All About Women

*I apologize for the length of this post sans pictures. Mostly it's just for my memory purposes. If you don't care to read all the way through, I totally get that.

Last week I had the privilege of not only attending, but being a part of, Women's Conference at BYU. I had been asked by a good friend and bowling buddy to help with the service project part of the conference. Being the giver that I am, I was anxious to help.

Let me say that I have never expressed any interest in Women's Conference. It's not something I would ever do on my own. It's just not my personality to want to better myself, or become more prepared. How can one improve upon perfection? Now if they offered a class in awesomeness, I would totally take that class. Are you sensing my sarcasm here? Because I want that to be abundantly clear. Okay.

So we had agreed to help with the Newborn Kits part of the Service Project, and attended meetings to prepare us for the work ahead. The humanitarian center people kept reminding us that it would seem a daunting task, but the women would come, and we would prepare adequate amounts of kits. We trusted them.

So Wednesday night, we headed to BYU to prepare our stations. We assembled 1,000,000 boxes. Okay, I might be exaggerating there, but it seemed like a million. I think it was somewhere around 5,000. Each box we assembled was to hold 8 newborn kits. You do the math. That's a lot of newborns getting needed supplies. We worked hard all night getting prepped. Around 10:00 we headed home, exhausted and bruised.

Thursday morning we woke up early to head to the conference. One benefit of being a volunteer is a free admission to the whole conference, so we thought we should take advantage of a few of the speakers. The first class I attended was called "Rising Above Depression". Although I remain medicated, I still struggle with symptoms of depression, and I thought this might be a good way to get a new outlook on treatment. The first speaker was excellent. She spoke about her lifelong struggle with her own depression, and even though she is well-educated, most of her life went by as if she was in a fog. That really resonated with me. She didn't get treatment and medication for her depression until her late 30's, and now she knows how hard it can be to overcome. Her thoughts were very practical; medication, therapy and a strong support group are all essential to overcome depression. The second speaker wasn't my favorite. She basically summed up her talk by saying if you're more grateful, serve more, and pray more you won't be depressed. Um, yeah, that doesn't always work. So I got a good 50% uplift out of that class.

The next class was about ordinary women doing extraordinary things. It was great. The first speaker was eh, not great, but the second speaker was phenomenal! I could have listened to her for the whole hour. I wish I was more versed in who I should and shouldn't try to fit into the packed class schedule, but next time I go, I'll definitely look her up.

That night we had the actual service project. We gathered at 4:00 for a team meeting and final preparations. The project was slated to begin at 5:00. 5:30 rolls around, and we're barely finding enough women to staff 1 station. We had 6 prepared. It wasn't looking good. I was so afraid that we'd be stuck filling all those kits on our own. But sure enough, just like the humanitarian center people promised, the women came, and before we knew it, the place was emptied out. If you want to see a great slideshow, including a rather unnerving close-up of yours truly, you can see it here. It really shows the scope of the project.

We ended the night exhausted, but very fulfilled. Honestly, I think I got more uplift from doing the service project than I did from the classes. There's just something about working physically hard, and going to bed completely beat, but knowing you've made such a difference, that makes you feel closer to God.

I'm so grateful to Tammis for asking me to be one of her helpers. I know that I was lead to be on her bowling team so this could all come about, and not just for this purpose. Tammis and Calleen have become very close friends of mine that I might otherwise never have had the pleasure of knowing. They are strong women who make me want to be better. I'll have a good bowling post coming up soon, so you'll want to stay tuned for that.

Buy Local

As a small (very small) business owner, I have first-hand knowledge of how important it is to buy locally. I've taken to spending more money in small one-man-band sort of shops rather than Wal-Mart, though I do still have a love-hate relationship with the Mart. I hope the shop owners appreciate this, because I know I sure appreciate the clients that bypass the various chain hair chop shops to come and see me, and keep me in business.

So in this vein, I decided when it came time to order new business cards, I would get away from the generic Vistaprint cards I've used in the past, and try a local gal that does great work. She has designed my sisters baby announcements, (the pictures came from here, she's my cousin, and very talented. Seriously, click those links, you won't be disappointed, I promise.) and she has always done a wonderful job. Plus, then I don't end up with the exact same business cards as two other gals in my shop. True story. Lame.

These are the finished product. I love them. They are cute, but not cutesy. Fun, but not immature. And this time they have all the correct information on them. My Vistaprint cards were ordered before the website, and before I had a physical address I wanted to advertise. These are much better.

So remember, there is always someone you know that has a talent they are trying to pursue. Or they know someone that knows someone. It never hurts to ask around before hopping online and becoming a number in a queue of thousands of faceless customers. Keep it local. Keep it small. And keep a business in business.

Props

I'm exhausted. My feet hurt, my ribs hurt, and my back is sore. I had to work (dramatic tone, here) all day.

Insert tiny violins here.

Don't get me wrong, I love working. I love my job so much! I look forward to each and every day. Knowing that I have a talent to make people feel good about themselves really gets me going.

But how do you full time working moms do it?

Because I'm exhausted.

I did have the pleasure of coming home to a prepared dinner and a clean house and folded laundry and even clean sheets. So I didn't have to do much except load the dishwasher. How spoiled am I? I know I couldn't do it alone.

So to all you working moms out there, props to you. You have my respect for sure.

A Lot Can Happen When You Let It

It's been a year since this post. A year that has flown by. So much has changed since I wrote that post. So much around me, and so much inside me. I shudder to think what my life would be like now, had things not taken such a drastic turn.

Sean has a year and a half of school under his belt, and a scholarship awaiting him at the U. We started a business, and have been plugging away at actually making it work. It is. I started homeschooling Maggie, probably one of the best decisions I've made as a parent. We have a whole new appreciation for all types of assistance; family, church, government, and so on. The sacrifices we are making now are for a bigger pay off in the end, and I know we have the gumption to do it.

I see how smart Sean is, and I see how his mind wasn't being put to its full potential at his job. I see how he can excel at anything he chooses, and I know in my heart of hearts that he will be very successful and happy with whatever road he chooses. I'm content to be a working mom, a homeschooling mom, and a crazy mom, for a while, because I know my family is benefiting more than they would if we were just to be mediocre at something else.

I'm not gonna lie, I miss the money. It's still hard to not buy the kids something they want, or to not go out to eat because we can't afford it. Saying "we can't afford it" still tastes like vinegar when it comes out, but it's getting easier. I miss the perks. The Cubs games, the Bulls games, the trailer, the big house, the vacations, and the ease of not worrying about where the next paycheck was coming from. But I feel far more fulfilled now, so I guess that's saying something. I know this is part of the plan for us, and I know it will work. Sometimes life is hard, but sometimes it's easy. Either way, it keeps coming around.

I'm so glad we were given this trial. We have had a lot happen that would never have happened otherwise, and we're better people for it. I guess that's a good thing.

Tanorexia

I have a confession to make. I've been tanning lately. Like, not a ton, but I'll visit the old cancer bed every week or so, mostly just to get warm. I know, it's bad, but I can't help it.

I'm freezing. All. The. Time.

And it's only November.

I'm not going to handle this winter well, I can tell, and I should be so grateful, since it's not the bone chilling sub zero kind of winter you get in Illinois. But still, I'm so cold! I've had my thyroid checked, and yeah, it's off, but I can only take so many pills each day, so those are usually the ones that get left behind. I know if I took them more regularly, I wouldn't be so cold all the time, but they don't help that much, so it's not a big deal.

Also, I like the little bronze sheen I'm getting as a bonus from the tanning bed. I can't complain about that.

One thing I don't like, is the biotch that works at the tanning salon. She's there every time I go in. I'm very pleasant with her. She is not. She won't make eye contact, and she acts like I'm totally putting her out when I show up. She has the requisite bleachy blond hair, and super leathery skin, along with what I can only assume are collagen fillers in her lips, because you think Lisa Rinna's old lip was bad? This girl puts her to shame. I call her a typical Tanorexic.

I'm not turning into one those, I assure you, I'm merely seeking warmth, but I can certainly see how the tanorexia can take over, and before you know it, your jonesing for a hit of UV, and getting the withdrawals from artificial face plumper.

Turns Out, I'm Not That Smart

You know, my perspective on a lot of things has changed over the last year. I have a whole new appreciation for so many things I always took for granted before. One thing I've really found myself pondering on lately is how easy other people make things look.

Other people make being full time students look easy.

It's not. Sean is doing a lot of homework these days, and by a lot I mean an hour or so a week, which for him is a lot. Trust me, it is. I know it will get more difficult and time consuming as he advances the ranks of education, but for now it's a weird transition to see him home at 2:00 in the afternoon.

Other people make running a business look easy.

It's not. I've been learning QuickBooks, of which I'm not really a fan. I like the idea of QB, but it's really quite cumbersome. And by cumbersome, I mean it doesn't translate information directly from my brain to a neat, user-friendly spreadsheet, with nary a keystroke. See? Cumbersome.

Other people make being smart look easy.

It's not. I've always thought I'm pretty smart. I know a lot of crap. Useless, brain space hogging, annoying to most people kind of crap. I do a lot of stuff. Mostly half-assed, but stuff nonetheless. I can write a coherent sentence, do basic math, carry on a decent conversation, and even make people laugh. Although maybe that's not smarts. Hmm.

I think as my perspective on life has changed, my perspective on myself is changing. I guess that would seem a natural conversion. But as I go on about this little life of mine, I'm realizing I still have so much to learn. It's a little frustrating, but if I can keep a good attitude it makes it a little easier. I just need to keep myself from sabotaging myself. Be more optimistic instead of a pessimist so much of the time. Understand that things come gradually, not all at once. I hope I can be smart enough to wait it out.

Working With It

Yesterday was spent shopping at the Beauty Supply, which I love, and hitting Wal-Mart for a pair of cheap black pants and some trouser socks. Does anyone else seem to lose socks during the summer? I do. I'll have a whole bunch of new ones for winter, and by the time the end of summer comes along, after those months of wearing nothing on my feet but flip-flops, the socks have disappeared into thin air. Weird. But I digress. I had to hit the Beauty Supply for last minute supplies for the salon. Which brings me to...

...Yesterday I also went to work. At my new place. Yippee! It was a pretty big deal, at least for me. I like the new place. It's cute and friendly, and I have lots of room to grow. Maggie doesn't like it. She says it's too big, and the necklaces are too expensive. (?) That kid cracks me up.

It did feel pretty good to be back in an upscale salon atmosphere after these last few months of my "Steel Magnolia's" place. I miss the intense one-on-one thing, but I do like the camaraderie of having lots of stylists and clients about the place. I like working, I always have. I think I'll like this new gig. I know I can do great things with it if I keep a good attitude and try not to let the business end get me down. Sometimes it takes a good leap to get you off the ground, right? Right. And I can definitely work with that.

Feel free to click over to the new website (props to Mike for working on it!), and schedule an appointment online. Yes, I have entered the latest century. You can honestly book appointments without even calling or texting. Amazing, I know. Go ahead, try it.

Working Girl

I have 2 jobs now. Well, 3 if you count being a wife and mother and superhero. Wait, that's like, um, 5? I don't know, I don't do math. But I write for Examiner.com, as you all know, and in addition to all those other things, I have a job that actually pays me money! I know, it's this new fangled idear. I mean I guess one of us parents should be working, right?

So I'm officially a salon owner. It's called The Back Porch ( blog, prices, and before and after pictures coming soon), and it's a cute little salon in Riverton. I do it all. Cuts, colors of all kinds, waxing, and even a perm (if you're stuck in 1990, in which case I'll probably talk you into some other hair style because those kinds of perms are just nasty), if you're lucky.

So feel free to email me at thebackporchsalon@gmail.com, or my usual email, keli.clayton@gmail.com, and we'll set you up for a day o' beauty.

I Write

Well, it's official people. I'm a working gal. After exploring many, many avenues of what I would like to be when I grow up, I've decided to try something new. Again. This time, though, I can do it from home, I can express my opinion freely, and I get paid. Okay, so it's pretty much like a blog, only with a paycheck. But still, there's a paycheck. Did I mention that part yet? Seriously, getting paid to speak my mind is like, well, like getting paid to pee. I mean, we all know it's going to happen so why not make a little money at it?

Anyway, like I said in the email I sent out to my family yesterday, you can see the article here. Please, please tell me what you think. And be honest. And if you don't like it, then you can stick it.