs while on the john.

I’ve started up the job search again in earnest. We had always thought that we would go back to New York by the end of this year, but it looks like it might take longer than we thought to get all of P’s papers in order, shuffled and stamped.

Neither of us want to stay in Munich if we don’t have to. P is pretty flexible job-wize, and, as the limiting reagent, we’ll move wherever I can find a job. Since no one will be impressed by my German, comprehend my French or understand my Russian, the only options for me are the UK or the Scandinavian countries where the work language is English. Considering that both P and I prefer the island climate, the frozen north is not really an option for us. Plus, I’d love M to have a nice plummy accent.

And so yesterday, I sent off a beautifully crafted cover letter to accompany my semi-lackluster CV to a London law firm, and bright and early this morning I received a polite rejection. They didn’t even “wish me luck on my future endeavors” or tell me about “my excellent qualifications.” Throw a girl a bone here.

I’m beginning to think that all that talk about law school paving the way to riches in a variety of fields was just a way to get my hundreds of thousands in tuition dollars. But a law school wouldn’t lie to me, now would it?

Okay, so I’m immature. Tee hee.

Things that I have accomplished while not working:

Cooking! Or at least, making soups and salads. I like to make meals that all fit into one bowl. Sometimes I even chop things.

Reading! Many many blogs and facebook status updates. I’m a little jealous of my friends who never update their statuses, since that means that they must have lives. On my do to list: getting a life.

Language! I learned, and forgot, basic German. If I can do it once, I can do it again. This time, I’ll try to focus more on the learning and less on the forgetting.

Brain Tricks! I have memorized The Very Hungry Caterpillar and The Cat in the Hat. How many other people can say that? Probably anyone with children. Maybe I should read M the Iliad?

I can start with the most recent complaints, and then move backwards to the ones I missed during my hiatus.

I’m on “maternity leave” now, which is kind of ironic considering that I didn’t work for the nine months before M was born. (I got pregnant the *second* we landed here — must have been the fresh alpine air, which now that I think about it, should be pumped into the well-appointed soothing mauve waiting rooms of fertility clinics the world over). I am, however, getting maternity benefits from the state based on my 3 months of work in New York before we moved here. It’s not the maximum I could receive (yet another reason I wanted to have M sooner), but it’s not bad, and free money is free money. Sadly, M is making more money for our household than I am.

For the first three months, I didn’t mind not having a job. In fact, I don’t know how women go back to work after 6 weeks in the U.S. After 3 months, it gets easier on the baby front, but it’s kind of nice being at home. But now, at 6 months, I’m about to go CRAZY. It’s so, so, so, so BORING. I mean, would a childfree person spend the entire day pointing out animals in a picture book? Of course not. Being a parent doesn’t make that activity any more interesting.

And it has nothing to do with being alone all day (or all week, since P travels for work). I’ve gone to some mommy groups (ugh. I hate that term “mommy group” — why would grown women call themselves that?) but they’re not for me. I go out to lunch, I take long walks, I do some shopping, but that’s not really enough.

I’m not saying that I’m not busy. When I fall into bed, I’m dead tired. But I haven’t really done anything all day. My friends gave me lots of tips: take a yoga class, learn a language, work out. All good ideas to fill up the day, but no different from a lady who lunches.

So my question is: What do stay-at-home moms do all day? Is this it, or am I missing something?

My last post was seven-and-a-half months ago, which I know without even looking at the date. Carnival-work aside, my astounding knowledge of the calendar is gurgling about 10 feet away from me: my son is six and a half months old now. Granted, the first three months were *slightly* time-consuming, but there’s no excuse for my lack of posting since then. So to my reader(s?), I apologize.

I was just thinking this morning how I don’t have much positive to say about … well, anything, and although I find that to be part of my charm, it may not make for the best blogging.

Wrong.

It makes for the BESTEST blogging.

Who wants to read about sunshine and rainbows, when you can commiserate with another crabby lady in the comfort of your own home? It’s like a bitch-fest girl date and you don’t even have to wear heels. Win. Win.

I went on a job interview last week for which I was supremely qualified. However, I am also supremely pregnant, and I think they were a wee bit surprised to see my belly announce itself prior to my entrance to the conference room. I believe that is when the job requirements included fluency in German and knowledge of Chinese — you know, for an English-language journalism position on an English-language magazine, for an international company whose office language is English.

But, in their defense, not even in the U.S. would an 8-month pregnant woman be hired for a job starting 3 weeks before her due date — but here, where women are afforded a 3-year maternity leave (with the first year at 2/3rd’s pay) — it was especially stupid to think that anyone would hire me, just to have me, in their minds, take 3 years off.

I tried to explain that I already had a nanny lined up — but the nanny concept hasn’t really taken off here. Of course, people have the occasional baby-sitter and what not, but the idea of having a full- or part-time nanny so that a woman can work is so foreign as to be unbelievable. (Of course, wealthy women, who do not work, have nannies. It would be as if I told them that I had hired an English governess — who could talk to woodland creatures, dance on the ceiling and use an umbrella as personal aircraft).