Fit

Just over two weeks ago, I made the decision to leave my job.

After a few months of looking, a handful of interviews and a lot of time spent wringing my hands an offer landed in my lap and I leaped at the opportunity. It was different. New. It would be a challenge. And then, ten days after accepting the position, ten days after feeling a weird mix of happy and sad, excitement and terror, ten days after making up my mind another offer came in. 

When it rains it pours.

So I contemplated. And I cried. I looked at Mr. Hockey Coach and asked what I should do. I called my prof. I called my parents. I spoke to friends and colleagues and I wrote pros and cons lists and I felt sick because it was too tempting. I could go home, but I was miserable just contemplating it. So I said fuck it and I turned down that second opportunity. And a weight was lifted. But then I wondered - and I knew I would - whether it was the right decision.

I sat at a coffee shop waiting for the office to open on Monday morning, giving me time to think. I sat in the corner of the shop and watched as people shuffled past the window in the cold, as the traffic lights changed and I pondered my choice. What if I hated it? What if it wasn't the right fit for me? But what if it was?

After leaving my second day of work today, I had the answer. 

I made the right decision. I'm the kind of happy and excited that I haven't been in a long time. I can see the challenges before me and I can hardly make my brain shut up for long enough for me to think about anything else.  There's something amazing about realizing that you've found something that fits - and yet still needs to be broken in.

Like the perfect pair of shoes.

Bittersweet

I accepted a new job last week.

I'll never deny that I always keep an eye open and an ear out for new opportunities in everything, from my writing to apartments. Once upon a time I was quite content to be static, until my life began to feel stagnant. Perhaps it is the fear of staleness in my life that lights the proverbial fire under my ass that keeps me looking for new adventures, but whatever it is, I found myself at a crossroads and decided to take the unbeaten path.

And so, with some trepidation, I said yes.

And then, with much sadness, I wrote my letter of resignation.

And then I almost threw up.

Moving on to this new position is both exciting and terrifying. While I am thrilled to have this opportunity, I can't help but feel a pang of sadness as I know I'll desperately miss my friends in the office. I'll miss the sense of accomplishment that comes from knowing that the work I do every day helps better the lives of others. 

But I'll meet new people. I'll do new things. And the opportunities ahead of me are endless.

It's nothing shy of bittersweet, as I look forward to my first day at my new job and dread my last day with the office. 

Until then...

The Happiest of Hallowe'ens

Two posts in one day! Yay for you, my beloved readers!

F didn't want to trick-or-treat last night (he decided this on Wednesday after his Halloween party at preschool), so we decided to lay low - thank goodness! I was up before 5 am to bake a blueberry croissant puff for our office Hallowe'en breakfast AND I wore a tutu and my excitement over this really took a lot out of me. That and F was a real ghoul all day and I had to carry him kicking and screaming into his daycare provider's home, where she then had to peel him off of me so I could actually go to work.

Sigh. Parenthood is so, so, SO unglamorous - even when you're wearing a tutu.

I got the idea in my head about halfway through making my tutu last weekend that I should start making them and selling them. One of my good friends pointed out that I'm probably the only adult who'd be into wearing tutus every day, but there may just be a market for little ones. We'll see where that goes. I really enjoyed making this one!

I think it turned out pretty well and I was especially impressed with my hair - considering it was day 3, after sleeping on it two nights in a row and I managed it at 5:30 am in only a few minutes. Hooray me. It was significantly less pretty this morning when I woke up on day 4, with a bird's nest that an osprey could have homed in.

Here's a couple of photos of my get-up!

The tutu, before tights!

My hair!

Legs and nude heels!

In my old pointe shoes!

Hair - from the front!

I realized yesterday, while standing in my office lunchroom just how amazing the people I work with are. I had the warm and fuzzies all day, after laughing and sharing in some good times with everyone. The awesomeness of the day was only improved by snuggling with F last night while we watched the Magic School Bus in bed! I somehow doubt this is how we'll be spending our next Hallowe'en.

Happy November, friends!

fifty three weeks

A year ago, I was packing the last of my things for my move.

So much has happened in the past year that I can feel my head begin to spin just thinking about thinking about it all. I remember my own rush to get things packed before supper - I didn't want to worry about anything on Hallowe'en. I just wanted to enjoy trick-or-treating with F. I can still feel the ache in my heart knowing I had to leave him behind for a while. I don't have words to describe that, even today.

I remember waking up on November 1 and packing the "big stuff" onto the back of Dad's truck, and sharing the drive to Halifax. I remember discovering my apartment door unlocked - and furiously looking for new apartments on the drive back to Cape Breton that night. You don't need to ask how angry I was when I found that same door unlocked shortly afterwards, though both episodes pale in comparison to the hissy fit I threw when I discovered that every single thing I owned was missing from my apartment the week I was due to start classes - just one week later. Sometimes, I honestly don't know how I stuck it out. And by sometimes, I mean all the time. I really must be crazy.

"It's just a year," everyone said.  "It'll fly by. A year is nothing."

In many ways, they were right. It was just a year that flew by. But it wasn't nothing. It was two broken hearts and months and months of heartache. It was tears and sorry and it was laughter and joy and excitement and pride. I didn't think this much could be packed into one year. It was wiping tears from the end of Mom and Dad's driveway to the ferry once a month, and sobbing in the parking lot of the apartment the following week after saying goodbye to F.

The last year has been pretty crazy. A year ago today, F and I dressed as a James the Tank Engine and a Fire Fighter respectively, and we had a fun night. He's not so into dressing up this year, but he rocked his costume at his Hallowe'en party yesterday but told me he's already done all the trick-or-treating he wants to do. Today - one year later - I'm wearing a tutu at the best job I've ever had and he's probably eating a bowl of fruit at daycare with his friends. A year can be huge. It can be life changing.

And it was.

Making the Change

Sometimes the happiest endings come from beginnings filled with sadness.

It's hard to believe that two years ago, I was relishing in the glow of newlyweddom (it's my new word; deal with it). It's harder still for me to wrap my head around the fact that just one short year ago I was in the preliminary process of the whole back-to-school-mama business. I'm not even sure I was truly convinced I'd do it. And here I am, about to graduate.

I'm incredibly fortunate to have had this opportunity and I know that. Many don't. I'm blessed with great friends, wonderful parents and a community who stood behind me to offer support, words of kindness and consolation, cups of coffee to wake me up and shoulders to cry on when needed. It hasn't been easy, but we did it.

When my plans to move to Ottawa came crashing down on my head and I found myself, clutching Kleenex and sobbing in my supervisor's office, asking for my job back I felt like my whole world was about to implode. It was like I was perched precariously on the verge of total devastation, and unable to get away. It was a bad feeling. And then one day, I came home from work and got in the shower and let all of the sadness and bad feeling go down the drain with the suds from my shampoo.

Less than a year after totally uprooting my life and challenging myself in ways I didn't think I could (and would rather not ever do again), I'm working in a field that I love and have been for nine months. I won't stay here forever, but it's a perfect fit for me right now. I made the decision to be happy, and though there will always be bumps in the road and obstacles to overcome, I've made it to a place where happiness really is my reality.

But it's easy to get lost in sadness.

I know this because I've done it, and it was a long, hard battle to get out of the rut I had settled into. It's easy to stay there. It's easy to mistake comfort for contentment, or happiness. We settle for what we have, rather than dare to dream. Change is scary. It's hard, it's the unknown but it's almost always worth the journey. 

Thumbs Up for Thursdays! (August 15)

I can't even believe it's the middle of August. Summer is almost gone, you guys!

This Thursday, I have a pile of clothes on my floor like you wouldn't believe and I haven't even begun cleaning or packing for our weekend in CB! Gah! As always, life with a toddler is busy and occasionally crazifying but we're plugging on through! Woohoo. With little progress being made on the job front, it's been hard to keep a positive outlook but your day is only as good as you let it be so...

Without further ado, here are some things that earned a Thumbs Up this week!

1. Cool evenings. Although I'm bummed I didn't get to wear some of my new shorts (warm weather, come back!!), I can't complain about cool weather at bedtime. The cooler air makes for a comfortable sleep - and after a week of not sleeping well, I'll take whatever zeds I can get.

2. I still have my job (kind of)! Yay! After giving notice a couple of weeks ago, I definitely wasn't expecting to be glad to still have my part-time position, but when plans changed I was pretty thankful to be able to stay a little bit longer. In the meantime, I'm glad that I have half of my day to spend job hunting.

3. F started taking himself to the potty, which means Mommy is off the hook for quick runs to pee. As a parent, there's nothing better than seeing your child find their confidence and independence and this is a huge feat for F! Only a couple of months ago, I was seriously afraid the kid would never give up his pull-ups and now he's too cool to have his Mom in the bathroom with him. #Winning.

I Blog at OMC!

It hasn't been a year since I first sat before my keyboard and let it all out. 

It's been quite a journey. I've found myself - but more than that, I've created a new me. It's been a reinvention. I'm a better person. I'm happier. Stronger. More, well, me.

I had a shocking revelation a couple of months ago when I realized that I've never felt more at home in my own skin. If you've ever felt like you didn't belong in your own body, you know as well as I that it's a terrible feeling. Writing used to be something I sometimes did. Now it's who I am. The past 10 months have been a pursuit of passion, a search for happiness and I wouldn't change a minute of it.

I'm excited to share my newest adventure with you as I've just logged into my new blog position with Ottawa Mommy Club! 

You'll soon be able to follow my blog at OMC (I haven't posted anything just yet), and you can expect 2-6 posts a month on everything from recipes to reviews, tips on writing, a couple of work outs and a pile of momisms. 

Stay tuned for a link to my new blog, Li'l Ms. Write! 

Grownup

I'm inclined to believe that society might have screwed me up.

This applies to many things, to be sure, but I've found that our youth (a group I'm rapidly outgrowing my membership of) have a very skewed perception of matters related to um, not being a youth. The dreaded G word.

Grownup.

Yuck, right? I know. Sigh. If I rewind 10 or 15 years, I thought 25 was old. Mature. Grownup. Probably a sweet age to be... and in many ways, I was right. I love being 25 and if I could, I might even try to stay 25 for 5 or 10 years because that's about how long it takes for you to be ready to be older than 25, from what I can tell.

I was sure that 25 meant owning a sweet car, my own home, and having a kick ass job making loads and loads of money.

Thanks, society.

At 18, I graduated high school and went to university with that in my head. I had no flipping idea what I wanted to be when I grew up, and sometimes I still don't. I went off to university, no more than a fetus, and I felt lost for six years until I decided to pursue my passion.

For the first time in my life, I leave work happy. I go to work happy. I am happy at work.

I love my job. My career. And I probably won't stay on this path forever.

If I had known this simple truth a long time ago, I could have avoided a lot of stress and anxiety and disappointment. As my friends' younger siblings, and our baby cousins and family friends' kids graduate high school, I hope they all realize this:

 It's OK if you don't know what you want to be when you grow up. You'll figure it out in your own time.

That's life, society. It's growing up as you go along.

Chapters

Today was the first day in a new chapter for F and I.

The good news is we survived it. The bad news is my baby is all gone.

When I got up at 5:00am this morning, two things crossed my mind, the first relating to how sore my legs were, the second relating to the fact that the boy in my bed was a lot smaller than usual. Red's been away over a week, and while I miss him dearly I'm pretty glad to have my numero uno to snuggle with. Last night marked the first solo night for F and I in a very long time.

A year ago, I was slowly settling into work again after spending my winter as a single, stay-at-home-mommy. If chapter one was my marriage, and chapter two was singlemomdom, I think we're at about chapter 5 right now and I love it!

F was up an hour later, at 6:00am and ate the breakfast I'd set out for him, brushed his teeth and got ready for his first day at daycare. After spending some time at home with him, I can honestly say that I miss it a little, but the whole SAHM thing just wasn't cutting it for me. I love having a career. That said, I still felt a twinge of Mommy guilt leaving him at daycare.

We were 15 minutes ahead of schedule this morning, and I stood in the porch watching him pacing with his backpack on. "Come on, Mommy!" he'd say with one hand on the doorknob and the other holding Ellie, his stuffed elephant. Where did my baby go? Did I miss him while I was trying to sort out being a grown-up?

He had a great day, when it was all said and done. We came home and made dinner together, none of which he wanted to eat, and he's playing with his trucks watching Dora the Explorer. He's already talking about going back tomorrow to play with his friends, wondering what toys they will play with and if he can have a Kinder Surprise for dessert.

Meanwhile, I'm still trying to figure out where my baby went.