mainsqueeze's Diaryland
Diary
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Reaching
Where is all of the time going? I did not realize that having babies was like hitting fast forward, days flying by almost faster than I can handle. Elliott is five months old, cutting teeth and rolling over and learning how to grab onto this and that. He is fascinated with food and tries to take cups from Chris and I when we eat dinner. I get a little misty when it hits me that he will be a CHILD sooner than I think, but I am glad the newborn days are done. Those are scary times. I am confident now that I know what his cries mean, how to put him to sleep, how to make him smile. We have successfully navigated through first illness (UTI), first bad-parenting incident (I let him roll off the sofa), and many "am I making enough food" scares. Coming up to his first Christmas soon. I thought about Nicole all day about a week ago and remembered how, after she had T, I kept staring at her in awe and saying, "OH MY GOD YOU'RE A MOM." Wonder if she would feel the same way seeing me now.
The semester is almost over and I am sure my grades will not be what I hoped for but I have reached a point where GPA is less important than holding the degree. I am ready to be done with school for awhile. The baby sleeps and I do homework, and he wakes up, I stop and tend to him and to the house and to my job and then, after all of those things are done, I try to finish up assignments. Wish I could have told 20 year old Angela how much easier it would have been to get school out of the way before responsible adulthood was unavoidable.
I am happy with my new job, so far. It is hard work and there is not much time for socializing, but after eight hours, I go home and my phone doesn't ring and I am free of the place until my next shift. I miss the good pay of my last job, but I don't miss my bosses or the endless bullshit. I don't miss watching my back and constantly worrying about whether or not I'd have a job the next week. I don't miss worrying about whether my hair was a little too messy or whether or not I just seemed out of place. The people at my new job are all younger and cooler than I am. They are tattooed vegan hipsters, music buffs, disaffected. Part of me wants to tell them, I used to be punk rock, too, you know. And the rest of me is thankfully unconcerned with things like that anymore. I just want a happy life. So I work alongside these cool young kids and I am okay being the old lady because I am finally in a place where I can cultivate the parts of myself that working in a casino did not allow me to even share, let alone nurture. It sounds like it could potentially be bullshit but working in such a structured, corporate environment changed my personality in so many ways. It is not easy for me to create anymore, to write, paint, to have ideas. It takes effort to do the things that used to be so easy for me. I spent nearly ten years wearing the "work" persona-- a little distant, a little too serious, a little too concerned with being perceived as authoritative and professionally respectable-- and so it makes sense that it will take a little bit of time to loosen up again and enjoy being Angela again.
9:42 a.m. - 2011-11-13
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