Today was my first day at a new job, my first real experience working in an actual office. I set my alarm for 4am and hauled myself quietly out of bed so I didn't wake up the Wild Rumpus. I took my carefully chosen outfit downstairs with me, stuck coffee brewed last night in my French Press in the microwave, and dressed while the coffee heated up. I grabbed my purse and my lunch bag, packed the night before, poured my coffee in my travel mug, added what some people would think is too much sugar and milk, and took everything out to the car. I made sure everything was ready and the car was heating up, then I gently, oh so gently lifted Kade and his favorite green blanket up and eased him into his car seat for the trip to his GT and GC's house.
As it is still winter, it was still not even false dawn as we drove, and even though Portland is a large enough city to never sleep, there was still that almost too early to really be called morning hush over the roads, before the rush to get to work by 8 or 9am hits them. Kade had woken up as I had eased his car seat harness on, but he was quiet the whole trip, with that crunched face puzzled look he gets. He was happy to see his G's even at 5am, but when I had to leave he wasn't thrilled.
I managed to get to work more than early enough and proceeded to spend, as one of my fellow new co-workers put it, "One of the most boring days of my life." But in this case, I was being paid to be bored, and nothing covered today will be on the final test thankfully.
It was when I was taking Kade out of the car at home this afternoon when I realized how much in my life has changed recently, and since we moved back to Portland last year. In college, my wardrobe consisted of work pants, hiking boots, t-shirts, wool hats, and long underwear. This past half a year I have been slowly trading out my clothes from my T-shirt and jean collection to business casual, as the jobs I'm currently aiming at require a level above my beloved Carhartts.
Today I wore low black heels, striped brown slacks, a wide shouldered turquoise shirt, and a wool pea coat I found at Goodwill. As I was walking towards the front door this afternoon, I had slung my brown leather purse and my girly but understated lunch bag over one shoulder, I had Kade on one hip with his green blanket and I asked him to hold onto my coffee mug, to which he proudly proclaimed it to be, "Momma's coffee!"
I have a degree in Outdoor Education, but I'm gearing up to go back to school for EMT with hopeful eventual transfer to Radiography. A year ago I was supporting my partner's and Kade's father's efforts to go back to school himself, and actually complete this time around; now it's my turn to learn a new career, completely different from what I wanted as a teenager. In college I worked draft horses and facilitated challenge courses; now I answer phones and carry a name badge. Eight months ago I went to sleep every night with a partner and a baby in the co-sleeper; now I tuck my son in, read and sing to him in his trundle bed, then fold laundry and pack my lunch into the fridge before crawling quietly onto the top bunk.
Eight months ago I could also ask someone else to change Kade's diaper, or switch the laundry, or make some dinner; for the past five months it's been all on me, and I can freely admit I've dropped some things. In November, not once did laundry get put away. I really only vacuum once a week, although if I go two days the grey carpet turns black from the cat's hair. On the nights he passes the sniff test, Kade doesn't always get a bath, and my important paperwork filing system leaves something to be desired. I stayed up until 2am Saturday night/Sunday morning to finish a book that pulled me in, even though Kade would be awake and ready to go around 730am. For breakfast on Sunday, we had sausage and peanut butter toast because I was a bit too tired to make omelettes.
Despite the pain and loneliness of the past few months, and floundering without a life plan or a career to speak of, Kade and I will be more than okay. Eventually I dare to hope, again, for happiness, even partnership. I dare to hope that eventually Kade and I will afford our own little place, even save up for a small house someday. Even though these changes have been painful and heart wrenching and just plain hard, I am grateful for them, and, minus a few details mostly around money, happy in the place we are at.
My gradual change from selfish college hippy brat to single professional working mother has been a hard, bumpy, occasionally even joyous road. Not a day goes by that I do not tell Kade that I love him, that I don't kiss and hug and tickle him into giggles, that I don't see that huge, utterly satisfied smile on his face. We play peekaboo and watch Thomas and read books and run around the house like crazy people and brush each other's hair, my brown locks and his fine silver-blonde strands.
As it is still winter, it was still not even false dawn as we drove, and even though Portland is a large enough city to never sleep, there was still that almost too early to really be called morning hush over the roads, before the rush to get to work by 8 or 9am hits them. Kade had woken up as I had eased his car seat harness on, but he was quiet the whole trip, with that crunched face puzzled look he gets. He was happy to see his G's even at 5am, but when I had to leave he wasn't thrilled.
I managed to get to work more than early enough and proceeded to spend, as one of my fellow new co-workers put it, "One of the most boring days of my life." But in this case, I was being paid to be bored, and nothing covered today will be on the final test thankfully.
It was when I was taking Kade out of the car at home this afternoon when I realized how much in my life has changed recently, and since we moved back to Portland last year. In college, my wardrobe consisted of work pants, hiking boots, t-shirts, wool hats, and long underwear. This past half a year I have been slowly trading out my clothes from my T-shirt and jean collection to business casual, as the jobs I'm currently aiming at require a level above my beloved Carhartts.
Today I wore low black heels, striped brown slacks, a wide shouldered turquoise shirt, and a wool pea coat I found at Goodwill. As I was walking towards the front door this afternoon, I had slung my brown leather purse and my girly but understated lunch bag over one shoulder, I had Kade on one hip with his green blanket and I asked him to hold onto my coffee mug, to which he proudly proclaimed it to be, "Momma's coffee!"
I have a degree in Outdoor Education, but I'm gearing up to go back to school for EMT with hopeful eventual transfer to Radiography. A year ago I was supporting my partner's and Kade's father's efforts to go back to school himself, and actually complete this time around; now it's my turn to learn a new career, completely different from what I wanted as a teenager. In college I worked draft horses and facilitated challenge courses; now I answer phones and carry a name badge. Eight months ago I went to sleep every night with a partner and a baby in the co-sleeper; now I tuck my son in, read and sing to him in his trundle bed, then fold laundry and pack my lunch into the fridge before crawling quietly onto the top bunk.
Eight months ago I could also ask someone else to change Kade's diaper, or switch the laundry, or make some dinner; for the past five months it's been all on me, and I can freely admit I've dropped some things. In November, not once did laundry get put away. I really only vacuum once a week, although if I go two days the grey carpet turns black from the cat's hair. On the nights he passes the sniff test, Kade doesn't always get a bath, and my important paperwork filing system leaves something to be desired. I stayed up until 2am Saturday night/Sunday morning to finish a book that pulled me in, even though Kade would be awake and ready to go around 730am. For breakfast on Sunday, we had sausage and peanut butter toast because I was a bit too tired to make omelettes.
Despite the pain and loneliness of the past few months, and floundering without a life plan or a career to speak of, Kade and I will be more than okay. Eventually I dare to hope, again, for happiness, even partnership. I dare to hope that eventually Kade and I will afford our own little place, even save up for a small house someday. Even though these changes have been painful and heart wrenching and just plain hard, I am grateful for them, and, minus a few details mostly around money, happy in the place we are at.
My gradual change from selfish college hippy brat to single professional working mother has been a hard, bumpy, occasionally even joyous road. Not a day goes by that I do not tell Kade that I love him, that I don't kiss and hug and tickle him into giggles, that I don't see that huge, utterly satisfied smile on his face. We play peekaboo and watch Thomas and read books and run around the house like crazy people and brush each other's hair, my brown locks and his fine silver-blonde strands.
1 comment:
It sounds like you are doing a wonderful job as a mom! and good luck at the new office job! xx
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