My Baby Has Friends!

There are two primary reasons that I'm the worst blogger ever lately. One is that I'm busy finishing up my last semester towards my graduate degree through the University of Oklahoma, and quite frankly there's a lot to do!


Second, there's been sun lately. SUN! The big yellow ball in the sky has been uninhibited by those pesky clouds and their rain. Caleb has actually worn SHORTS to school this week. Unbelievable. As a result, we've spent way more time outside at the playground than usual.


Don't get me wrong, we're still in England. A week ago we had a miserably cold and rainy day. Well, cold for May anyway. But the rainy days are becoming less and less common and the sun has been a good friend of ours lately. Hone sly, it's enough to make me sing. Bring on the Fresh Prince, put an umbrella in my drink, and find me my flip flops! It's parochially summer in the UK! At least for today. I'm sure that will change tomorrow.


So the most precious thing ever happened yesterday after work. Dinner was done, and we were relaxing upstairs when I heard someone knock on our front door. As I approached the door, I could tell it was the neighbor kids, so I assumed a ball had popped into our backyard and the wanted permission to retrieve it. Instead they asked if Caleb could come out and play! Well technically they asked if I was going to bring Caleb out to play, but all the same.


My baby has friends! Like actual neighborhood kids that come to ask for him at the door!


I was already in my pajamas, but I rushed upstairs to change so we could go hangout at the playground with Caleb's new buddies. Of course, they are all a good bit older than him (ranging from 3 to 8.) They all love him because he's the "baby." They get to push him on the swing, help him up the jungle gym, and hold his hand as they run around. Caleb loves the attention and the silly things they'll do to make him laugh.


In other news, Caleb is learning so much. New words include moon, rock, Manny (as in Handy Manny) and money (he likes putting money in his piggy bank.) I think he's trying to say "doggie" finally. He's been calling them "deedees" forever, it was one of his first words. Now he calls them "debbies" occasionally, with I think is a transition to doggies. He no longer calls cars "beep beeps," but actually calls them cars, (which sounds more like "cah.") He can do baby sign language for dog, frog, bird and his favorite, horse.


(On a side note, it makes me sad a bit when he graduates from his baby words to big people words.)

Also: Caleb has said his first sentence! He now says "I see you!" which sounds like "Ahtheeoo!" whenever we play peek-a-boo.


Oh, and he's a monkey. He climbs on ANYTHING. I found him STANDING in my window sill the other day! Like he's stinking Peter Pan coming to teach Wendy to fly! We've had to start putting a dining room chair in the middle of the living room for him to climb on. He does better climbing without the table to get in his way.


And I guess that's about it! I should be completely done with my classes, comps and internship come the end of July or so. Until then, I'm just plugging away trying to wrap things up!

Happy Mother's Day!

Today started off lovely, got better from there, took a bit of a nose dive around dinner time, but corrected itself into a pretty good day.

Caleb is cutting his last canine tooth, and as a result wakes up 2-4 times a night screaming and hasn't slept past 5 am in at least three days. Ugh. My husband was very kind this morning and took that early morning shift with Sir Crabby Pants while I slept in to the luxurious hour of 7 am. (Seriously. Remember when sleeping in didn't count until you had slept till at least 11, preferably 12?)

Caleb and I were ready for church early, so we headed to the playground while Tommy got ready.

By the way, for grins and giggles, here is Caleb on Mother's Day last year. What a marshmellow!

After church, we went to downtown Thetford to enjoy the beautiful weather and to have lunch at Red Pepper, a delicious Thai Food restaraunt with fantastic Pad Thai. Caleb enjoyed his chicken skewers. I love that he's still at an age where he'll try almost anything (when he feels like it.) I hope he stays this way.

Then we stopped by Argos to order some things we've been eyeing for a while. There's really no good US comparison for Argos. It's a store front with very little on display. Instead, you leaf through their latest catelogue, present the cashier with the item numbers for whatever you want, and then wait until they bring your item to another counter.

We picked up this awesome pot rack. I had seen one in my friend Tina's house and have been wanting one ever since. Now it's not so darn crowded in my cookware cabinet! I seriously love this thing. Hooray for creative storage options!

We also picked up a grill. We actually have a grill that we like, but we've had so many issues getting it sorted with a British propane tank (you have to use a really annoying adapter for US grills that never seems to work), that we decided it would be best to get a cheap British grill for the next two summers. Tommy took a nap, so Caleb decided to help me put the grill together. As you can imagine, he was more of a liability than a good assistant, but at least he was cute.

All of the hard work really knocked Caleb out.

I was super impressed that I managed to assemble the grill all by myself (well, with Caleb), but disappointed to realize the tiny propane tank we had for the American grill was out of gas. No sweat! I hopped in the car and searched Thetford for a gas station that sold propane tanks. Four gas stations later, I found a tank! After a quick stop at Tesco express for some cheese and rolls, I was on my way home, eagerly anticipating burgers!

Unfortunately, a new grill + a new propane tank did not = burgers. The propane tank doesn't seem to fit the grill valve! I seriously don't get it. Do we have the wrong tank? Do we need some sort of adapter? Why won't this fit?! By this point, I was so irriated. I had been craving Pioneer Woman's Favorite Burgers, and it seemed like nothing we did could make our Summer of Grilling dreams come true.

In the end, I finally just fried up the burger in a skillet. And they were good. But not grilled good. Still good, though.

So here's my trouble shooting section. Any and all thoughts are appreciated! We have a British grill and British propane tank. Here is the tank, just after we purchased it. Is it odd that there's no valve to turn it on and off? You just remove that orange cap (which was a bit trickier than I thought it would be).

Here is it with the cap removed. I wish I had gotten a better picture of the inside of top, but it's too dark now.

And here's the valve from the grill. That black switch on the left turns to lock the valve in place.

No matter what we tried, though, we can not get the valve to latch and lock. It feels like it just doens't fit. Should we buy a new tank and hope that it's the right kind? Or should we search for some kind of adapter? Or should we just throw our hands in the air and realize our fate of non-grillers as long as we're in the UK?

HELP!

Hello, there.

Oof. I'm a bad blogger. I've been taking lengthy blog vacations out of sheer laziness. My mental justification for this is that I'd rather not blog at all than blog out of obligation. Because surely those will be some boring blogs.

Quick update on Zeus: he's FINE. He's so fine, he's back up to his peak of obnoxious affection and attention-seeking. He's trying desperately to get into more trouble, but is not given enough opportunities to find trouble any more. I can't afford another leg break. Or anything else for that matter.

Zoey, on the other hand, had some derriere issues this week. I won't gross you out with the details (and I promise, they are disgusting), but a round of antibiotics and some help from our local vet have sent her on the path to recovery.

Honestly, these dogs are killing me softly with vet bills.

In other news, Caleb turned 18 months old a week ago today! Holy moly, we're on the downhill slope towards 2 years old. Aaayyeee! He got his 18 month old shots, and clearly he's figured out what the immunization room at the Peds clinic is all about. Because he started fussing as soon as we got there, and when we dropped his jeans, he went into a proper fit. Fun! But he survived. Here he is in the waiting room at the Peds clinic. Look how blonde he is in this pic!

And he got another haircut. This time, we visited Jazzy D's in Thetford, which has a kid's only salon near the train station. Caleb got to fly a plane while getting his hair cut, and was rewarded with a lollipop, which he promptly dropped into a pile of his freshly cut hair. In the words of Caleb, "Mm!"

We took a trip to Banham Zoo today. Caleb ate it up. He's at the age where he wants to identify and label everything (the Adam Complex, my dad said), so he really enjoyed seeing birds ("buh!") and piggies ("peepees!") and sheep ("see! baaa!") and lions ("raaa!"). It was raining when we initially set out for the zoo, so we took him to our local indoor play zone for an hour, and then spent a good two and a half hours at the zoo, so he was completely knackered when we left. In fact, I need to wake him up soon. He's been sleeping for more than three hours! (Very unusual for my boy who rarely naps more than an hour.)

This is Caleb and Tommy looking at some leopards in the zoo. He also loved the giraffes!

It's absolutely amazing to see how much he's learning now. He can say so many stinking words. Some of his favorites are:

• bus
• bath ("bass")
• fish ("iss")
• juice ("deuce")
• socks ("saw")
• car (which sounds exactly like clock, "cah")
• bubbles ("buh-boos")
• walk ("wah")
• ride ("rye")
• outside ("ow-sy")
• apple ("ah-poo")
• banana ("nana")

And he's becoming a big fan of letting you know when he needs a diaper change. A friend of our watched him last night while we went out for Thai food. When we picked him up, she said he told her "I poo-pee" when he was in fact needing a fresh diaper. What a clever little tot!

He's seriously so FUNNY, too. He dances, spins, jumps, runs and just generally loves to have a good time. And he thinks everything he does is hilarious, so by default, it is hilarious! It's hard not to laugh when a toddler laughs. Even when he's getting into trouble. Oy.

Well, I guess a long blog makes up for a long absence, right? I'll try not to wait so long next time! Before I go, though, one more pic of Caleb and his girlfriend Lillian. Suddenly Caleb's into holding hands...with everyone but me! He's too big for momma. *Sob!* Oh well, at least he's got good taste in women! ;)

Poor Pup, Revisted

Do you ever wonder if a traumatic event will change a person? If their personality will be effected by the outcome of a particular situation?

My dog Zeus broke his front right leg earlier this week on Saint Patrick's Day. It's been a stressful and crazy week as a result, and I wondered how Zeus would behave after his necessary surgery to repair the fracture.

Well, having picked up my healing pup this morning from Christchurch Vets in Ipswich, I can confidently say that you can remove Zeus from mischief, but in no way, shape or form can you you remove the mischief from Zeus, even surgically. Despite a slight slow down, Zeus seems just as eager to be up and running and getting into trouble as ever before. The trouble is, I have to keep him calm and relatively still while his leg heals for the next 6-12 weeks!

This all began Tuesday night as I was giving Caleb a bath and Tommy was on his computer. Zeus had wandered down stairs, likely to stir up some trouble looking for remaining food since we had just finished dinner. Out of nowhere, we heard that awful yelping of a dog in extreme pain. At the bottom of the stairs, Zeus was cowering with his paw dangling in a precarious way from his leg. Now I'm no doctor or vet, but I knew there was no way that paw should be hanging that way.

Our local vet in Thetford was closed for the night, so I rushed him to their sister location in Bury St Edmunds where the vet told me, "That is broken!" She was worried that there was nerve and ligament damage as well, but the X-Ray the next day showed that it was only a bone fracture. Zeus stayed overnight, but the vet told us the next day that we should take him to a doggy orthopedic surgeon in Ipswich.

(Quick pop quiz: What's the worst way to discover that pet insurance is important? Answer: A visit to an veterinarian orthopedic specialist! Yikes! Between the two and half days at our vet and the day and a half at the specialist, we had to kiss good-bye to our trip to Paris and Belgium over the next few months as we forked over £1,000 to save Zeus' leg. Eek! At the end of the day, I'm glad we were able to save my pooch's leg, but MAN, I am done poo-pooing pet insurance!)

Both the vet in Bury and the vet surgeon in Ipswich were great. Zeus was in great hands, and his surgery went well. He was a hit with all the nurses. They had to place two plates on his leg to fuse the bone together, and they actually used the same kind of plates you'd use for human fingers because Zeus' bones are so small.

The vet in Ipswich was super cool and gave me images of Zeus' X-Rays at my request. Since Zeus's leg was repaired with a plate, he doesn't need a cast or even a splint anymore. He has wound dressing on his leg, of course, but no external support. So here for your viewing approval are images of Zeus' fracture and repair!

Ouch!!

Zeus is doing well. I picked him up this morning, and he is on strict crate rest for at least four weeks. He can only be let out if he's taking a potty break (on leash, only in the back yard) or if he's going to be in our laps for a bit (and he's gotten plenty of that today!)

The problem with Zeus is that even though he's sore and a bit off, he's still Zeus. As soon as I saw him in the vet's arms today, he practically jumped right out of his arms and ran to me. My husband says he doesn't think Zeus has learned anything from the event, and he may be right. I fully expect him to be digging up trouble as soon as he's able.

Unfortunately for Zeus his break comes right as we're having a patch of great weather! And for the next few weeks, I have to keep a very high strung dog as still as possible and keep a very active 17 month old from messing with the dog while he heals. Sounds easy right? Sheesh.

Welcome home, Zeus! At least while you're on crate rest, I don't have to worry about you digging in the trash or eating dirty diapers or scouring my bag for Caleb's snacks! Take it easy bud, and feel better soon!

My

Yesterday, during our ritual early morning cuddle session on the glider, Caleb pointed to a picture of my husband that was on a shelf above us. I pulled down the picture and asked Caleb, "Who's that?"

Caleb replied, "My Dada!"

My Dada! He's stringing together words! Actual words. Not just adorable babble-y noises, but putting together two legitimate words to make more sense out of them both. My Dada! Needless to say, I was thrilled. What a smart little cookie!

Today, he dropped the Dada.
Everything is now just "My!" I guess he can't quite formulate the whole "Mine!" but he certainly understands the concept. Everywhere we went today, everything was "My!" I had a late start at work this morning, and Caleb and I grabbed lunch at the cafe inside the Enlisted Club on one of the bases today. After a few minutes of him chewing and spitting out his pancakes followed by him throwing his tater tots everywhere, I figured he wasn't hungry and removed his food from his reach. At which point he seemed to grow Go-Go-Gadget arms and an internal megaphone as he reached for the missing tots and began to yell, "My! My! MY! MY! MYYYYY!"

Oh, my.

It was definitely a case of realizing that a new word is not necessarily a good word. That little single syllable which sounded so adorable in front of "Dada" is so much more powerfully annoying all on its own. Truly, he is a toddler in every sense of the word now.

And I know this is only the beginning. Right now he's mostly saying it because he enjoys the sound of it. But soon, soon my friends, he will be imbued with that heady sense of ownership of all things that toddlers seem to posses. It's bad enough I have to share the bathroom with him now, can't I eat my 100 calorie cookies in peace?!

My guess is no.

Where a Kid Can Be a Kid

Let me just say this up front: This has been the semester of the slack. I've done some of my worst slacking in years, and certainly my worst slacking in my graduate career. I guess that's the problem with doing an accellerated degree program: everything happens faster, even the onset of apathy.

Of course, this is also the semester I started back to work for the first time since Caleb was born. So I guess I can blame some of my laziness on that. I am far busier than I have been, that's for sure. But honestly, that's only been a pea sized peice of the problem. The primary issue has been my own innate laziness and preference for internet networking sites over homework. My lack of blogging has not indicated a lack of internet time wastedness.

(By the way, have you noticed that I've added a Twitter app to the left hand side of my blog? My internet pal Micah calls this micro-blogging. So even if I don't have the time and energy for a full post, I can still bore you to peices with the mundane happenings of my life. Sweet!)

Okay, long intro. Happy Fat Tuesday! I know all my family in New Orleans are living it up today and celebrating Mardi Gras. We had a Mardi Gras-themed potluck at work today. Someone brought jambalaya, someone else brought dirty rice. I should have brough red beans and rice, but there seemed to be a lot of rice-based dishes already, so I brought Cajun-inpsired meatballs, complete with hot sauce and Tony Chachere's (which is clearly the best Cajun seasoning EVER. No question.)

Caleb is adjusting very well to day care. He still cries from time to time when we drop him off, but he always does well the rest of the day. He's one of the best eaters in the class, often taking seconds and thirds of whatever they're dishing up (and sometimes fourths! What a chubbers) He loves fruit, any and all fruit. He loves the fish tank in his class, but he hates art projects that involve dirtying his hands. He totally takes after his father in this respect. He's also doing better at not eating as many crayons, but you have to watch him on this one!

He's also learning So. Stinking. MUCH! He's trying hard to form words that he can't pronounce yet. He can certianly identify and label things, and he has his own versions for words. (Dogs are still "didi"s, apples are "AH-bees", and shoes are "iss!") My husband has also taugh him "boobies." Yes, boobies. My son now lifts my husband shirt, points at his chest and says, "beebees?" He's a bad influence, my husband.

He LOVES reading. It's never enough to read just one book, we must exhaust his bookshelf. He really loves books featuring dogs and balls, and he's a huge fan of Good Night Moon, which has had to be glued back together once already. He also loves books about fish and anything with flaps he can open to discover what's hiding.

He's becoming more and more of a toddler in every sense of the word. Beyond the discovery and playfulness, he's getting a little attitude. He doesn't like his car seat any more, he doesn't want to hold my hand when we're walking half the time, and he insists on feeding half his meals to the dogs, even if the dogs aren't in the room. He will very vocally let me know if he's not thrilled with the administration's policies on bed time and juice consumption. He's really, truly a boy in that he loves balls and hitting things, (including the dogs from time to time, who are so patient with him while we teach him what "soft touches" are.)

I know I say this at every age, but I really do LOVE this age. He's so curious and clever and funny and FUN. I love being around him, because it's a great excuse to let myself be a kid, to read in loud and expressive voices, to make silly faces, to blow bubbles at least three times a day, and to get down on the ground a just play. This is one of my favorite parts about being a parent: permission to be a kid.

Okay, well that is more than enough for one day. Later this week, I need to blog about our trip to Warwick Castle on President's Day. But for now, I'm going to get back to my class reading, and then it's time to sleep!

Good morning, sun.

Well, shoot.

Apparently I accidentally changed the time on my alarm clock last night when I was trying to set it. Because instead of getting up at 5:45 this morning, I got up at 4:45. Only I didn't realize this until I had already showered, gotten dressed, done my hair and make up, woke up Caleb and gotten him dressed to.

Shoot.

Anyway, I've been wanting to updated my blog for a bit, but frankly haven't had the time. I guess this is what it'll take to get it updated these days, accidentally waking up early.

Which brings me to an important question. Which is worse: accidentally waking up early, or accidentally sleeping in? If you wake up early and don't realize it until too late, you can't go back to bed and have to find something else to fill your time. On the other hand, you can try and get stuff done and actually have breakfast for once.

If you sleep in, you generally wake up in a panic, try to get all your normal stuff done in a tiny amount of time, and probably get in trouble for showing up to work late (depending on how late you sleep.) But on the other hand, you also managed to sneak in a little extra sleep. Although I suppose you lose the gratification for extra sleep in the panic of trying to get ready. So I guess waking up early is better.

Okay, back to updates. Work is going well. I feel very comfortable back in my old job and my new coworkers have been great. I like being the part-time teller because I get some half days here and there, which allows me to run errands and try to do homework.

Caleb is adjusting well to day care. He had a rough first week, but I suppose that is normal. Yesterday the teacher said he had a really good day. He only cried when we dropped him off and not at all the rest of the day. In fact yesterday was the first day he didn't cry when I picked him up. He was at the window playing with a toy, and when he heard my voice, he turn around with a huge smile and ran up to me with open arms! Ahhhh! I LOVED it! The teachers all say what a good eater he is (really, the boy can pack it away!) although he still getting used to his new napping schedule. (He goes down about 3 hours earlier than he's used to.) I do find that he goes to bed MUCH easier than he used to. No fussing or crying. I put him in bed and give him a kiss, and he says, "Ni ni!" and rolls over and goes to sleep! Awesome!

School is...going. It's harder than I anticipated staying on top of my school work now that I'm back to work. I didn't calculate the fact that I'd have to go to bed a lot earlier than I'm used to, which cuts into my homework time. So I'm trying to make the best of my half days and catch up. Although I think it'll be another week or two before I'm really back on top of my game. In the mean time, all I can do is try my best to accomplish a little every night. I keep reminding myself I only have one more class and then my comps (comprehensive exams) in June and I'll be done. Not much longer now.

So that's about it! Well, now it's time for me to brush my teeth and get on my way. Hope you have a great day!

Two Years

This will be a quick one, because I'm technically doing homework. No, really! I am! Promise. But every student needs a break now and again, right?

So, yesterday was our 2 year anniversary in England. I know this because I wrote it on my calendar. I'm a nerd about remembering things like that. I always privately observe work anniversaries, even small ones. I wish my dogs a happy birthday every year. (Incidentally, I'm late this year. Zeus and Zoey turned 6 on January 12th. Happy Birthday, poochies!) And yesterday, I did take a moment to remember our arrival in England two years ago.

I can still vividly remember getting off the plane into Gatwick airport and thinking, "Oh. This is it?" (Gatwick, and Heathrow for that matter, are rather ugly airports. Give me Atlanta or Detroit any day. Gatwick and Heathrow can go join Chicago O'Hare in the ugliest airport category.) I remember the two hour bus ride from the airport to the base and being so excited that I was finally in England. The country side looked so English! The sky was so gray! The air was so damp! And at that time, I thought that was quaint and exciting! In fact, it all was. Driving on the other side of the road, paying in pounds, learning to dial international numbers. It was all so exciting.

Of course, two years later, the excitement is gone. But in its place is a comfortable feeling that this is my home for now. It won't always be, but it is for now. And so I get frustrated that the intersection near my house isn't a roundabout. (Honestly, there's so much traffic for the high school I can't get out some mornings. Dear council, put in a roundabout!) And I know where the speed cameras are and to pay and display at most car parks. I know which radio stations are worth listening to and where to get fish and chips within walking distance. I have my own preferences when it comes to off-base shopping (hello, Tesco and Matalan!) And I'm resigned to not having a dishwasher for now and having to drag my dryer into the middle of the kitchen to vent it out the window on laundry day.

This is my home. And I'm happy. I miss the States, sure. I miss Famous Dave's and Target. I miss American Chinese food (oooh, crab rangoon, how I miss you!) I miss straight roads and adequate parking on residential roads. And mostly I miss family and friends.

But I felt really luck to be embarking on this adventure two years ago. And I still feel lucky to be hanging out in the Queen's country for a while longer. So here's to two more years of watching the original Deal or No Deal and watching American commercials dubbed over in an English accent! Cheers! (So much for a short entry, right? Okay, back to homework!)

It's All Coming Back, All Coming Back To Me Now..

I feel surprisingly calm tonight. What could have been a very chaotic and stressful day was pretty smooth and uneventful. And I'm so thankful for that.

Today was my first day back to work in 16 months. I had forgotten the thing I dislike the most about working isn't work itself, it's getting up early every morning and attempting to get out of the house on time. The latter part of that equation is, of course, complicated by trying to get Caleb up and ready and out of the house with me.

Caleb went to bed an hour early last night, but that didn't stop him from giving me the "What the heck are we doing up so early?" glare when I got him up at 6:20 this morning. After I got him dressed and ready, I put on Bear in the Big Blue House on TV so I could get my last minute preparations together. Thing were going well, I was on time. And then I went to put on Caleb's coat and discovered that he had engaged in a total bowel blowout that went straight through his diaper and messed up not just his shirt, but also his jeans. Typical of a first morning, right?

Well, luckily that was the biggest hiccup of the day (if you don't count the fact that I sat on the teller line for at least an hour with an open zipper. But hey, at least the customers couldn't see that!) We managed to get out on time, but not before I snapped a few pictures of my big boy on his first day of "school."

His drop off went well. He got there just in time for breakfast, I handed over his supplies and changes of clothes to the care taker, gave him a kiss and a hug, and went on my way. And I felt fine. Of course there was a twinge of sadness because I've spent the last 15 months with Caleb almost every hour of the day, and I knew I would miss him. But I didn't have the emotional meltdown I anticipated. There were a few slower times at work that I could really feel the pull of missing my baby boy, but I still managed to hold it together. (If you know how easy it is to topple my tower, emotionally speaking, you'll be impressed!)

Work itself was great! Totally like getting back on a bike. In the words of Celine Dion, "It was so long ago, but it's all coming back to me now!" I forgot a few things, but a lot of it was pretty natural. It was a steady enough day without being really busy, which was perfect for my first day back. Just enough work to give me a taste of things I had forgotten, but not so much that I got overwhelmed. And my drawer balanced! (At one point, there was real concern that it wouldn't, and I kept saying, "I won't be that teller! I won't be the teller who doesn't balance on her first day!" Luckily, we found the error, and I wasn't that teller. Stupid rolled quarters!)

Tommy picked up Caleb and we had dinner together at the bowling alley on base while we watch our new President get sworn in. I love big historic moments like inaugurations. (Incidentally, I keep accidentally calling it his "coronation," a true sign I'm living in England!) Tommy said the care giver told him Caleb had a few crying bouts throughout the day, but was generally easily distracted by a toy or activity. I'm sure it'll take some adjustment for him, but I know he'll be fine in the end.

Class was great! The teacher is genuinely funny and disarming. I really enjoyed it. There's a lot of classmates I know from previous classes, which is always fun. I'm looking forward to the rest of the week. We talked about some interesting aspects of genetics and personality and coping mechanisms tonight that really got my mind working. I'd love to blog about it, but this was supposed to be a MINI-update. Ha. Right. I'm so bad at small blogs.

Anyway, I just feel so peaceful and calm right now. I'm excited about the opportunities I've taken and am looking forward to see where they take me in the next weeks and months.

Hi Ho, Hi Ho, It's Back to Work I Go

Oh, boy. I'm nervous.

I'm returning to work on Tuesday for the first time since Caleb was born. And I do mean returning, as I'm going back to the credit union I worked for while I was pregnant. I'll be starting off as a part-time teller and going from there.

Caleb has a spot at the Child Development Center on base and starts the same day I go back to work. We met the assistant director and his room leader yesterday. The room he's in is so very cute and fun, and we like the two care givers we met. Caleb had a ton of fun in the 20 minutes we were there. Our orientation with the director was very reassuring. We learned a lot about the policies and procedures in place that made us feel comfortable.

I've been looking for a job for a couple of months, and now that it's happening, it feels so fast! I feel ready on one hand, and on the other hand I wonder if I'll ever be truly ready. I feel so blessed that I've been able to spend the first 15 months of Caleb's life hanging out with him every day. I know it's going to be a challenging transition to leave him at day care, probably more so for me than for him. I'm fortunate that he doesn't really seem to have any separation anxiety, so this is probably a good time for this transition. But even if this is the perfect time for this change, I know I'll probably be a blubbering mess on Tuesday morning. (And yet, I think, even if I waited until he want to Kindergarten to send him off on his own, I'd still be a blubbering mess, right?)



Anyway, I'm nervous and excited about returning to work, but most of it has to do with Caleb going into day care. It's kind of nice to be returning to a company I've already worked for, although it will certainly present its own challenges this time around. I'll be working at a different branch on a different base with different management and different coworkers. But it's nice to know I'll have a much quicker learning curve that I would have at a brand new job. I won't be completely clueless on my first day.

Knowing I'll be more comfortable on my first day of work is also reassuring because I'll be starting one of my six day on-site classes the same night. So on Caleb's' first day in day care, and my first day back at work, I'll have to clock out and go straight to class for the first four nights, and then a full day on Saturday and Sunday. Uggh. I'm not looking forward to this AT ALL. I know I'll probably go nuts, but that's just the way it's worked out, unfortunately. I just keep reminding myself that it's only 6 days long, and then I can work on getting settled in and being less crazy.

Until then, I'm trying to enjoy my last days at home with Caleb and get all my homework done for class! Wish me luck!