Deep Breaths

I am diving head first and not looking back. As reckless as it may seem and beyond all reason, I quit my job today. It is enthralling, liberating, and terrifying. I know that many people stay in jobs that they hate or even loathe for all of their lives because it provides financial stability and structured routine. I am not one of those people. I need to be challenged and inspired in my job. I need to feel that I am making a difference. That I am working to help someone other then myself. As I am sure you can tell, it is the one area in my life that I am overwhelmingly unhappy. I have been fantasizing about quiting for a very long time and am so overjoyed that this day has finally come.

Several things motivated me for this change. First and foremost, Rebecca has begun her adventure into MSW land. She has spoiled me this summer providing astounding care to Wyatt and enabling me to go to work without a worry in my heart. Wyatt adores Aunt B more than I can express in words. He lights up when she is in the room. He often looks to me for comfort but always to Rebecca for laughs and playtime. They are so in tune with one another and often seem like the only people together in a crowded room. I knew that Rebeccas time as "The Best Babysitter in the WORLD" was limited but the thought of daycare paralyzes me. I know it may sound silly but I am not ready. Daycare is great and Wyatt will go there eventually. I believe it does wonders for socialization but I want Wyatt to be able to communicate with his caregivers. Right now he gives his cues subtly and only the experience of being with him all the time will you understand his language. Once he is able to portray his needs in body language, words, or other forms of communication will I be pacified. At least I can admit that I am being over protective.

I am thrilled that I will be home with Wyatt. I miss getting to take him for walks during the day. I signed us up for a Mommy and Me reading time for 6-18 month olds at the library. I am excited to watch him grow in front of my eyes. I am sure that there will be some adjustment period for both of us but there is no where I would rather be than with him. I don't want to miss a minute. Hopefully, being home will allow me to feel less guilty about leaving him. There might be more opportunity for me to go out, to enjoy being 26 with friends.

As for the money part of quiting, that is what has me terrified. Currently, I am doing well with my part-time creative job in NJ and potential Walmart residuals. However, it is always Murphy's law that it goes well while I am working full time and once I have quit my phone will stop ringing. Lets pray that it is not the case. I am pretty frugal and thrifty and while living at home my expenses are limited. I am hoping that working part time and caring for Wyatt full time will give me an opportunity to take on other endeavors. Possibly writing some more, pitch some freelance articles, think about a masters degree, maybe volunteer at a shelter with Wyatt. The adventures are endless and the world is our oyster. Last day of work is around the 15th, counting the days.

Growing Older but Not Up

I am turning 26 on Saturday. I don't bring this up so everyone can wish me a happy birthday and send me gifts. This birthday seems to be creeping up on me rather more offensively then I anticipated. I don't feel that old. I have always had this great fear of 28. It's my scary age. I thought I would have had it all figured out by then. I would have a fabulous career in an office with an amazing view and a husband that cooks for me. I would live in a house with a white picked fence and gardeners to keep it pruned. Our house would have water views and look like something out of a Pottery Barn magazine with deep pocket couches, throw pillows, and hard wood floors. I would have a rich mahogany party planning desk with lots of cubbies for organizing. And no one in the world would starve, gas would be 50 cents per gallon, ATM's would disperse free money, and Lima beans would taste like rainbow sprinkles. Yes, I know, unrealistic. But fantasies are, by definition, unrealistic.

Instead of my suburban nirvana, I have a career that is going no where fast, living in my parents house, single, with a gorgeous baby. Not exactly what I expected but life rarely goes the way you expect it. I have been good about throwing expectations out the window but for some reason 28 is bashing red flags on my head making turning 26 one year closer to the dreaded number. I am especially upset about the career portion. I graduated from a great private university. I am educated, competent, and motivated. I should have a better job; one with potential, responsibility, one that is engaging. Honestly, is that too much to ask?!

I am not complaining. I love my life. I am just having a hard time combining reality with my fantasy in the time span that I allotted for myself. So, in my most recent effort I applied to Grad school. I am thinking that I should become a teacher; a career that would challenge me on a daily basis, feed my addiction for office supplies, and allow for summers off to play with Wyatt. I have always been very proud of my mother for owning her business. To me, she epitomized that modern woman who has a family and is successful. She is business savvy, intelligent, and has the common sense to be competitive in a mans world. Owning the florist is a big undertaking and she does it with grace. I would like Wyatt to be proud of me and my career. If I have to be away from him, I want my absence to be meaningful and respected. I might not have everything figured out by 28 or ever for that matter but I need to start heading in the right direction.

Second Coming of Regina George

I have been a mean girl lately. I hate when I am mean. I know it may seem impossible because I have a calm, composed demeanor but every now and again I have been known to have a very sharp tongue. Especially with my family and adding tequila makes it much worse. I think it is because I am uninhibited by the repercussions. They have to love me no matter what I say. With them I tend to say whatever comes to mind without processing it through my mental filter and without concern for their feelings.

I want to officially apologize. I don't mean to hurt and I have to attribute most of my harshness to jealousy. I am jealous that my Mom and Rebecca are living my life with my son. Jealous that they are clocking more time with him than I am. That they get to experience him during his happiest times and I arrive home to end of the day crankiness and midnight feedings. That they are present to witness his firsts while I am working. I know its kind of a cop out but I have to throw hormones in the mix as well. I have been very even keel throughout my pregnancy, his birth, and first two months. Pat myself on the back. However, all of a sudden, I am finding myself very emotional. Leaving him makes me feel like this blind legless armless wonder that wanders aimlessly though my day. Its definitely something to be emotional about. I cried three times in church this Sunday while totally unaware of the cause. Church is not suppose to make people cry.

My jealousy rears its ugly butt with aggressive comments that focus on Rebecca and Moms insecurities as caregivers. Comments that imply that I would always do a better job or how they are not doing something right. I am irritable. Quick to judge and put people down. I want things done my way all the time (which is not always the right way). I call to check in and give a laundry list of things that they should be doing. I get frustrated easily and as soon as the words are out of my mouth I regret saying them. Please, ignore me. Both of you.

I am trying to be better about it. I LOVE that I have people I trust watching him. I am overwhelmed by the AMAZING job they are doing. He is thriving, safe, and loved all day. That is the most important thing to me. That is what I have to focus on instead of my selfish jealousy. I adore that he goes on walks every day. I just wish that I was home to participate. Wish I was home to love, adore, and catch his every waking smile. You both are doing fabulously amazing jobs and Wyatt is the better for it. I can't even begin to tell you how eternally grateful I am that he is home with two of his most adoring fans. But I can try by not being such a bitch!!

Must be the Money

Working totally sucks. I know that was eloquent but that is the best way that I can describe my dissatisfaction and contempt. I was so upset about going to work on Monday that I mistakenly put on my underwears wrong. As is waist through a leg hole and didn't even notice until my third trip to the bathroom. However, I am pretty proud that I didn't cry all day and that my first phone call home to check in was at 1. Everything was fine, as I knew it would be. Wyatt was playing happily all day with Aunt B and I was frantically pacing at work waiting for 5 o'clock.

Before Wy, I secretly looked down upon housewives and stay at home moms. Having the false assumption that all they did was sit in front of the TV, play with the kids, and eat bon-bons. Where was the motivation to seek aspirations for themselves? Who wouldn't love staying at home all day and having all the free time in the world? Where was the desire to strive to meet personal goals? I unabashedly say I was dead wrong. Being at home these past 11 weeks has tested my patience, pushed me to the edge of my sanity, overwhelmed me to tears of joy, and engaged my spirit. I worked the hardest I have ever in my life. Every single moment of every day and night, I had to bring my A game, my full attention, and my intelligence . I can't even conceive of a 9 to 5 that would required that much of myself.

I expected to be able to get many things accomplished being at home all the time. None of which I did but I totally don't care. I rarely checked my email. This blog became another item on my to-do-list. There were many days where my mom and dad would be coming home from work and I would still be un-showered, in my pajamas, and covered in spit-up simply because I never got around to getting dressed. I never had enough time for anything and I never wanted to go back to work. Maybe if my job was more stimulating or paid me huge amounts of money I would have been excited to return to my desk but neither of these statements are true.

I adored being home with Wyatt. I expected at some point that I would have gotten sick of being cooped up in the house. That I would want some semblance of my old life back. That I would enjoy going to the bathroom by myself but that day never dawned. The sole reason that I went back to work was because I am beyond broke and even that was a slow motivator. Wyatt is so much more important to me then my job or money and I highly doubt it will get any easier to leave him. It is working day number two. Is it too early to start looking for other jobs? Stay at home jobs?