Frustration and Cold Coffee

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Something has been itching in my brain these past few weeks.  It’s been making me feel restless and frustrated, and while having a brain-eating-worm might not be so much fun, at least there’d be a direct reason.  It’s most likely just the changing seasons.  You know, the warm days and chilly nights?  The beginning of fall/end of summer always seem to make me feel… like I said, itchy.  Twitchy.  Something.

 

Little Noodle is now officially a 1st grader.  My little girl rides the school bus, has recess and brings homework back in her new little backpack.  She seems to be having a lot of fun, and according to the email I received from her teach today, she’s doing great.  I’m definitely proud of her, and happy for her as well as a bit in shock.  When the hell did she turn 6?  When the hell did she become old enough for school (she was in private Kinder, it just didn’t hit home as much as now)?  Ahhh, the years of diaper changing and bottle washing are behind me… just like potty training.  There are many more years to enjoy, but I have a strong feeling that the other parents are right.  These years are just going to fly by.

 

So maybe that’s it.  Maybe it’s that I’m coming to the realization that my kid is not only growing up, but growing up quickly.

 

Work has been frustrating me, which is nothing entirely new.  The last couple months have had me wanting to tear my own hair out… or quit.  I still love my job, quite a bit actually.  I enjoy doing what I’m actually supposed to be doing, but lately it’s just been irritating to no end.  It seems like I end up picking up a lot of the slack, and while I admit I’m good at it, that doesn’t mean I want to do it.  It’s been hard lately, we have such a good team, but it still gets mucked up.  Just like I predicted, the office/shop seem to be spontaneously combusting.  I called it, I called it 8 weeks ago.  Hell, I even raised the warning flags to both my higher ups, but it’s still combusting at will.  The sad part is, is that I’m actually getting worn down.  It’s not that I can’t handle my job, because I most definitely can, but that combined with cleaning up after someone else’s mistakes, I’m making mistakes.  To know that someone else makes a good salary and bonuses, doing the literal job I wanted (since management removed the *one* thing I didn’t want to do) and manages to mess up enough to create twice the work for me pisses me off.

I guess the what *really* frustrates me about work, isn’t really all I just puked out above.  It’s that I’ve gone to management twice each now and nothing has changed.  It’s that I *know* other people have brought up problems, and no resolution has come about.  More importantly?  It’s that I swallowed all of my smart retorts, I did all the extra work, I smiled and taught/re-taught/re-re-taught when needed.  It’s that I did *MY* job for a whole two weeks and trusted someone else to take care of things and all I got out of it where a shit-ton of mistakes, pissed off stores and customers.  I had 2 weeks of glory, of only doing what I was supposed to be doing instead of fixing shiznit and double checking.  I figured sink or swim.  Well, that someone else sank but didn’t drown and now I’m stressed again.

I talked to my parents about this, and while my lovely step-ma agreed with me and came up with some wonderful ideas… I think my pops may have it more right.  “You can love a job, but it doesn’t matter, eventually you get a boss who is a moron screws up everything…and no one will listen.”  So while I’m valuing my step-ma’s advice (and actually putting some of it in motion), I’m heeding what my Dad had to say and keeping my options open. I’m glad I have a job, a job that deep down I love, but that doesn’t mean I am going to sit back and enjoy someone else running each day into the ground.

 

So that might be it too.  I get a headache just thinking about it.

 

Life at home is good though, thankfully.  I think I’d lose my mind otherwise.  Ryan and I hit our 2 year mark sometime last month (no, neither of us remember the date) and… well.. life is happy.  The house is shaping up and so is the yard, and my house is most definitely feeling like a home… like my sanctuary.  It’s amazing the difference in just living somewhere and living somewhere you have made into a home.  It’s one of the best feelings there is.  I’m very grateful that if I have a crappy day at work or anything negative for that matter, that I can come home and feel relieved.  I can kiss the boyfriend, pet the cat and dogs and snuggle my kid.  The kiddo is finally happy too, especially now that her bio-dad stopped popping in with random phone calls.   It sounds cold, but after another 5 months of not hearing from him, not a single peep about him from my kid, and seeing her smile and laugh, I am thrilled.  When he was calling before, her behaviour was rough and emotions crazy.  Now that it’s back to normal, she’s her happy self again!  I’m really hoping he realized how much he was hurting her before, because it was intense.  I was miffed when I found out this whole time he’s been out in CO, he’s actually been running around getting married and having another kid ( I mean, christ, he doesn’t pay for his other 2! ), but you know what?  Maybe he’s happy now and can finally let us be happy.  I hope so.

 

So, things are far from bad.  Just some stupid-shit at work mostly… but I don’t think that’s it.  I just feel antsy and almost stagnant.  I just have to find something else I want to tackle.  Improving my credit (and saving money) isn’t enough of an obstacle.  I think I just need to set some new goals to work towards, and find another way to deal with the stress from work so it continues to stay out of my home life.  Eh, I’ll come up with something.  Winter’s coming… that leaves a lot of time indoors to putter around and work towards goals.

 

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My Bitter Moment of the Day

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Today I am home with the kiddo, her tummy is upset and she didn’t get a whole lot of sleep. I picked her up from school yesterday, before she even got her jacket on she started complaining of her tummy hurting.  I didn’t think too much of it, “my tummy hurts” has become the most recent excuse to avoid trying something new at dinner.

Halfway home, her banter about how her day went cut off and a meek “I have to go to the bathroom” came out of the backseat.  “Honey, we’re about 2 minutes from home, you’ll have to hold it.”  “Okay” she said and the rest of the car ride was quiet.

We pulled into my driveway, and she opened her door right away.  As soon as she had two feet on the ground she bent over and threw up.  My mouth just dropped.  “See mom, that’s why I had to go to the bathroom.”  Pretty talented if you ask me, when I have to puke, I can’t hold it for 4 blocks.

So we got inside, with me hoping she just ate too much at snack time and she made it 2 minutes before she puked again.  She puked on and off all night and didn’t sleep too well when she did manage to sleep.  I got up with my alarm this morning at 4:45, checked on her and let my boss know that I couldn’t come in today.

I’m sitting on the couch, with a half asleep child laying next to me.  PBSkids on the tv and Noodle barely paying attention unless I go to change the channel at which she bolts awake and tells me “Mom! I’m watching that!”

She’s feeling a bit better this morning, the puking has stopped for the most part and she ate some dry cereal.  She’s just out of it and wants to relax.  Which is fine with me, we’ve been relaxing on the couch together and I’ve been getting some of the laundry done.  We’re going to try something light for lunch in a little bit.  Hopefully that goes well.

This last week has been rough on me for a multitude of reasons.  I haven’t been feeling well to top everything off, which just makes for a cranky me in general.  So each day, on my way to work I think about how everything has turned out.  I’m happy I suppose, but the grass is always greener.

– Regardless of my feelings now or anything else, I am glad I divorced A’s dad.  He wasn’t good for me, and I’m not so sure about for A either.  I am glad I took that step and I will never regret the action to have a safer, happier life.-

Life is stable over here finally.  Both Ryan and I have good jobs with steady paychecks, he likes his job which makes getting him up in the morning that much easier.  Noodle has a school in which she (and I) love, she has wonderful teachers and is thriving.

It just bugs me.  Up until a few months before my divorce, I was a stay at home mom.  In my family (this does not pertain to you, it’s not meant to offend you) it was important to me to be able to stay home with my kid(s).  I could have never predicted that my marriage would turn out the way it would and I’m lucky I’ve been employed since then, but shit.  I finally have a job with normal hours (I’ve been there for 2 years next month) so that makes life a little easier, but I’d still rather be at home and taking care of my kid.  I never thought I’d end up in the work force full-time, I always assumed that until A was out of the house, I’d be a part-timer so I could focus on her and our home.

So post-divorce I’m a working mother.  It’s just aggravating and I can feel my knuckles go white on that drive into the office.  It’s hard especially when shit at the office has been annoying me.  So I’m driving in to a job that makes me want to lobotomize myself, because of which my daughter goes to school 2 hours early and stays 1 hour late (6:30ish to 4:30ish) (which I realize isn’t as bad as it was before my schedule change but still).  I drive in to a job that I automatically lose 1/3 of my pay to the extra hours at daycare (the ex was ordered to pay half of school/daycare costs and child support, but that hasn’t happened since I was divorced in ’09). I drive into a job that I normally like, where I make decent pay (despite A’s school fees) but because of it, dinner becomes a chore, daycare spends more time with my kid than I do, and weekends are so jammed up with shit from during the week that there isn’t a whole lot of time for fun.

The topic has come up with Ryan that once he gets his raise in a couple months, that I can stay home.  Trust me on this one, there has been numerous times this past week that that seemed like a great idea.  It’s hard to think it’s not.  However, the grass is always greener.  Even if Ryan makes enough for a comfortable living, we’d still lose the money that my job brings in to supplement and save.   I wouldn’t have money for the extra things for the kids and wouldn’t be able to put money in our “going-on-vacation-finally” fund or “get-the-hell-out-of-my-house-kids!” fund.  Two things that I definitely like putting money in.  Plus with this economy, I don’t think I could walk away from a job I (mostly) like that is pretty damned stable, and rely solely on one income again.  You never know what could happen, and I know I’d regret leaving my job if Ryan ever lost his.

 

The grass is always greener, I’ll just keep repeating that.  In the meantime I’m off to get the kid in the bath and find something for lunch.