Working Mother, Part II

After spending four years singing the praises of staying home with the kids to anyone who would listen (and many who wouldn't) I have taken a job.
Oh, you would have too if you heard the job offer. Stay home most of the time, do the stuff you already do (write about deals and saving money), then once a week take the El downtown and sit in a cubicle to write something to be published in the newspaper.
You know, the major newspaper of your region. The bankrupt one. Not to name names.
I must say my mind is quite blown by this development. Here's how it happend:
Two years ago and a couple of months, Epu and I looked at each other and said, "Should we have another baby?"
I said, "I'd like to, except that if we do, I'll be 40 by the time that baby goes to kindergarten and I don't want to be only re-entering the workforce at 40, 10 years after I first went part-time."
But, you know. Babies. They're so cute and I always like to try everything that's available and I hadn't tried this "parenting a son" thing. I decided that we'd have another baby but I'd start working part time if possible and get a sitter.
We rolled the dice, came up with an X and a Y, and didn't have to carry out our secret "accidentally lose the third daughter at Six Flags plan."
(That's just a joke. You know I'm not a good planner, and Epu is even worse.)
By the time I got pregnant, around this time two years ago, I was already writing my frugal blog at that time, and making a tiny bit of money on the side writing for Wise Bread.
A few months later, the opportunity came along to become one of the first bloggers on the on this new blog network, writing about deals and cheapskatism.
That led to an opportunity to interview for a full-time job, for which I was seriously considered but didn't get. I breathed a sigh of relief because although the job sounded extremely interesting, I didn't really want to leave the kids to a caregiver all day, five days a week.
Then, I heard that I was being considered for a different job. A part-time job, doing something like what I was already doing. Rumblings about this potential job continued throughout the summer. In the past couple of months, my blog, Frugalista, finally started to bring in some decent money.
Exhausted from trying to work part-time from home with only a few hours a week of drop-in daycare time, I used that money to hire an afternoon babysitter/mother's helper. I figured, either this job comes through or I keep building up my blog -- either way, I'm gonna find a way to keep paying this amazing lady who does my laundry and lights up Pebbles' face when she walks in the door.
Then, two weeks ago, the job came through. Monday, I showed up at the office and had a horrible photo taken for my new entry badge.
Boom, I'm a working mother. Well, part time. And so far very little has changed except that one visit downtown. Things are still coming together.
When I got links, I'll share 'em.

P.S. Unrelated: Continuing her obsession with death, Pebbles informed Nutmeg and me last night that the reason our wood floors are rough is because a lady died here. When faced with incredulity, she conceded that this was not strictly true. A lady died just outside the house. Thanks for clearing that up, Pebbles. And no, Detective Google doesn't turn up any such death.