Baby Mike Tyson vs. Mommy's leg

There's been so much self-discovery and change with the addition of Adeleigh's budding teeth. She has seven teeth and counting, and she's looking so different with a mouth of growing pearlies. She loves it when we brush her teeth. So much so, that she wails and cries when we're done, as if we've just taken away her privileges and livelihood. I guess it's a good thing she understands the importance of good mouth hygiene at such a young age. So long as she doesn't use those healthy, strong chompers to outlet her frustrations onto the world.

The other night, she took hold of the remote during the middle of my secret indulgence reality show, Bachelor Pad. I quickly tried to replace the remote with a Tickle Monster finger puppet but the smart little cookie noticed. She wasn't satisfied with my swap. She promptly grabbed hold of my leg like a drumstick, placed her mouth on my calf and chomped down as hard as she could. As if biting Mommy is going to put the remote conveniently back into her palms and win her the match.

It's probably a good thing I don't breastfeed anymore.

My sweet boxer baby unleashing her fury on the pink Tickle Monster.

I am still human

There were a lot of things that I put on hold when I became a Mom:

Practicing yoga - Lotus position is about as far as I make it (without even realizing I'm doing it), while playing with my frequently Happy Baby-posed baby.

Watching movies - except for listening to StarTrek play in the minivan, I haven't done much of this. Although when Adeleigh was 4 months old, we took her to see the family-friendly, colorful, comedy True Grit and she screamed during the opening scene. Then she giggled during all of the serious scenes...and there were lots of them.

Reading my Nook - which came in very handy on my maternity leave because I could hold my baby with book resting on my thigh, and flip through the pages without any effort. Since those days, my exposure to reading has been with lift-the-flap and touch & feel books primarily. I've got every single kid's book in this house memorized because Adeleigh makes her daddy and I read every single book to her every single day. I secretly took half of them and stuck them in the back of the closet when she wasn't looking...Something tells me she's going to be a literature-buff, just like her daddy.

Discovering new music - I have Sesame Street and Fisher Price tunes stuck in my head throughout the day. Although, I have noticed that Adeleigh seems to dance more when Mommy's tunes are playing. She must appreciate my ridiculously good taste in music, I guess. :)

Shopping - for anything other than diapers, wipes, Diaper Genie refills, formula and food. I have gotten good at couponing and saving us money on items we already buy. None of that extreme couponing stuff though. Why would you need 108 bottles of generic Excedrin or 54 containers of yogurt, even if it only cost you 8 cents total? That's just not realistic. Instead, I've been stocking up with our 19 boxes of Kleenex, 72 rolls of toilet paper, 100 pens and 48 rolls of paper towels. Phaeton's argument - "As if we have the extra space." But my argument? "I found a good deal........ the last 5 times I went shopping. And now we're set for the next 4 years on those items." And after the next time I go shopping, we'll be set for another 8 years. Phaeton will appreciate my new hobby someday...maybe when we have a bigger place.

I know I didn't have to put all of my hobbies on hold. I'm sure I could've still found time for everything. But I've been so consumed with the discovery of this new and exciting chapter of life, of becoming a Mom, that all of those things have naturally taken a backseat. And I'm okay with that. Because in the process, I've found some new and exciting hobbies to nurture. It's been a year and I've decided that it's time I start easing bits and pieces of those "oldie-but-goodie" loves back into my life, taking a little more "me" time (other than my commute to and from work) and not feeling guilty about it.

So, the other day, I downloaded some new music because it was free. And it was actually pretty good! I was so excited, I listened to the album over and over and over again. Now I'm sick of it, so I need to find something new already.
Then, the other night before bed, I pulled my Nook out of the attic, dusted the cobwebs off and got excited to read my recent purchase, The Art of Racing in the Rain. I tried to turn my Nook on, but the battery was dead after months of not being fondled, so I had to wait another 10 hours while it woke up and re-charged before I could enjoy.
Next, since I had some birthday money to spend, I made plans to take 3 hours of shopping for myself last weekend. I've been so used to finding good deals that I found so much was out of what I would consider a "reasonable" price range. I came home after 3 hours with only 2 items for myself, another bag of diapers and only spent $13.00. Guess I'll just need to go shopping again soon. Bummer (wink wink).
Then, I started Netflixing new movies. Phaeton knows I love French films. So the other day, after Adeleigh fell asleep, he conveniently started watching Heather-bait, a French romantic-comedy called Russian Dolls. Naturally, I was hooked. Now I've got 85 titles in my Instant Queue and am trying to watch every spare moment I have. (This is one reason I haven't blogged in awhile. Also why I love these rainy days so I can stay inside and enjoy.) A few of my French faves - Amelie, Priceless, Happenstance & Heartbreaker.

While I'm still working on finding time for yoga again, I am taking baby steps at re-kindling my relationship with some old-loves (including taking more time to hang out with friends!!!), and I'm finding out how beneficial it really is. And while Mommahood is always going to be full of discovery and learning and making adjustments, I'm at a point where I feel more comfortable (and feel it much more essential) to take a little more time for me. Which, as I've been reminded time and time again, is just fine.

You're one!

Dear Adeleigh,

I can't believe you're one! It feels like it was just yesterday that your Daddy and I held your wobbly, little wrinkly 6 pound 13 ounce body for the first time. Now you're almost walking, starting to talk, eating cookies, talking on your cell phone and taunting Rico with your food. It's amazing what one year holds. All the growth, laughter, smiles, tears, smells, baths, bottles, late nights, early mornings, mistakes, lessons-learned and -learning, the memories. There are just so many of the memories. There were so many leading up to your first breath of life, and so many yet to come. This last year has been life-altering in a way that no one ever could have prepared me for. Life-altering in a way that can only be good, and beautiful.

For your first birthday, we went to the park by our home. We bought you some mylar, helium-filled balloons that you absolutely loved - especially the Elmo one. We were afraid you were going to pop it in your face by smothering him with your kisses and hugs. I'm sorry that I didn't tie your balloons to the picnic table tight enough...I tried to run after them, but by the time I made it ten feet, they were putting Balloon Boy to shame (had he actually been in the balloon). Daddy seemed to think that bringing helium balloons to the park on a windy day had an obvious outcome, but I didn't even consider the possibility.
We ended up switching tables because of how mad I was at that one. Actually, we switched because of the swarm of bees that were wanting to pollenate your perfect, always-gonna-be-my baby-sweet skin. One very persistent bee followed us to our new site and Uncle Pat punched him in the face and drop-kicked him into the lake for you. Did you know if you lift up Uncle Pat's goatee hair, you'll find a fist instead of a chin? You can thank Uncle Chuck Norris for protecting you when you know how to talk.
I'm sorry that the Happy Birthday sign we hung for you broke into 3 pieces when a gust of wind came through. At least we were able to salvage "Happy" and "Day" for a picture with you. Sort of...

After cake and presents, we made our way down to the water fountain. The sign overhead read "All babies and toddlers must wear rubber pants at all times." But we didn't have any rubber pants for you. I don't even know what those are, do you? So we just let you go in your Birthday dress.

My favorite part of your birthday evening was soon after the time of day you were born. I sat in the living room holding you close. Your face smooshed up against my chest, legs straddled across my belly. I remembered that at this time last year, you took up a third of this space. This will always be my favorite way to hold you. We started out sleeping this way. So you could hear a familiar heartbeat and easily transition from womb to life, and so I could always feel your chest rising and know that you were safe. It was a very sweet moment to share with you. One that no gust of wind could've taken away.

Happy Birthday Little One.

A Taste of Fort Collins

I love this town. It's one of the most beautiful places on earth. My 130,000 neighbors must agree. Even Walt Disney agrees - that's why he designed downtown Disney Land after Old Town, Fort Collins. One thing we love is all of the local fare and restaurants. I think we have the most restaurants per capita in the nation, so eating out never gets old.
For my birthday this year, I chose to eat at Bisetti's Italian Ristorante in Old Town. A meal at Bisetti's was long overdue. We used to go there about twice a year for special occasions, but hadn't been since I was pregnant.

Phaeton, Adeleigh and I walked inside, put our name in and were told it'd be a 30-40 minute wait. It'd be well worth the wait, and I had been craving Italian all week, so we were going to wait. We sat down in the bar and asked the bartender for a mug of hot water to warm up a bottle for the little one. Everyone at the bar looked our way. The bartender paused, then said, "Let me see what I can find." He brought back a pitcher of steaming water and took our wine order. I was feeling slightly intimidated. We sat down, I was holding Adeleigh, and we started to sip our wine. I began to question if this was a family-friendly atmosphere and whether or not we should stay. I didn't see any other children. I turned and asked Phaeton if he thought we should leave. I didn't want to disrupt anyone's quiet, romantic evening out. He said, "It's your birthday, who cares what these people think? No one will notice anyway." A lady and her husband walked by and the lady said, "Look! There's a baby in here!" As if a baby in a bar was out of the ordinary. She was being quiet and calm. She really is a very good baby. No matter how much anxiety I feel when we go out in public, she's always been so relaxed and content.

Adeleigh started to squirm, so we tried to entertain her with the plethora of pink things that we lugged into the restaurant, just in case. She was more interested in playing with the crisp, freshly printed wine list and shiny silverware though.

They called our name and sat us towards the back. There was no highchair at the table, so the hostess went to go look for one. I'm pretty sure she had to pull the highchair out of the attic, dust the cobwebs off and find the little Italian mouse family a new home.

We sat down. Phaeton grabbed the knife out of Adeleigh's hand, looked to me and said, "Drink your wine." The two ladies at the table next to us stared and said, "As long as she sits there like a good girl, we all can have a nice relaxing dinner." Adeleigh was being a good girl! A little squirmy was all. I wondered what they'd say if she had a meltdown....Then, she screamed. Not a bad scream, just an "I need some more attention" scream. We tried to distract her by pulling out more snacks and toys. The two ladies switched to a different table. Phaeton saw my anxiety building and said, "Drink your wine."

The hostess came back and said, "Would she like some crayons to play with?" I said, "Thank you, but no. She'll just eat them and then we'll be changing crayon diapers." We ate our appetizer and salad, then our pasta dish arrived. By this point, she was distracted by the chandeliers above. There was a stone-cold couple across the room she noticed and tried to get to smile by throwing her toys on the ground. They weren't amused. Probably because she was throwing her toys right in the path of the oncoming waiter that had their food. I ran over, apologized, picked up her toys, and sat back down. Phaeton said, "Drink your wine."

Then the Zombie growls started. I think she's watched one too many of her dad's movies. She was still being good, just a little loud. And we could tell she was getting tired. I didn't want people to have their nice, date night out interrupted by Zombie-Baby. So, Phaeton ate another bite of his pasta, grabbed the growling child and said to me, "You are not leaving this restaurant until you finish that entire glass of wine and the rest of my pasta. We'll be outside, but take your time." He gave me a kiss. "And Happy Birthday." What a sweet husband he is. I sat there for about ten minutes with my Malbec and two bowls of unfinished basil chicken.

Then, I looked over at the two ladies and was suddenly reminded that while we were in a fancy restaurant, we were still in easygoing, "Save the Poudre", butt-cheek baring Fort Collins. Their Birkenstocks paired with their Coach handbags gave that one away. What other city can you wear socks with sandals, Chacos with a wedding dress, high heels on a bike, cowboy boots with a mohawk and bolo tie and blend in? This is the town where, if someone cuts you off while driving, you never honk your horn. Instead, you blow them a kiss. However, if someone throws a water bottle in the wrong waste receptable, you give them the bird (but probably not where they can see you). I love this town. And people here are friendly and understanding. And I suddenly realized that it didn't matter that we brought our baby to a fancy restaurant. Because this is Fort Collins. And it was my birthday. And I wanted my family there.

I finished my wine. I grabbed the food to-go, grabbed a handful of Bisetti's yummy after-dinner mints (because it was my birthday, I could grab a handful) and walked outside to see my smiling husband and baby waiting for me. I gave them a hug. Then a bare-footed half-naked hippie rode by on his unicycle.

I love this place.

And I couldn't resist -

My almost 1-year-old Adeleigh and my 11-year-old Birkenstocks.

A Baby Bite of Mommahood

Today I realized that I might enjoy playing with Adeleigh's blocks more than she does. I built this awesome rainbow tower while Adeleigh sat by me working on her puzzle. Apparently A-bomb didn't approve because she crawled right over to my tower, disassembled it with one smack, and crawled back over to her puzzle. I had to hold back the lone tear that thought about falling.

After Godzilla fell asleep, Phaeton found me hard at work re-building the rainbow Mega-Block wonder. I'm trying to disguise it as a piece of furniture, so she might not notice it's overwhelming beauty and glory - and so she hopefully will be able to overcome the urge to destroy....

I hired a guard dog to protect its excellence.

I think I can

Didn't finish this until Monday, but I started it Saturday. And Julie, you inspired me to write about it, no matter how crazy I might sound...


Today is Saturday. It's two Saturdays before Adeleigh turns one. The New West Fest is going on in Old Town this weekend. Seven years I've lived here and not once have I gone to New West Fest. Almost one year I've been a Mom and not once have I gone to Old Town with the baby alone. Generally, I've always been one to avoid the crowds, even more so with a baby. When it comes to eating out at restaurants, our family is hangin' with all the 80-something-year-olds eating dinner at 4pm. Crowds mean more crazies, more things to watch out for, more time to wait. But today I took that chance. Alone. With the baby.
Yesterday, Phaeton reminded me that last year, riots broke out during the Earth, Wind and Fire concert at the festival. This morning, he reminded me again. "Just run!" He said. "If you see something happening in the crowd, just take the baby and run the other way." My nerves started taking over as I made the drive to the Mason Street parking garage and couldn't find a spot on the normally less-crowded first floor. I was crossing into unfamiliar territory - the second story of the parking garage. All kinds of scary things happen in parking garages...on the 2nd floor...in the middle of the day. What was I thinking?! I found a spot right by the elevator. But after getting the screaming baby all packed up in the stroller, I didn't take the elevator. Because all kinds of scary things happen in elevators of parking garages, right? I took the walkway, assuming that it would wind around and take me to the first floor. It did wind around, but it took me to a door of the Opera Galleria building instead. So here I am, approaching a door on a narrow walkway pushing a stroller and all I can think is, How am I going to maneuver this one - to gracefully open the door while pushing the stroller and make it through to the other side, alive? I remembered that time in Kindergarten, when the bathroom was all out of paper towels. I tried to turn the doorknob and my hand was too slippery so the knob wouldn't turn. I just stood there in the bathroom crying with wet hands until a teacher came in and opened the door so I made a mad dash outside. I hated that bathroom afterwards....
This moment reminded me of that time, only this one was not as wet, or tearful. But this time, a little boy walking with his family behind me ran ahead and held open the door for me. I guess I didn't need to be so scared after all. The walkway continued winding around and I saw the open stairwell to the right where the family all made their way. Further down the hall was the elevator. Guess I couldn't dodge this one.... Once I made it to the 1st floor, I found the exit and walked swiftly towards it while the boy waited for me and held the door again. Double thanks, little boy. The crowds started to appear on the streets. I headed south to cross Mountain Ave and stopped at the intersection. Everyone else was going. I looked up. The blue man on the street sign means I can walk now, right? Everyone else was, so I made the executive decision to walk. And I made it to the other side. Success!
Adeleigh and I met up with the ladies at Ingredient - Shay, Des, Amber, Val & Baby Brooke. Adeleigh and I weren't alone anymore! If I had to pee, there was someone there to keep an eye on Adeleigh. Someone I knew to open the door for us! We ate lunch, we ate frozen yogurt. We walked around the festival and people-watched. We walked around Old Town. It was a lot of fun! I saw other moms with strollers and admired them. They're probably used to this. They've probably done this thousands of times with their babies. I saw one lady holding a little baby, pushing a stroller that had another baby sleeping inside and crossing the street. She is amazing at multi-tasking!
I remember in the weeks after Adeleigh was born going to Sam's Club with Phaeton and our week-old baby. We saw a Mom (sans husband), dressed in a nice outfit, pushing the bigger-than-normal Sam's Club cart with 2 of her kids sitting in the bed of the cart, 1 younger kid facing out towards her, legs dangling, all while holding a newborn baby that was wrapped in the all-so-familiar hospital blanket. It must come more naturally the more babies you have - to just give birth, put on a skirt, pack up the family and go shopping all in one day. That'd be an eventful day! And so was today.
I was driving home with a sleeping baby, and all I could think was, I can do this. I did it. I made it okay with the baby. And I got out of the house. And I had a much needed day with the ladies. And there were no riots. So I think I can do it again - next year :)

Fuzz

I was born with a fro. I was also born with hair covering my entire body. I think lots of babies are. The difference between me and most babies? Mine stayed. Now I've passed that trait on to my daughter. I remember in Adeleigh's first months, admiring her little ears and the fine hair that extended off of them, like a little garden gnome. As she's grown, her ears have grown into her ear hair. Her shoulders have grown into their hair too. My favorite is the little soul patch of hair on her lower back. It's like a baby back tattoo. And I like to tickle it.

Our adorable hairy baby

My hair has taken on some interesting forms since the fro. In grade school, my poofy bangs would naturally take on a curl within the curl. Like a double rainbow on my forehead. Then, I remember the days of Sun-In, which gave my naturally dark brown hair a slight yellow tint. Then they discovered that Sun-In causes your skin to melt, so I stopped using it. Then, in high school, I had my sister highlight my hair blonde. It was cute until the dark roots started to grow out. My sister tried to touch-up the roots, and instead dyed half of my entire head of hair white, the other half orange, the other-other half, stayed my natural dark brown. I freaked. Mom let me call-out sick for school the next day because well, as a teen, showing up to high school with neopolitan hair was like, totally not cool. We made an emergency appointment with a family friend who was a hair stylist and paid her over $100 to fix my hair. Thanks, Mom. We decided if we were investing that amount of money to dye it, we might as well get creative. So, we did zebra stripes, a mellowed-out version. Chunky highlights with blonde and dark brown. Fun, until once again, the roots started to grow. I felt trapped. Now that I'd started experimenting with this drug called hair-dye, I couldn't stop. Years later I've finally gone au-natural - with the color at least. I've gone through phases of wearing it naturally curly and had another fro phase my first few years of college. My then-boyfriend told me that I looked like a poodle with my curly hair....just one reason he didn't remain my boyfriend. And one ridiculous reason I spend entirely too much time straightening it every morning.

I'd like to think that my hair looked better than a poodle's...


Picture taken from Wikipedia.org
........................


When Phaeton and I got married, my hair was the longest it had ever been, down to my shoulder blades. I've had a series of haircuts over 4 years to try and freshen up my style. Now that I'm a Mom, what better time to do another one of those "I'll never do that" statements than now? So the other day, I did the "I'll never get a Mom-Do" Mom-Do. It's the shortest it's been since my freshman fifteen and fro. And it's taking some getting used to, but I like that it's new. I bought my first round-brush ever to style it with and fumbled with it all morning the way Bambi fumbled with his legs when he was on the ice. Guess I need a little more practice.


Picture found on Google images


Phaeton has also had some interesting hair experiences in his day. Until he was seven, he had a full head of blonde hair. Over the years, it's grown darker like mine. In high school, his nickname was Jesus because of his glorious flowing Jesus-like locks and goatee. Also because every lunch hour, he'd re-create the miracle of chocolate milk coming out of his friend's noses. I remember once rummaging through pictures of him with different colored dos. I asked him today, "Didn't I see a picture of you with purple hair?" His reply was, "No, it was plum."        My bad.        He also experimented with platinum, copper and peroxide. I knew there was a reason I loved him so much.

In her first year, Adeleigh's hair has already gone from jet black to light brown. As it grows, she's getting a bit of curl. She's got so much to look forward to when it comes to her hair - the styles, the frizzies, the shaving. She's got so much to learn from our hairy experiences of growing up. Looking through old photos of her parents she'll learn all about different animals, influential people, colors and shapes - all through our hair. For now though, we can keep our cute little rascal's style simple.

I must be a Momma because........

...By the time my alarm goes off at 5:30am, I've already been up for at least an hour.
...Our furniture is slowly being replaced by the miniature version.
...Once we've decided to leave the house, it takes us, at minimum, another 45 minutes to get out the door.
...After shopping with Adeleigh in Barnes and Noble, I've come out to find my car doors standing wide open. (Pregnancy brain doesn't end just because pregnancy ends.)
...I can walk up 2 flights of stairs while holding my baby, the diaper bag, dog leash and all 7 bags of groceries. (Do not try this at home.)
...I'm lucky to have gotten one meal in for the day. Meanwhile, my baby has had eight.
...Coffee, chocolate and wine have become a main food group in my pyramid. (This one is not contingent on motherhood status.)
...I am no longer bothered by the incessantly crying baby at the supermarket.
...The house cannot, no matter how hard I try, stay clean for longer than 10 minutes.
...The songs I have stuck in my head throughout the day are "I'm a little teapot" and "Monkeys jumping on the bed."
...Our medical expenses have skyrocketed because I worry that every little bump, sneeze, tear and frown constitutes a doctor's visit.
...Only one person is allowed to lick my face when I say "kiss".
...Our family is bilingual in blowing raspberries.
...Getting out of the house to go check the mail feels like a mini-vacation.
...After breast-pumping in the car, it's not out of the ordinary to step out into public completely exposed after having forgotten to buckle my nursing tank. (Yes, this has happened to me. Fortunately, Phaeton tapped on the window loud enough for me to notice before I walked into Chipotle. Who knows how many people got a looksie first.)
...A poopy diaper deserves a celebration.
...Thunder thighs are considered cute.
...For the last year, my heart has been fuller than it's ever been.
...My husband exceeded all of my expectations of a man when he became a father. He still does.

And finally, I must be a Momma because...
...Despite how challenging it can be, I wouldn't change a thing.

The cutest thighs ever.

Four years

It's after 11pm on August 1, 2011. Today is our 4th wedding anniversary. The baby is asleep. Phaeton is watching some show with space aliens, 80's music and a guy with his pretty pretty hair pulled back in a ponytail. I should be getting ready for bed, but it's just so comfortable here. Even when we're not doing anything exciting, it's just nice to be in each other's company. There's not a lot of space around here, so it's easy to not be lonely. And that's one thing we love about living in a one-bedroom condo. Everyone is all so near. It's cozy.
We are trying to recall some of the funny moments in our relationship. The ones where, when we look back, the laughing brings us to tears. Like the time where I woke from a dead sleep and started screaming "Fire! Fire!" Phaeton jumped out of bed in his skivvies and ran into the living room. Ran back and yelled some obscenities my way, then crawled back into bed and put his earplugs in. For the record, I remember waking up and truly thinking I saw orange flames and smoke coming from the front room. Oops.
Or the time where, once again while sleeping, I carried on a full conversation with Phaeton about how he needed to immediately go find me some napkins because I was drooling all over the place. We don't even own any napkins. We're a paper towel kinda family. Phaeton told me all about our convo the next day. How sweet of him that at 2am, he actually contemplated going to the store to buy me some napkins. If that's not true love, I don't know what is...
...........
We met while both working at Barnes and Noble. He was my boss. I was a seasonal bookseller. Following the Holiday season, he had the option of choosing one seasonal to work in his cafe. He chose me.
My first night training in the cafe, I asked my boss if he was going to ask me out for Valentine's Day. He turned around, stuck his hand in the sanitizer bucket and kept it there for awhile. No response. I guess I caught him off guard? Then I handed him my phone number and he said, "I don't know if I can call you." What a responsible supervisor he was. So I said, "I'm not asking you out on a date or anything, I'm just giving you my number. Do with it what you want." He called me that night and asked me out for Valentine's Day. I guess he was planning to all along. :) We went to Mugs until they closed, then down the street to Waffle House to eat some hashbrowns and talk until 3 in the morning.

Now we have a baby, an almost one-year-old to share those experiences with. When I see Phaeton with our daughter, I'm more and more grateful that he called me that night. He's a wonderful Dad. A wonderful husband. Our days just get better and bigger and cozier. And now Phaeton's show is over, so we're gonna go brush our teeth.

The boss

Being a Mom has given me a new appreciation for so many things, including - family, work, relationships, on sleep, space, the lack of sleep and space, on getting time for me, or for us, on health, on the importance of having a glass (or 2) of wine with dinner. Having a child has made me realize that all the little stresses and annoyances in life, don't have to be so annoying (especially after the wine has kicked in). All those little things take away from my focus on all of the positive, on all that I have to be grateful for. It's not always easy though. Like, when I'm overwhelmed with work and leave a huge stack of unfinished business at the end of the day, I have to remind myself, It's not you're most important job.

Other than being a full-time Mom, here's my job situation. About 2 months ago, I put in a request to go part-time. I decided that working 40+ hrs/week away from Adeleigh wasn't cutting it. I felt guilty for every moment I couldn't be with her. I felt guilty for every moment where I was thinking about work, focused on anything other than my baby. (This is why Phaeton and I have only gone on 3 dates sans Baby.)
So, the company I work for requires a full-time recruiter. It's a busy job with a high demand and requires a great deal of focus. Going part-time in that job role just isn't an option, and it makes sense. But, I've been feeling that for where I'm at in my life, I can't devote the time, focus and energy to that role that is required. I've been struggling to keep up with the workload because I'm thinking about monkeys instead.

So one day at daycare, Adeleigh choked on a rock. Fortunately, her daycare provider knew exactly what to do and Adeleigh was fine. Whether or not we were okay is up for debate. Both Phaeton and I left work in a panic and when we showed up at daycare to give her a big hug and take her home for the day, there she was, bouncing and giggling and blowing raspberries like nothing had happened. We were both soaked in my tears. A week later, she had that scary-sick spell that made my hair gray. These back-to-back events led us to re-prioritize. Phaeton and I agreed that it was time for me to cut back at work a little bit. But my request for part-time was denied. We knew what our family needed right now, so I quit my job.
My boss and I had a meeting so I could explain what led to my decision. I explained it all. He asked if they created a part-time role within my department, a role with less hours, less stress, less responsibility, would I be interested. After much indecision and pulling my hair out and talking it through and asking for advice, I decided to quiet the background noise and listen to my gut....

Once the icecream in my belly stopped digesting, it all made sense. I can't pinpoint it to a particular thing, but I knew I needed to accept my boss's offer. My new job role and schedule starts this week. And while it will mean a pay cut, it'll give me valuable and more anticipated time with my daughter. I'm okay with that. Because she's my most important, and much cuter, boss.