Not just another Friday

The glowing red bars of the clock on my desk read 4:58pm. No need today to worry about staying late or putting in extra hours. And not ever again, if I was brave enough to do what I so badly wanted to. I turned back to my computer screen and felt a pang of anxiety - had I copied all of my files onto CD? Had I missed something that I would have need for later? Then I relaxed and smiled to myself. There was nothing here anymore that I would need. Or want.

"It's about that time, isn't it?", asked my co-worker from over top of our shared cubicle wall. "Does it feel strange to know you're not coming back for a while?"

I shrugged and answered, "No, not really. I don't think it's sunk in yet." All the while thinking silently that it's going to be for more than just a while. But I couldn't say so. Not yet.

Another glance at the clock revealed the magic numbers - 5:00 pm. Exactly. Time to go. I sat up straight in my chair and stretched. Then took one final look around. Files neatly stacked and sorted, for others to grab as needed. My books and pencils, photos of my kids - all ready and waiting for my supposed return. Although there was always a chance that I would indeed return, so I'd decided that it was a good idea to leave everything here for now. Just in case.

Shrugging into my heavy winter coat, I snapped off the light underneath my flip-up cabinet and collected my purse, gloves, empty lunch tote and the shoes that I quickly slipped off. Putting on my boots was a bit more of a challenge that required the dexterity of a gymnast - something I had never had to begin with and that was almost completely beyond my capability at the moment. But I was used to it and maneuvered them onto my feet with minimal difficulty. There. Nothing left to do but say good-bye and leave. For the last time, I hoped.

My co-workers and friends sent me off with well wishes and last minute predictions for when my life would, for the third time, change completely in one heart-stopping moment when I would gaze into this baby's eyes. As if to agree, the being within gently stretched a limb (hand? foot?) and I smiled as I pushed back a silent hello to the occupant within my womb.

No fanfare accompanied my exit from the office or the ride in the quiet elevator down 3 stories to the ground. I gazed around the building lobby at the familiar waterfall, through the double doors to the coffee shop where I had spent portions of my earnings on bagels, apple juice and assorted confections of gooey chocolate goodness, and at the posters of strange yet eerily pleasing hair styles plastered against the windows of the salon next to the elevator. Oddly enough, for a moment I felt almost homesick. I hadn't thought I would miss this place, but some part of me surely would. And the people - certainly I would miss them. Or at least some of them.

Just go, I told myself - there's no need to drag this out and get all emotional. It's just a job. Just a place to come and earn money to support your family. And yet, a slight twinge of fear accompanied this thought - just a bit of doubt crowding the anticipation that I felt for what I hoped would be my new life at home. Giving up the reliability of a steady paycheck and benefits like health care for the uncertainty of starting my own business - this had been a hard choice to make. But one we hoped would be the right one for me. For us. For our family.

As I crunched through the crusty snow to my van, I looked ahead, not back - toward the future that I hoped would be bright. To the new life to come soon and the family that this baby would join. At something that I had wanted, wished for, hoped could happen since I had gazed into my first baby's eyes.

Oh yes, this day was an end to one phase of my life - but only the beginning to another. Not merely another Friday, but a very special Friday. The one that led me on the path to where I am today, through the bad decisions (a lot of them) and the good (worth all the bad for sure). And although my dream of staying home only lasted a short while, I treasured every extra moment that I was able to spend with my children and would not trade it for anything - not even the safe route, the secure job that I left that day as the glowing red numbers changed and I said good-bye.

This post was written as a submission for the December Write-Away Contest over at Scribbit, on the theme of "My favorite day".

Who am I?

When I was a child, I thought I would never grow up.

Adults were something to be respected or maybe even feared - after all they had all the answers and knew everything. In my childish awe and naiveté, I could not imagine ever becoming one of them.

I can remember in high school, when 'grown ups' who were 22 or 23 years old seemed so mature and wise to me.

Even when I first began working during college and afterward, I was always the youngest in the office or department, watching those with seniority, learning as much as I could. Never believing that I could ever be so respected or so full of knowledge.

When did I cross the line between being a kid, a 'young person', a youngster or a 'Miss'? From wearing cute, trendy clothes and listening to the freshest, most 'hip' music? From spending hours reading books, or wandering the mall and buying things 'on a whim'?

I look back on myself as a child and wonder how I could ever have been so intimidated by adults. It's amusing how young the 22 and 23 year olds seem nowadays - can these 'kids' really be out on their own, living their lives already?

No longer the 'youngest', but now looked to as an authority or the 'experienced' one in the department at work - laughing to myself at how little these 'newbies' seem to know.

I walk through the mall and watch the teenagers congregate in packs, giggling and eying the boys, and am confused by how strange the clothes have gotten - how can they wear such tight, revealing, confusing styles or listen to music with more bass than lyrics? Window shopping, I pass by the music and book stores to check out the latest department store sales and anxiously count my pennies.

Now I am the one saying 'no' and defeating childish dreams and whims. Making decisions that will affect the course of their lives. Signing medical forms and report cards and - since when are my children's teachers younger than me? How can it be almost 20 years since I last wore the blue and white of my high school with pride?

I have had a drivers license for more than half of my life. Been living away from my parents for as long as I lived with them. I now have as many years of experience as the boss who mentored me 10 years ago. And (sadly) as much gray hair as brown...

I am "Ma'am", not "Miss", not a youngster or 'hip'. From the moment my first child was born, I became responsible for a life not my own. And even though I see the things of my youth fading away and have to admit that somewhere along the line I did indeed 'grow up', I would not trade who I am right now for anything in the world.

I am Mom.

Even if sometimes I still don't feel like I'm anywhere near grown-up enough to be!


This post was written as a submission for the November Write-Away Contest at Scribbit on the topic of "My life is different because of...".

Powered by ScribeFire.

I am grateful for my children...

• Because how else would I know that mermaids can wear wings or that monkeys can wear boots and talk and sing?

• Because I never really did want a clean, clutter-free house, right?
  
  
• Because all of my good clothes look best when smeared with ketchup, drool or snot.
  
  
• Because it's more fun to dress my kids up in cute little clothes than myself.
  
  
• Because I always wanted to be the tooth fairy and Santa Claus.
  
  
• Because my idea of a perfect Saturday afternoon involves sitting in the hot sun or cold wind watching my child kick the ball one time out of an hour-long soccer game.
  
  
• Because I always wanted to try doing ponytails or braids on a head of hair that I could actually see.
  
  
• Because I have met some wonderful people through my kids' daycare, preschool and school.
  
  
• Because wet, sticky kisses from little faces are the best way to brighten up a gloomy day.
  
  
• Because why would I want to be able to walk through my house without stepping on 6 blocks, 4 stuffed animals, 3 cheerios and a board book?
  
  
• Because there is nothing like hearing "Mommy's here!" and getting bear hugs from little girls at the end of a long work day.
  
  
• Because my kids made my mom a Grandma.
  
  
• Because who needs to be a size 10 anymore anyway? Or a 12 or 14 for that matter...
  
  
• Because little girls are very ticklish. And have belly buttons that are so much fun to blow raspberries into.
  
  
• Because they give me an excuse to need to drive a minivan.

And because I love watching them learn, seeing pieces of myself and my husband in them and having someone to take trick-or-treating on Halloween.

Not to mention all of that lovely candy to steal watch them eat! :)


This post was written as a submission for the November Group Writing Project at MamaBlogga on the topic of "I am grateful for my child(ren) because...".


Powered by ScribeFire.

My two jobs

I have two full-time jobs.

One of them requires me to work 40 hours a week. The other requires me to work 168+ hours a week.

One of them pays me in dollars for my time and expenses. The other one pays me in smiles and laughter and includes thousands of dollars a year of expenses that are not reimbursable.

One of them offers benefits such as medical and life insurances. The other offers benefits such as hugs, kisses, and "I love you's".

I get "paid time off" for one of them. There are no sick or 'vacation' days from the other.

I have two full-time jobs.

At one of them, my title is "GIS Analyst". At the other, my title and name is "Mommy".

Being a GIS Analyst - is what I do for a living. Being a Mommy - is who I am.


This post was written as a submission for the September Group Writing Project at MamaBlogga.