Working From Home VS Not

Has your partner ever said to you “you’re lucky that I ________”? As in, “You’re lucky that I cook ya know, most husbands don’t”. Really? That day, my husband came home (and as always I was sitting at my computer, with nothing made for dinner, or even prepped) and said that, to me. For a brief moment, I admit, I did feel bad. I mean, I work from home, couldn’t I have started something? At least pulled out a cutting board and a knife to create an air…an intention…something? For the brief time our eyes were locked, the last 10 years of my life flashed before me. Side note: Our whole marriage, before and after kids, he has cooked. He is a great cook, even went to George Brown for culinary. He owns a butcher shop in Muskoka for the love of God…I mean, this guy LOVES to cook and eat. So it has just evolved over time that he is the family chef. So why say this to me now? With our eyes locked, him looking tired from working all day and having to come home to make dinner; me, looking tired from working (albeit at the kitchen table) all day, and having no culinary talent whatsoever…we were locked in a dead zone. Each thinking the other had it good. Then it hit me. He has no idea what he’s talking about! Then the last 10 years started to bubble up from my chest to my throat, out my mouth. As his eyes look away, I started. Here’s how the rest of the convo went:

I realize you cook, and I love that. You wouldn’t last a day if I did the cooking. And what if you didn’t do the cooking, would you just come home from work and sit on the couch and watch TV? Do you even realize the things that YOU are lucky that I do? For instance, ever notice how there’s always toilet paper on the roll? Or toothpaste in your drawer? Or how there’s food in the fridge for you to make dinner? Crazy how the girls (our daughters) got a dental checkup, physical and their eyes checked this year. Who made those appointments? Ever fill out a school form? Volunteer on that school visit to the mayor’s office? Have you ever bought one, ONE! birthday present, Easter egg, Valentines gift, stocking stuffer? Do you ever change the kitchen hand towel, or the espresso machine filter? Do you even know baseboards need to be dusted? Or that the fish’s water needs to be changed? Have you ever waited 1.5 hours for your eldest to finish gymnastics, or wake up at 6am to register for the coveted swim lesson times? Do you even know when the kids need new underwear, knapsacks, even a haircut? DO YOU KNOW SHEETS NEED TO BE WASHED???

God. I could go on and on and on. It’s actually cathartic to write about it. If you have been nodding your head this whole time, you know EXACTLY what I’m talking about. Working from home somehow makes it seem that you can fit in all the regular house/family stuff “in between” working. It’s sooo not the case. At this point, I’m ready to go work in the shed, ya know, so I’m not technically “working from home”. Sigh. 


Andrea

This whole blogging thing

So I've always wanted to blog. I love reading blogs, especially ones that are funny and insightful. One of my favourite blogs I've been reading since she started years ago, is LaineyGossip. She’s just got that knack for writing, mostly about celebrities (if you’re like me, I love reading about celebrities, not sure why, guess part of me is still 21). That’s the reason I can relate to my 21 year old niece so well, and I’m over twice her age (sigh). I’ll never forget when she introduced me to some of her friends as her “aunt”, a piece of me died that day. 

Anyhoo, this whole blogging thing. No one will probably ever read it, but I've always wanted to do it, so here we are. Now that I have a platform to actually write through, why would I pass it up? I’m definitely not looking to be the next Lainey, I just want to get better at writing. This blog will be a bit about everything. I started writing about my business, but you can only talk about that for so long. I’m thinking…celebrity culture, movies, TV (I’m one of those cable fans), thrift shopping, mom stuff and anything else that seems relevant. Hopefully one day I’ll actually have a reader (and not just my 10 year old). 

Andrea

The fear of opening up your own business

I wouldn't necessarily call it fear, more complete and utter ignorance. Everyone dreams of owning their own business, whether it’s the flexibility of working out of the local coffee joint, or flying from city to city consulting big business on whatever sh!t of the bull they need consulting on. Whatever the case, you really have NO idea what’s ahead of you (unless you’re a complete genius with a side of savvy). I just knew I didn’t want to go back to the the 9-5 job I had before I had kids. Always worrying what kind of mood your boss would be in (god they are moody), hoping that undeserved promotion would finally come your way and/or sitting next to the over-perfumed, way too chatty, LOUD office mate (and if I just described you…sorry, you had to know the truth). It’s so hard being perfect. Anyway, the thought of going back to all that tomfoolery wasn’t appealing to me at all. My department (and hence position) was moved to the US, so I was let go from my first and only job I had since University. I worked for a HUGE company (probably the bigGEst in the world back then) so when it all ended I was devastated. Made lemonade out of sour grapes…and stayed home with my kids from that day on. Looking back, it was the BEST thing that’s ever happened to me (for obvs reasons). 

Once my kids got older, I dabbled in a little marketing consulting, sold Silpada jewellery (was in the top 10 sales in Canada for a while - sorry, had to get that in) and was a retail rep for Kobo (worked out of my car – I loved the product, but the day to day store visits were very monotonous). A total mix bag of  jobs. My husband was so patient and never pushed me to get back to work (or what he called a “real” job), until my days eventually turned into going to the gym, followed up by getting groceries (I should have had the body of a goddess, boy was that not the case). I was in denial. I knew I had to get back to doing something more fulfilling with my time, but didn’t know what. 

So circle back to not wanting a 9-5 job. My friend (and now business partner) was in the same boat. We kept dreaming up businesses we could open, but like most people, didn’t think we could actually do it. We did keep coming back to one idea in particular, buying and selling second hand clothes (brand names of course, a bit higher end). All of us moms knew that most consignment stores and second hand sellers focus on newborns to about age 10. But what about the tweens and teens? That was certainly a niche market, right? I was once given advice that the more “niche” you are the more you will succeed. Cut to a walk I was on with a girlfriend (not sure if it was before the gym or after the groceries). We spoke about this venture at great lengths and I will always remember what she said to me “Why wouldn’t you do it?”. I didn’t have an answer. Well, I guess I did, in the end, as it propelled me to where I am today. 

We all think we’re not smart enough, or don’t know where to begin, or don’t want to risk failing. Who wants to try and fail? The excuses are endless. I remember reading a quote (was it on Facebook? Am I really admitting that?) - Doubt kills more dreams than failure ever will. Bam! That is totally 99% of the people who want to one day work for themselves. We were determined to be part of that 1% who actually follows through. We bit the bullet, starting buying second hand, brand name clothes, got a website together (www.stylecrush.com), had a logo designed, and here we are, a full fledged, incorporated business. Mostly flying by the seat of our pants but Loving.Every.Minute.Of.It. It only took me 20 years to figure it out. But the point is I did, and I’m here. Blogging, on social media, writing, advertising, networking, all things I only dreamed of doing one day. So the question is “Why aren’t you doing it?” Seriously, why? You just keep coming up with excuses…go on, keep excuse-ing, we’ll be here, working on our business. 

Andrea