Colour Me Happy! – By Brandi Hofer Studios
The Power in Saying "No" - With Professional Editor Stephanie Carbajal
What does it take to be a Woman?
Tune in this week as we sit down with Professional Editor Stephanie Carbajal about transitioning from a full-time position to freelance. Stephanie coaches us on how to say “no” in a professional manner. And How letting go of the 9-5 it allows us more freedom and power in the season of motherhood.
What does it take to be a woman? Sometimes… I don’t want to think about it. Because everything that is included in being a woman is, well... everything all at once (yes, that is a movie title 😉).
I wander around my house, mulling about. Staring at the piles of toys scattered in each section of my home, ignoring the pull to gather it all up and put it away. Grabbing a half eaten muffin off the counter and shoving it in my mouth. Chewing in contemplation – that not only one but all 3 of my children had a full out meltdown before getting out the door at 8:15 this morning.
Here she is. Labelled as “Mother” and “Wife”. Knowing what she “should” do. Tame the beasts. The ringleader to a never ending circus. Where the days amalgamate together, the days where she doesn’t know if she will be shovelling elephant shit, be attacked by the bear or having her hands almost taken off by the lion. The audience yells at her to: clean her home, make 3 delicious meals a day, have a career, teach these children, wear the perfect hair, have a round yet fit physique, have ravenous perfect sex with her partner, attend all the things, take the kids to their countless events, wave and smile like everything is always OKAY. It’s not. Not always. There are days where she can meet these unmaintainable expectations.
I blink my eyes coming back to my kitchen.
Today is not that day.
I chew on my muffin. Look down at my leggings with the holes and the paint, the leggings I’ve worn since the birth of my first child, because nothing beats cotton. I throw my hood over the my head of my oversized sweater, loving the comfort that it gives me. I slip on my moccasins and walk over the crumbs. Vacuuming seems like sweeping sand at the beach. I don’t want to do it. All of it. Maybe tomorrow.
Maybe my next book should be titled: “I’m so fucking tired”.
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