Our first lost toy, aka our Summer Vacation

Don't tell my son, but that wubbanub lion he was rubbing all over his cheek last night? It's not HIS wubbanub lion. I mean, it's his now, but it's not HIS. You dig?

Last week, after a busy spring at work and a near daily desire to throw my hands in the air and walk out the door by 10 am, we took a glorious week off. Or rather, I took a week off. My husband worked his last two days EVER at his current job and started a week of "unemployment" status before beginning the next exciting phase in his career.

While I waited for him to be off, I had 2 glorious days to snuggle the wee one and pretend to get shit done around the house. Mostly we watched terrible daytime tv and napped together in the recliner. Bliss.

Our vacation started on a Wednesday with a 7-hour ride to North Carolina. Which with a small child and 2 adults in desperate need of caffeine (and by 1 pm, beer) is actually a 9-hour ride. It went rather smoothly, all things considered.

I won't bore you with vacation details, other than to share that we visited a lot of breweries thanks to my dear old dad serving as our designated driver, and we ate a massive amount of sushi/burgerushi (yes BURGER-ushi) at a place called Cow Fish. If you're ever in Raleigh, I highly recommend it. The kids menu comes with a tattoo and their kids meals are served in an adorable bento box!

Tattoo #2 and he's not even a year old yet.

Anyway, come Saturday I realized that somewhere along the way we had lost Riley's wubba. He's not particularly attached to one particular toy or lovie yet, but apparently I am. Because in the course of realizing it was gone and searching for it I nearly cried about half a dozen times. How could we? What awful parents we are! Allowing this precious toy to fall out of the diaper bag. Surely we were destined for worst parents on earth status.

Despite our efforts, which even included searching photo records for the last known wubba sighting, he was sadly not recovered. I hope he's living an exciting new life somewhere in Raleigh. Maybe he's the new mascot of a brewery, hanging out at the bar. Luckily, a new wubba arrived a few days after we got home, thanks to some savvy amazon prime ordering during the drive back. All is right with the world as far as Riley is concerned, but I'm still a little bit sad. I blame Pixar.

Finding my Mojo

I went out on maternity leave in August 2014, and returned back to work in December of the same year, 14 weeks later. My son was 14 weeks old, and I got shoved back into the grind of a commute, work, rinse, repeat. This isn't a new story, this is the story of every working mother in the US. If you're not in the US, I likely hate you for your more parent-friendly leave policies, since almost every country is ahead of us.

I will say this--I am lucky enough to live in a state with paid maternity leave. Since short-term disability is through the state of NJ, it also includes maternity leave. It's nowhere near 100% pay, but it certainly makes life a little easier.

Anyway, my point here wasn't to get into a discussion about how shitty the US is towards new mothers, my point is that without much ceremony or mental preparedness, I returned to my old job a little over 3 months after my son was born. This first part was...not so bad. Riley wasn't in daycare yet, thanks to the generosity of my mom and mother-in-law. December is a notoriously slow time of year in my field. I only had to get through 3ish weeks and then it was holiday time and I was off again.

4 months later, we unexpectedly had to put Riley in daycare. This went more smoothly than I expected, and he's taken to being around other caregivers and other kids without any trouble. I, on the other hand, didn't fare as well.

Sure, I put on a brave face, but every day that I only got a few hours in the morning and a few at night with my son ate at me. I wanted to quit, but I knew my income was vital to our comfortable life. I wanted to spend my time after work nuzzled against my son, but he was growing and wanted to explore. I wanted to kick things and be angry that life wasn't different, but I had a happy, healthy baby and a great job and why did I have a right to be sad?

(Wow...I didn't expect this post to be such a downer...I promise more swearing and humor next time)

These feelings have faded a bit, but I still have moments where I just want to get up and walk out of work and never look back. This is not a reflection on my job specifically, but the simple fact that I really don't get to choose to work, I have to work. I'm working really hard at getting my mojo back, my passion for my career, and it's getting there, slowly but surely.

Until it's back at full capacity, I'll keep plugging along, counting down the hours until I can see my baby's smiling face.

Oh, hello.

This is not my first blog. If I'm careful, and less lazy, hopefully it will be my last. Not in the sense that I give up blogs forever, but in the sense that I actually stick with this one and turn it into something I don't slowly lose interest in and leave by the wayside.

I've had a career that's almost 10 years old. I have a son that's not quite one. While I still love my job, it's no longer in the top 3 list of things I care or worry most about anymore. Oh, it's still a top tenner, don't worry about that, but the cliches about having kids is true, your priorities in life change drastically once they come around.

I read a lot of "mommy blogs" when I need a break in my day. I read them for humor, I read them to know that I'm not alone in some of my struggles. But the more I read, the more I realized that I hadn't found a blog that hit the nail on the head as far as where I was in life. Either the moms were more seasoned and had older kids, or they had a much different work life situation, and in most cases a combination of the two. Not a bad thing, but not exactly my thing.

I work a traditional job, 5 days a week, 40+ hours a week. I'm lucky enough that I get to work from home 2 days a week, but that doesn't mean my kiddo is here with me. He's still in daycare, because let me tell you there is no way to get work done and take care of a 9-month-old, army crawling, curiously adorable kid. So, for all intents and purposes, I work a very traditional job. I don't have flex hours, I don't get to pick and choose my projects. I have to find a balance that I'm still so far from.

So, that's where I am. I'm going to try and keep up with updating this blog. I hope it'll be amusing, funny, and honest. I hope to share my own thoughts and stories, as well as things I think others will find amusing from around the internet and beyond. I might share a recipe now and then, if I ever get back to really cooking, and probably a DIY success or fail along the way to boot.

Welcome. Welcome moms, dads, friends, strangers. Welcome readers. Let's hope we both stick around.