Lola's been getting all the blog love, so I thought I should probably give Liam some spotlight time too :)
Monday, August 16, 2010
(side note: this photo has nothing to do with this post.....its just of Lola being cute - with WINGS!)
A month has passed. 30 days. Man, can things change a lot! I was never really all that excited, as you can imagine. Who gets excited to slave away for The Man for 40 hours? I was also not excited because I came to the realization that I really did not want to work. At all. At that point though, it was too late to back out, so I had to press through.
Which I am still doing at this point. Pressing through.
Let us start with the positives…shall we?
1. Thankfully the least of our worries was the daycare. Even with the adjustment for Liam I think Poko Loko rocks. They’re happy, courteous and communicative on every level, and the kids are so happy and content when we pick them up. It’s a great feeling to know they are thriving there.
2. The company I’m working for is so far, living up to its expectation as a family owned Christian company. The people here are amazing – incredibly nice and go out of their way to make sure I’m feeling welcome and that my basic needs are taken care of. I really enjoy my bosses, and I think they are great guys to work for.
3. $$$ is nice.
4. Pat and I are communicating more. This is an unexpected, but very welcome, benefit. We talk on the phone now just because (i.e. because I’m bored) and because we don’t have kids running amuk to chase after.
For as cranky as I was the first couple of days, I didn’t think I was even going to make it a month. But I have. And its improving. Here’s the deal: It’s a big adjustment. For all parties involved. Yes, I’m sure you all know that, but think about how much of an adjustment its going to be, and then multiply it by 100. Then you’re getting closer.
The kids were cranky (well, at least Liam was….Lola didn’t care much) for a good couple of weeks, and I was operating on survival mode. Poor Pat, well, Pat was acting as resident Superdad/Superhusband…..doing everything in his power to make the household run smoothly, and to make my life easier (side note: he still continues to do so……and I if I loved him 100% before, than I can’t even begin to describe how much more I love him now….he’s incredible and amazing and I don’t know where I’d be without him).
So what’s the problem, you ask?
That’s a great question. I think it has the most to do with A) Not quite enough work to fill all the time and B) not knowing exactly what I’m doing. Mostly the latter. I despise not knowing what I’m doing. It angers me. And frustrates me. And then angers me some more. I realize that there is a learning curve, and I’m not expected to know everything there is to know after only a month on the job, but I feel like I should be contributing more and being more productive, and its just not happening. That’s the perfectionist in me….I can keep her under control most times, but every once in a while she rears her ugly head.
The commute blows. I’ve never had a commute more than 30 minutes. Going from zero commute to an hour blows. I don’t mind driving. Its just that its taking time away from my family that makes me cranky. I suppose I’m getting used to it though. And it does give me 2 hours a day of quiet…or noisy if you take into account my NPR podcasts or booty music blasting.
The last thing that stinks…..is that my body is falling apart. Seriously. At the seams! I’ve had issues with my wrists, my jaw, my neck, and most recently, my feet! I’m attributing this to the stress of transition, and fact that I am a hypochondriac. Buy a hypochondriac with real symptoms. For example: Since starting work I have athlete’s foot. Yes, I know. TMI. Work with me here. Hot weather + to small work boots = prime conditions for fungus growth. Its pretty severe (at least in my mind) and looks less like athlete’s foot and more like a Fast Mutating Flesh Eating Bubonic Plague Based Bacteria. I’ll spare you the photographs, but rest assured, ladies and germs, this fungus is eating my feet (or at least my two smallest toes) ALIVE! So much so, that last night I was concerned that I was running out of skin, and soon where my toes should be there will be nothing left but bloody, bone exposed nubs.
And I was almost throwing myself into a panic attack thinking about it while Pat chuckled not quietly enough to himself about my woes. Bastard! If only he weren’t so devastatingly handsome and amazing….
OK. I suppose I’ll start bitching now and get working….it is getting better, I can only hope that it continues to improve.