Transitions

I've been searching for a way to break the ice after such a long absence from my once-loved blog.  I realized tonight that there isn't a smooth way to do this where I glide back in, segueing into a well-crafted post after a pithy sentence that somehow erases the months and months that I've been away (only proverbially... in real life my only absence was a lovely few days in Austin this spring).

Rather than explaining my absence (so very, very busy with... life) or trying to play catch-up (which would never work well), I'm just going to jump right back in and see what happens. It's my blog after all and that's how I want to do it.

Things are changing in my life.  After seven straight years at home with my children, I am returning to work this September.  I'll be back with the government, in fact, with the same department but in a much diminished role.  I didn't truly expect to go back at the same level I left, given I was away for 7 years but I didn't really expect to return to an entry level position.  However, things are really tough in Canada's public service right now.  People are losing jobs not getting them.  I'm just so thankful to have found something that will fulfill the debt that I owe the government from my maternity leave top-up.  I don't owe them money... I owe them time.  If I hadn't found a position, I would have had to pay that top up back. 

The position I've taken will be for one year.  I don't know what will happen after that.  I'm not too concerned at this point.  Right now I'm completely focused on reorienting our family from one where there is a parent home full-time who is largely responsible for most stuff at home - meals, laundry, cleaning, school work, play, lessons, etc - to having two parents working full-time and all the kids in daycare and school.

I'll be tough.  Particularly on me.  On the plus side, there will be more money in our pockets.

And that is the first transition.  The others are much more interesting to talk about, but I'll save that for another night when the UK version of Life on Mars isn't calling my name.

It's real now

Yesterday I informed my boss and the language training coordinator and one of the daycare providers that I'm not coming back for at least a year. Wow, it's real now. Asking for just one more year still gives me the option, after the year, of doing the French training, or I can continue the leave. Leaves options open for me. Just one more daycare to inform and then it's all done. It feels right.

Of course, Emily has proven "challenging" since I made the decision to stay home. A total coincidence but funny and tragic at the same time. She's just being, well, bad. She pours water on the floor for fun. She dumped a bowl of water into Hope's mouth during the bath (much choking, spluttering and crying ensued from Hope). The best one was when she put two balls inside our sub-woofer (still trapped in there until we do some sub-woofer surgery). This one actually made us laugh (in private). It's attune to grilled cheese in the VCR.

Top all that with the "why's". I'm going crazy with the why's. Why is it hot? Why is it dirty? Why are you making lunch? Why I hungry? All rather philisophical I suppose but also SO ANNOYING. I try and be patient but after 12 hours of this, I think Job himself might throw something.

Time to get on top of the cleaning. This house is disgusting. I get sick, the place gets very dirty, very quickly. Why is that? Why is it when the woman gets sick, nothing runs quite the same? Oh right, because I'm the woman.

That just wasn't in the brochure.

The anatomy of a decision

It took well over a week, and it was a tortuous week at that, but I did finally arrive at a decision yesterday. I was hoping all week that suddenly the "right" answer, or maybe I should say the most comfortable answer, would suddenly be revealed to me. That's the way these things often work. All of a sudden you just know what you should do. But this time, in this the hardest decision I've made, it wasn't happening.

And then, in the cliche to end all cliches, it came to me while I was sitting in church yesterday. It had nothing to do with anything going on around me. I think it was just time to pick a side.

On Saturday night, I talked to my friend Anne. Anne did her French language training just before going on maternity leave. She didn't enjoy it. She's also the person I know who did it most recently and so I wanted her take on it. She enlightened me on a few things that I didn't know and reminded me of a few things I'd forgotten.

The language training taught to employees of the government is "taught to the test," which means that the instructors are, logically I guess, teaching you in a way to pass the levels tests. The tests are multiple choice and done on computer, except for the oral testing. Anne came out of the training getting a C level in writing (very high) and not being able to write a paragraph. A year after finishing the training, she felt she couldn't speak French at all because she hadn't used it.

My plan, as you know, would have been to do the training and then go on unpaid leave while the girls get to the end of Kindergarten. My French would be gone by then, even if I used it occasionally with them or around the city. Added to that is that you have to retest ever 5 years. So, if I took 5 years off then I would still be faced with applying for jobs without my French or having to retest soon after I started a new job, and likely have to retrain anyway. So, why miss out on the year with the girls when the training would just have to be repeated and be a very frustrating process anyway, as it would not be giving me what I really wanted: true bilingualism?

After talking to Anne, I thought about it the rest of the night, but the answer was becoming more obvious. Sitting in church beside Emily, I turned to her and said: Emily, is it okay if you don't go to Mimi's school next year and we just stay home instead? She said: Yes, I want dat.

As soon as I decided that, the knot in the pit of my stomach went away, my shoulders relaxed and I felt really, supremely happy. During the week, when I briefly decided (a few times) that I was going back, I felt tense, anxious and sad. This was what I needed, this was the moment I was looking for, the sign that I made the right decision.

Thanks to everyone for all your comments. They were all read and mulled over and discussed here in our house.

Now we start living like students again. And probably no Boston. It'll totally be worth it.

What would you do?

Well, here it is. The long-ago promised navel-gazing post where I wax on about my choices for next year. Ready? Hold on tight.

I want to continue to be home with the kids. I'll say that right out of the gate. It would be an easy decision but for one thing: my French language training.

For you non-Canadian federal government employees out there, let me give you the low-down. Most jobs in the Canadian federal government are classified as bilingual imperative. This means that when you're hired you are expected to be able to read, write and speak a certain level of the other official language (specified in the job ad as level A, B, C or a mixture thereof). Okay, if you REALLY know nothing about Canada: that would be French and English. For example, a job like mine is rated CCC English/French. This means you need to read, write, and speak both French and English at a very high level. The only level higher is E for exempt, which most native English and French speakers would be given for their mother tongue. First paragraph and I'm already going into WAY too much detail.

There are a few jobs in the federal government that have another, highly sought after classification: bilingual non-imperative. Bilingual non-imperative is the holy grail of federal government job classification and becoming very scarce, I might add. Bilingual non-imperative means that you can be hired even if you are unilingual and the government will pay you your regular salary while they train you to become bilingual to whatever the level is for your job.

My director went to the wall for me to get my position re-classified (lots of Canadian federal government lingo being thrown around here - sorry about that. However, being that I work for the Department of Foreign Affairs, where creating symbols and acronyms is actually a hobby, even a career in itself - I'm not kidding - I'm being rather reserved.) to bilingual non-imperative. It is nearly impossible, in the current political climate in Ottawa (Stephen Harper and his brutal excuse for a government), to find an advertised non-imperative position.

Okay, so you now have the background of my dilemma. I've done all the required testing so that those who need to know now know my current levels for French (sad state, I'm afraid) and how long it will take for me to get my C levels (39 weeks, full-time language school). My director, Gisele, was supposed to find out during this year (while I'm on maternity leave) when I would start my French. (Typically, there is a big waiting list.) The idea was that I would come right off leave and into French training.

About two weeks ago, I inquired for the umpteenth time with her to see if she'd heard anything. Without going into great minutiae, she hadn't heard anything but she had a name. I left a voicemail. Nuttin'. I sent an email, copying relevant others and finally got a response. Yadda, yadda, yadda, after providing a bunch of information that my director could have provided herself, it looks like I can probably get into my French training in November sometime, which is what I wanted.

Or so I thought.

When I got this news this past week, my first response was a sigh of relief. I'd been hoping for this for a long time. But as the day went on, I felt more and more anxiety about it and the reason is, I want to be with Emily and Hope. Period.

But... Again, the buts. To pass up this training is tantamount to stupid in a lot of circles. If I don't take it now, well, that ship has sailed, my friends. I have great daycare lined up for both kids - Emily at a wonderful French preschool where she'll re-master the language, and Hope at a French home daycare with a friend of mine who I know is excellent. We'd all be learning French together. But, they won't be with me, and as egotistic as it sounds, nothing will ever be as good as being at home with me. In my oh-so-humble opinion.

Last year, when Emily was in daycare and I was back to work, was one of the hardest years I've had. I was badly pulled between two things I really loved - my family and my job. Okay, so yes, of course I love my family more but most days, I also really liked my job. I never felt I played either role perfectly last year because I couldn't give either pursuit the time it deserved. Also, weekends were not great - I played with Emily and spent time with John but while Emily slept, I cooked and cleaned and had pretty much no time to myself except when I was at work. And then, I was working. It was really hard. But not in a fun way like being at home with the kids. Being a stay-at-home-mom is definitely harder than working outside the home, but the rewards are way bigger and for me, there's a lot more satisfaction knowing that I'm doing one thing REALLY well. I can only imagine that it will be even more difficult to balance it all when I have two kids to think about, oh yeah, and learning another language to boot.

So, what do I do? Yes, money will be very tight if I'm not earning a salary, but I'll be happy. However, in a few years, when the kids are both in school full-time and I'm figuring out what to do job-wise, will I regret not getting my French while I had the chance to have it paid for? Especially being that so many jobs in Ottawa, even outside the public service, require bilingualism. Or will I regret more missing this year with my kids? (Regardless of my decision for this year, I will be staying home with them after this year while they get through the kindergarten years. At least, that's my plan.)

John has been very careful to ensure that this decision is mine. He's also helped me see all the angles. He said this: I can always take French another time, but I will never get this particular year back with my kids and I should consider that along with everything else. This is very true. But it's also unlikely that I'll have the opportunity again to take full-time French training while earning my full salary.

This is one of the hardest decisions I've had to make, if not the hardest. I need to decide within a week or so because I need to inform the daycares what I'm going to do. I could tell them yes and then bag off if I change my mind (and lose some down payment money). I could tell them no and then if I change my mind find other daycare. Not the best option as good daycare takes a lot of time to find. It's out there but it takes a lot of looking. Or I could start the French, and if I hate the training (a common sentiment from people I know who have taken it. This is not a romantic, foreign-language school, self-indulgent ritual that you see in some movies) just quit and pull the kids out of daycare. An option, but a very disruptive one for everyone involved.

Clearly, I'm heavily conflicted. I'd like to know, what would you do?

I thought I'd left that behind for a while

When I walked out of the office on my last day on July 28 I thought I'd said goodbye to the bureaucratic annoyances in being a civil servant that I often complain about here (and anywhere else I can). No such luck. Last Wednesday went by with no pay. Then Thursday, Friday and so on. I emailed my pay clerk who was away and left no forwarding name. He's back today and to his credit, answered my email at 7:43 this morning. In another example of government efficiency, they stopped my direct deposit. I guess they figured I will have all the time in the world to be depositing cheques when I'm on maternity leave. Who finds direct deposit handy after all? To top it off, they didn't even mail the cheque to my house. Oh no... they decided it would be more convenient if they sent it to my division so that I could drive across the city and pick it up! Needless to say, I have politely requested that direct deposit resume, which it will from now on.

If this was a one-off I wouldn't complain so much. I'd chalk it up to human error, too much to do, yada, yada, yada. However, this exact same problem happened at the beginning of my last maternity leave! Oh yes, it did! I guess you can't fault them for being inconsistent in their inefficiency.

The countdown is seriously on

Maternity leave. It is within my grasp... by, like, three days! My last day of work is this Wednesday (today being Monday). After that, I begin holidays for two weeks and two days and then officially start my maternity leave on August 14 and have no plans to return to any employment situation until September 4, 2007 at the earliest. And if somehow I strike it rich before then... then, hah! Screw you, land of paid employment!

The next few weeks will be fun, but tiring I expect. Emily's daycare is closed for holidays this week and next so Thursday and Friday I am looking after her (John is on duty today until Wednesday). During this week I must also finish painting her room. Then on Sunday we're all off to the cottage for a week or so. I have been looking forward to that all summer. I am going to float my big, fat body in the lake feeling all weightless and skinny until my skin is so wrinkled that I look like an octegenarian whose reproductive system didn't quite get it right.

About half way through our week there, Beth and Graeme are going to join us. I'm very pumped about this since I only see Beth about twice a year and that isn't enough. It is especially sweet to be at the cottage with her since we essentially grew up there, during summers at least. I envision some minor construction, some bakery on the beach and some water ballet. She'll know what I mean about the last two.

Then after our return home, Emily will return to daycare for a while until she goes part-time and I will do my best to do some advance cooking and serious sleeping which just isn't going well these days.

I'm so focussed on "optimal foetal positioning," as the experts call it, that I sleep almost entirely on my left side. This means an extremely sore hip and shoulder. I'm such a martyr. It does seem to help though with the baby's position along with spending at least 30 minutes on my hands and knees while watching our new favourite show, Veronica Mars, on DVD. Seriously, check it out.

Until now the horrible situation in Lebanon has not affected me directly at work. But now, my workload is increasing quickly as a result, and so, I must cut off my amusing ramblings and turn my attention to what I am supposed to be doing to earn my keep.

Argh... what now?

This week I was informed that there is a two to three year back log for language training in the government. This is for full-time language training - the kind I am slotted for and was planning to enter into right at the end of my maternity leave. Although I originally planned not to return to work, financial issues and the ability to get full-time French training while drawing a salary and having much better hours made this the option I decided to choose. However I also knew that there was no way I could return to this particular job with two children at home. It has been very difficult to do my job and my job as a mother/partner in this particular position in the government. Now I am faced with the fact that, if I return to paid work after my maternity leave, it might very well be back to this very office, doing this very job, until a space opens for me in French training. So, my new decision, pending discussion with John, is that I will take leave-without-pay following my paid maternity (the government very generously grants parents up to five years of leave-without-pay for "care and nuturing" of children) leave until I get the chance to do my language training. I'll have to likely look for something to help help pay bills but I have a couple of ideas that I could do from home.

I see this from two views: a great opportunity for me to spend more time with my children - which is what I wanted to do from the start, so I'm not actually upset about this; and from the other side, the idiotic bureaucracy of a government that demands I be bilingual (I'm glad of this if they pay for it) and yet aren't actually able to offer it in the 24 month time frame they give you to actually become bilingual. So, if you can't get your levels in the 24 month time frame you actually have to appeal to the Deputy Minister to grant you an extension of up to one year. This effectively means that you are given an extra 12 months to get placed in the language school and you better pray that you get placed in there with more than a couple of months left to get your levels or you are cooked. Does this make sense to anyone out there? I would potentially be penalized/lose my current position because I don't get enough time to get my required levels - even though it totally isn't my fault! It's because they don't have enough teachers/resources to actually offer it... how dumb is that?! Anyway, I have no idea how this will play out but I do know that there is absolutely no way I can do this job again. So, either way... I'm out of here. And yet again, the government wins the award for the "dumbest thing I've ever heard."

If I was 70-odd years old, I would not be here

Walking through my building this morning, I took note of something that I've noticed before. In my building, in this government department, there are a lot of old people who should be out there enjoying their retirement years. These are not people in their 50s or early sixties. These are people who are definitely in their 70s and are here on contract, probably after long careers here as foreign service officers. They look happy enough. They don't seem to begrudge being here... but what the frack? I think it's sad that they don't have something they'd rather be doing. I know they have good pensions. They probably bought their houses in Ottawa when they were going for about $30,o00 and are now worth $300,000 minimum. That's a decent return.

I just think it is really sad when work becomes someone's life and s/he can't define her or himself without it. If I was retired, I would be doing everything I always wanted to be doing while I was working. I am totally living for retirement. That's also sad being that I am only 34. Only 30 years to go!