Diary of a Working Mom: Where did I go?

It’s funny the things you notice at times. Right now I am obsessed with other people’s nails. The pretty spring colours, the dark shellacs, the French manicures, the real and the “enhanced”. I can’t stop staring at them, and then down and my own horrible hands. Man, my hands have aged horribly in the last 2 years.

I used to have nice nails and soft hands that smelled of the latest Bath and Bodyworks scent. Before Henry, I had a standing appointment at my local nail salon and every Friday night I got a pedicure and every other Friday I got my nails shellacked and an eyebrow wax. I had great nails and great feet (great eyebrows too). Those days are long gone and one look at my bushy eyebrows and horrible hands/feet prove it.

The last time I had a manicure Henry was 3 months old (he is almost 2), and the last pedicure I had was before I went to Croatia last July. And my eyebrows get waxed if I am lucky once every 2 months.

What happened to me? Continue reading

What about your friends?

I recently met up with some old friends from high school and we made concrete plans to meet-up again and agreed to get together more often. One of those “get togethers” is going to the NKOTB Main Event concert with special guests TLC and Nelly. So this weekend I took a little trip down memory lane and listened to some TLC. One of my favorite songs was/is “What about your friends” and it really got me thinking.

Not to be overly dramatic but the past 3 years have been really difficult for me. I had people in my life that I thought were friends for life basically disappear on me and when I was in their presence treat me like the I had the plague. I had a nightmarish pregnancy due to HG (Hyperemesis Gravidarum), and then my life drastically changed when I became a mom and while I was trying to figure it all out I faced serious financial struggles due to government red tape that left me with little to no maternity leave pay. It was 3 years filled with rumours, lies, hurt, physical pain, emotional struggles and anger.

But if all of that taught me anything it taught me that my true friends never left me. People who I may not have seen or really spoke to in almost 20 years were there to support me; friends I neglected to make time for other people not only showed up, but held me up. Friends who saw me struggling reached out to make sure I knew that I wasn’t alone and that all the crap that was surrounding me was just that…crap. They made me stop doubting my worth, or who I was and that the reason they were still there was BECAUSE of who I was. And all the crap, especially the friend crap came into perspective and I can’t thank those people enough for it. Continue reading

Diary of a Working Mom: My life as a working Mom

10933942_10155080870255321_4007292640116676330_nMy alarm goes off every weekday at 6:15am, but I don’t need it. I have already been up since 5:45am, like clockwork because since pregnancy that has been my “pee time”. No matter when I have my last glass of liquid or how many times I pee before bed that is the time my bladder decides that it needs to relieve itself.

I groggily make my way to the bathroom to shower, brush my teeth, get dressed and do my hair and make-up. By 7am I hear my husband’s alarm go off and I am ready to go – but I can’t just walk out the door and head off to work and start my day because there is another sound I have been faintly hearing for the last 10 minutes. It’s the sound of my son babbling in his bedroom ready and waiting for me to burst into his room with a big smile and a very cheery “Good Morning!”

No matter how crappy I feel, no matter how tired I am, no matter how deep the hole from which I just crawled out from, I always want to make sure he starts his day with a smile and a cheery Good Morning from his Mama. Some mornings he’s just as cheery, and some he too is tired and groggy but our day still has to begin. I scoop him up and give him the biggest hug I have been dying to give him for the last 12 hours, because as much as I do enjoy the few quiet moments I have after he goes to bed and all the “chores” are done, I still miss him and want to go and snuggle him and play with him. It makes me feel a little bi-polar sometimes, this yearning for “me” time, but this need/want to always be with him. I ask him how he slept, I am not sure of his answer. He’s only just over a year and a half and let’s face it, even if I think he has a vast vocabulary for his age he’s still “baby talking” a lot of the time or merging a bunch of nonsensical words together, like this morning “Pouch peanut butter Elmo moo cow. Yes, snow. Oooo Paw Patrol bum No Odd Squad cuddle”. He must be my kid because even though it makes no sense he talks a mile a minute. Continue reading