Tuesday, January 1, 2019

A Bitchy Bookkeeper New Year



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Hello, Bitchy readers. Can I call you that? 

I’m going to. You are reading the Bitchy Bookkeeper blog after all. I’m even going to capitalize the B to make it official. 

Welcome to 2019. I just woke up. It’s 9 in the morning-although it won't be by the time you read this. 

I hope you got to celebrate the way you wanted to and if not, I think we probably ended with the same feeling.

Ready for bed.

January 1st. Rent is due, resolutions written down on a napkin are waiting to be kept and broken. I paid my rent a day early. My resolution is really a renewed sense of purpose. Mostly to do with this blog and building an awesome audience. 

The sun is streaming through my bedroom bay window and I’m propped up on a fluffy body pillow. I will write this draft on my iPhone and then go edit on my laptop in my office down the hall. There, that’s my writing process. 

I have many thoughts in my head but will pick 3.
  • A NYE ritual that inspires my overall year
  • A disturbing account from a mother who feels soul crushing emptiness 
  • Recapping my best money decision and my favorite childfree experience of the past year.

My New Year's Eve Ritual 
NYE 2014, my boyfriend at the time was hosting a small party for friends who had no other plans. I was there and bored out of my mind.  I decided that from then on, I would spend NYE doing what I wanted to do. 

I read somewhere that how you ring in the new year sets the tone for the 12 months ahead. I decided to take it to heart. Regardless of the outcome, at least I could feel a bit in control. 

Every year since then, I make an effort to spend the final day of the year doing whatever has my interest. The evening involves food, a nice glass of Prosecco and a very long journal entry and sometimes a kiss at midnight with another human being. Not every year but sometimes. This year, no kiss. 

December 31, 2018 was the first time I wanted to stay home. Not run off to a hotel suite in the mountains or to a friend's house or attend a Masquerade Ball. I've already done that. Enjoyed it. New experience. 

The lovely townhouse I currently call home gave me the perfect ending to the year. I woke up feeling rested. I had spent the previous day writing and publishing on various other sites I use and I awoke to great response. That's not always the case but this morning it was. I wrote a bit more, danced to music from the 1950's and staged my house like it was about to be featured in Town & Country magazine-which is all about elegant living.  

I found a comfortable yet glitzy pink tunic dress I bought in Vegas to wear for my evening in. I curled my hair and played around with gold highlighter and rose gold eye shadow. My makeup collection is quite expensive and unnecessary but it's all in fun. 

The evening was relaxing, a lot of writing, I made pizza and mashed potatoes and watched one of my favorite movies-"Sabrina" with Harrison Ford. I discovered plot holes I somehow missed over the 22 years I've repeatedly watched. Like the garden birthday party scene, there is a prominent saxophone being played and yet the orchestra is made up of stringed instruments. 

There was a lot of texting "Happy New Year" and for about 30 minutes, I wondered if I had made a mistake by not going out. Then that feeling passed as I began to write down what I want to accomplish with this blog and other writing ventures. 

I remembered to turn on the TV in time to watch the local countdown and see the fireworks. I raised my glass-quarter filled with Prosecco as alcohol effects me horribly these days. I admit I felt a bit teary eyed at saying goodbye to such an incredible year and then it was all over. 

" OK, back to work" I said as I finished my list of blog post ideas. 

I was asleep by 1 in the morning. 


The Soul Crushing Confession From a Mother

An article showed up on my Facebook feed about the stages of parenthood. I skimmed it and went to the comments because the comments are where the magic happens. (Feel free to comment at the end of this post.)

One mother wrote of how empty her life is now that her children are grown. 

Another woman wrote how God gives you grandchildren to fill the void. A lot of weeping and wailing about children becoming independent and how wonderful it would be to turn back the clock. 

Some mothers shared how they gave birth to children with special needs and how this requires a lifetime of care. Their children would not grow to lead independent lives so the mothers who do have independent children should be grateful. 

Another person commented how she was suppressed in every way by her own mother until said mother realized that children are their own unique person. This mother only realized it long after her daughter had left home. 

This, Bitchy readers, is what fuels my sense of purpose in writing about my choice to not have children. 

All I have wanted in my life is to express myself. By golly, aside from giving myself a wonderful home life without pets or children, expressing myself in a way that satisfies my soul and entertains some people is the greatest joy of my life. 

In my experience, the people who cling tightly to their parental identity are the ones who object to my choice to be childfree. When you interact with someone who has an opposing view, it's easy to shut down and protect what you have so carefully cultivated for yourself. 

Any non parent knows the feeling when someone with a new baby is all warm and fuzzy or posting family photos in matching pajamas. It makes you think. 


Who says we-non parents- shouldn't live as openly and proudly as our parental counterparts? Happiness is relative and an inside job. 

I have a natural urge to be independent and nobody objects to the way I live my life-at least to my face. Chances are, the more readers I get, the more chance I have to face objection. That's OK. I want to have this conversation with people.

As a young girl, I knew that I didn't want to grow up to be like the women I saw around me. Mothers. I didn't want to spend my life raising kids. I didn't want to wait until 60 to find my hobbies and passion and enjoy freedom. I didn't yet know I had a choice in the matter because no one told me I did. 

I remember knowing older women who, when their husbands died, had no clue on how to handle anything. Insurance, the estate, banking. All the daily decisions one needs to make to run a household. A lot has changed since then, but I do have readers who come from cultures where this isn't the case. 

I think about the people in my life who are parents. Some of them chose parenthood, for others it was unplanned and they have adapted to the role. There are some who are desperate to have kids but the circumstances are not in their favor. 

Why do we do or want anything in life? 

We want to feel love. We want to feel secure. We want to feel safe. We want to matter.

For some people, children are the only way they can create something of their own. I used to say to people that I came here to create music not children. 

Right now, I create using words. So much of my day is spent expressing myself that when I’ve finished, I need a good meal and a few hours enjoying my surroundings. My interests are always evolving. There is no shortage of ideas or curiosity. 

I don’t feel lonely, if I get restless I pick up a pen. 

My Best Use of Money in 2018
This lovely townhouse I live in. Hands down. I traveled a lot and got a brand new vehicle last year but this place I call home right now, is absolutely the perfect place for me to be. To be myself, to actively work on my goals without feeling judged or negative. Anything is possible when I'm at home. 

My Best Childfree moment in 2018
I was on my way home from a fall road trip and stopped in at a hot springs to soak for awhile. I started chatting with some of the other patrons and one conversation led to another. There was a lovely woman who also didn't want to have kids and so we chatted for a long time about our lives and feelings about this subject. Very rare to come across, as you childfree people know. It was awesome and a much needed interaction. 

Which reminds me, I need to send her an email. 


With that, Bitchy readers, I sign off. Hope you have a great day. 


Sincerely, 

LeNora Faye
Bitchy Bookkeeper
Almost an Author
Former Fantastic Violinist

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