Working from home

I was up at 3AM this morning and it wasn't insomnia. I had fallen asleep on the recliner in our family room the night before and finally managed to slide off it and head to bed around 2:58AM. When I finally got upstairs—counting, not seeing steps—and before I could feel too sorry for my aching bones, I was reminded that my wife, Alicia had been awake since 1AM by the sight of her sitting before her computer under the warm glow of a nearby lamp. 

She's not a night owl. She was working.

A number of weeks ago a friend of ours passed on some info about what looked to be a temporary but legitimate work from home opportunity. A little research found my wife at an application for the assignment and an evaluation of her home network. We were of course very cautious as we've seen the multitude of overbearing emails touting the greatest employment opportunity on the planet right before they ask for a major credit card number. There was no such touting. Instead, there were a lot of checks and rechecks and tests on behalf of the firm to make sure the Internet connection, home computer equipment and, to some extent, Alicia qualified for the assignment. Everything (and Alicia) passed the series of inspections and she was given a start date. 

We certainly need the additional revenue stream. Sometimes it's hard to get that stream flowing since every opportunity has a cost associated with it which often negates any monetary gain. But working from home is a major problem solver. So much so that it baffles me as to why more companies aren't fully embracing the working arrangement. 

All too often I hear about supervisors, managers, directors, even executives who don't like the idea of employees working from home, subsequently barring employees under their charge from partaking in any such program or policy. They excuse themselves with claims of being 'old fashioned,' like that's an honorable badge giving pass to their narrow views. Here in Atlanta, considering the ever growing concern for traffic and its negative environmental affects, there should be but a handful of companies that disallow some significant portion of their employee body's ability to work from home on a regular—if not full time—basis. 

Can you tell I've had an unpleasant brush against this issue in my past?

Seriously, the family time that is gained from not having to submit to a pointless one and a half to two hour commute (that's one way, by the way) is priceless. And if companies are more concerned about their bottom line than the health and wellbeing of their employees, then the number of productive hours a manager wins back from not having to do the ride or drive should be considered. However it's examined, there are more valuable pros to the work from home arrangement than should be superseded by a badge on the chest of a dying breed. 

Breathe, Ralston. Breathe.

She is a thing of love

I admire my daughter, Cadence, for a lot of reasons. I don’t do enough to tell her of how inspiring her energy can be sometimes. All too often, I let the challenges of my day get in the way of sharing a little of that youthfulness she exudes without effort.

But we have our good times.

A couple times a week, Cadence and I will retreat to our big, empty living room and engage in a friendly (but competitive) game of kick-dodge ball. It would look like child abuse to anyone peaking in our window. I stand at one end of the room and she at the other, and with our feet and hands we launch rubber spheres of various sizes at one another. These can be anything from those small foam stress balls, to our medium-sized purple cloud Wal-Mart ball, to the grandest of all, Mommy’s full-sized white Polities ball. Oh, yeah! That'll strait knock the focus out of ya. It is a blast of a time, great exercise, and pretty frequently played throughout the week—especially on Saturdays. But we could play it more.

Cadence is great at a number of things. She’s been a computer user since she was about 2-years-old. She completed a ballet class last year and gave a great performance before an audience of about 2,000. She loves to read—and is pretty darn good at it if I do say so myself. And she can draw up a storm on any parchment lying around the house—whether it's meant to be drawn on or not.

Recently, I noticed that she’s also pretty good with an impromptu song. She can make up a song about lots of things while stringing together a fairly cleaver set of rhyming words to tell her story. I tried to explain to her the other day that people actually get paid for doing that. She promptly turned her attention to something of greater interest and I let the matter drop. I just don’t know sometimes what’ll swim and what’ll sink when it comes to her interests and my introduction of new ideas. But I know it’s important that I affirm and encourage her, and that she is aware of that encouragement.

Really, I just love her little heart, spirit, mind and all. I want to sit her still for a minute or two and tell her just how much I admire her. She’s got to be the coolest little kid I’ve ever known. Thinking about it, there’s really nothing stopping me from telling her just that.

So I will. And more often, too.

Church, sometimes had at home.

There was an entirely different intention going into this Sunday morning. My wife and I wanted to be sure to head to Church today if for no other reason than because we've missed a couple services in the weeks past. It's a great, comfortable, community minded, youthful sort of Church and we're starting to miss the lessons. But our plans of getting ourselves and our two kids ready were laid to rest as the morning unfolded. 

Our daughter has a rather full head of hair that just so happened to need re-braiding before we went out in public at all. She began to look as though a giant, black fuzzy spider had attached itself to her head. This meant work for my wife, lots of work. Then there was me, who for some reason couldn't get out of bed. Okay, I totally stayed up too late last night playing Xbox and watching movies, but that's besides the point. Our son was oddly the least of our troubles as he napped a little longer than usual while my wife worked overtime on our daughter's hair. 

Needless to say, we didn't make it. We certainly could have (and should have) done better preparing ourselves this morning to not only make it to Church, but make it on time for a change. But I didn't beat up myself about it like I usually would after a failed mission. I felt God wanted us to gather together and fellowship in his name this morning, but remembered that no love is lost because we miss a Sunday or two. Still, I regretted not getting out to the service. 

Now, in our home we can easily go a whole day with three out of four of us spending hours at a time in different parts of the house, engaged in different activities. But not this morning. For some reason, we were drawn together and ended up spending a great portion of the latter half of the morning and early afternoon laughing, playing, gaming, eating, and drawing together. It was natural, nurturing and memorable. 

In my mind, it was Church.

I think that, while blessed and holy the building that holds the congregation that gathers together on Sunday and throughout the week, the people themselves are the Church and they bring Christ with them to the building. Throughout the bible we are taught that, when we accept Him, Jesus resides in our hearts. Our hearts, not our buildings. 

So when a day like today comes along, and the best laid plans go awry, I'll keep the school of thought that the gathering and togetherness of my little congregation of four is too considered Church. 

And Church is sometimes had at home. 

Vacation? What's the point?!

Now and then I have one of those sort of days. The kind that makes your mind escape to the thought of getting away from it all. No overgrown lawn, no pesky computer problems, no unrealistic deadlines, no traffic jam. Just you, the sun, a warm breeze and the laughter of your family around you. A good string of days that make all but forgotten the pile of poop waiting for you to come back with the shovel.

All but forgotten (i.e. not actually forgotten).

I struggled for years with the idea of taking a vacation. Initially, my wife and I just couldn't afford it so that would settle any debate on whether or not we should. But even in those times, I had this notion of vacations being pointless. I suppose that stems from not growing up taking annual vacations with the family. So, as I grew older I began to consider the concept of vacationing.

The sum of my understanding was that vacations often served as the temporary release valve for the mounting pressures of adulthood. Families would pile into the car, or board a plane, or whatever and wave good riddance to a normal existence for a week or so of adventurous good times.

As I examined this, still not having taken a vacation myself, I realized that my problem with the whole idea of getting away for a while was...well the "getting away for a while" part.

It just seemed as though people went on vacation to escape life for a few days—which is fine and all, but don't they have to come back? And when they return, won't said pile of poop just be sitting there in the front yard awaiting their return? Then what's the point of that?!

I asked myself (and my wife) that question up until we took our very first bonafide family vacation in mid 2007. We strapped our then 4-year-old daughter into her car seat in our cool PT Cruiser and went road-tripin' from Atlanta to Orlando for about a week. The time together was awesome and it totally altered my perspective.

Turns out there's nothing wrong with the concept of stepping back from a set of stubborn problems to take a little breather. I realized that I do it all the time at home and at work. A vacation is just a slightly larger step back for a slightly deeper breather in unison with loved ones who may actually need the same temporary relief from their own various pressures.

Sure there will likely be the same bit of junk awaiting your return. But within reason, I now say let it wait because, to the point of a vacation, relief—however temporary—helps win back a clearer, sharper mind to deal with it all when you get home again.

Besides, a little poop is good for the lawn.