August 08, 2016

Adjusting to a lack of luxury

Going back to work after an extended maternity leave has been, predictably, an adjustment. I've been faced with the extra adjustments of not only being off work for 13+ months, but going back to a new job, in a new office, while pretending that I'm not in the throes of first trimester life sickness and exhaustion.

There's definitely something to be said about taking a short maternity leave. I imagine those mothers (I'm looking at you, Americans) that are only allowed a handful of weeks to recover from the chaos of childbirth actually have, in some respects, an easier time adjusting to the return to work.

Whereas I'm coming off 13 months of the leisurely stay at home life, those six-week-return-to-work-moms never really got to dig into the glorious routine that is the non-newborn. Whereas I could (attempt to) make homemade bread for our dinner during afternoon naptime and got used to the life of one nap housework one nap me-time, those six-weekers might still have babies that don't know the difference between night and day. They could still be ripped and torn in unspeakable places and leaking through their shirts every two and a half hours and so sleep deprived they can't remember their baby's birthday and back to work they go. Well they've kind of got it going on, because they don't know what they're missing. Now that I'm back at work, I know, and the struggle is real.

I only work part time so you'd think I'd have it going on, but really I don't. I may get home with time to put Parker down for an afternoon nap depending on what daycare did that day, but gone are the days of simple "me" time. No, I come home and nap (which I'm mostly done with) or look at my disgusting house and cry because I'm too tired to clean it. And it's only 4 p.m.

I found a frozen bag of soup in the freezer today and almost wept with joy. It's not enough to feed all of us, but with some noodles thrown in there and maybe some french fries on the side (french bread would be ideal, but I hear making that involves more than turning the oven on and opening a bag) we can almost pretend that I'm back on the homemaking train. (Side note: I put too many noodles in the soup. It now looks like the world's saddest tomato sauce.)

One of the biggest joys of going back to work with a 13 month old, though, was that I was ready. All maternity leaves should be 13 months instead of 12 (sorry, Americans) because beautiful little babies turn into socially inept little toddlers at 13 months. All of a sudden they realize that it isn't their duty to be sweet little things, and that they are the rulers of one and all. Basically, Parker needed daycare and to hang out with other kids and I needed a break from the hair pulling.

It's definitely been an adjustment going back to a regular person lifestyle, but there's a glorious silver lining at the end of it: come early 2017 I get to start my life of stay at home luxury all over again. Because two should be easier than one, right?

June 20, 2016

Free hugs.

I woke up yesterday morning with pink eye. So good, right? If Parker hadn't had it last week I would be so humiliated I'd hide my head under my incredibly infected pillow and never come out because of all the shame. What kind of 27 year old gets pink eye? I know how hygiene works, I swear

So that's been fun.

My sore throat from last week morphed into a full fledged day of aches and moaning, followed by an extra strength headache due to lack of hydration from pain of swallowing. I also got into a fight with our glass door and have a 3" long gouge on my heel and got blood on my TOMS. Then, just to be more fun, I got the hacking cough from hell that only appears when I'm trying to sleep, or occasionally breathe like a normal person.

Do you know what happens when you go to the clinic and have an inconvenient sporadic hacking cough? You get to wear a SARS mask and people move away from you like you have the plague. Do you also know what happens with pink eye when you cough a lot? It oozes. Basically what I'm saying is, I made a lot of friends yesterday and strangers kept asking me for hugs.

On the plus side, aside from being a germ-ridden freak, good things have happened, too. I've had a couple interviews, had a couple job opportunities come up, and have accepted a part time position. I also came to an agreement with my former employer as to what a fair severance settlement looks like, and it was remarkably painless. Thank you, Jesus.

I dread the prospect of having to brush my hair and put on pants every day, but I'm really looking forward to sending Parker to daycare so he can realize he isn't the king of the castle all the time. I'm also looking forward to getting off at 3, like some sort of high school kid. Cha ching.

I'm going to go throw out my pillow now and burn all my makeup.

June 11, 2016

I think the baby broke.

We went home to Victoria a month ago and it broke Parker. He'd never made strange in his life until then, and it was the beginning of a mommy-clinging stage. At first the snuggles were wonderful, as he actually fell asleep in my arms one day for the first time in months. Then it just got ridiculous. I couldn't leave his sight to refill his water during mealtimes or he'd start screaming bloody murder.

And now. Oh, now. Somehow my perfectly behaved child has become a screaming dictator that will not give either of his parents permission to use the bathroom alone, and they must both be present otherwise the screaming will take place. (In case you're wondering, we let him scream. Bathroom breaks do not need to become a full family affair.)

I realized yesterday that my beautiful baby is now a raging non-toddling toddler. full of sass and ideas about how the world should work. I also realized that suddenly we've gotten into that terrifying stage of parenthood where we need to teach our kiddo not to be a spoiled raging beast when things don't go exactly as planned. I'm not ready!

My house sounds like a baby torture chamber today because I've decided that, like the United States of America, I will not give into terrorists.Especially not terrorists that prefer snuggles with their father and scream when their mother cuddles them at the wrong moments. I will, however, give in to coffee and cookies for breakfast, and probably a bubble bath just because. Karl's working today, Parker cut four teeth in the last couple weeks and had an eye infection this week, he became a diva, and I'm getting a sore throat. I've also run out of ideas of shows to watch on Netflix and the next audiobook in the series I'm listening to is on hold at the library. Basically life is over and we're all going to die.

Just kidding, it's almost nap time. My son may be a raging dictator of a one year old, but at least he still naps. Thank you, Jesus.