A fresh approach

I’m back at work, and it’s almost like I was never away. From day one responsibility and deadlines are thrust upon me. But, hey, that’s what pays the bills.

My little baby is at daycare. I take her there every morning before work and fetch her after. I chose the most efficient, friendly and clean place I could find. The babies are well taken care of, with 2 babies per caretaker. It was also the most expensive place, but when it’s about your baby’s safety and security, no price is too high. The experience and qualifications of the ladies at the daycare was also a bonus.

My husband is doing his honours degree part time, working full time and he plays rugby. He gets the baby ready every morning, while I get myself ready. Chores are on a first come first served basis. We wash clothes and dishes and clean every now and then. This is turning out to take a lot of getting used to.

Sometimes I cook. It’s not frequent or gourmet, or anything, but I do try.

My baby seems to be growing like she gets fertilizer dumped on her at daycare. I miss her a lot during the day. Dropping her off every morning is heartbreaking, but I’m getting better at it. She usually just sleeps or giggles and smiles when she gets dropped off. I hope this will continue as she becomes more aware. She is a good baby.

Last night at 9pm she woke up after a 3 hour nap, she wanted play time. So, her daddy and I took turns having her on our laps. We even did some scrapbooking. I want to document her growth as closely as possible. She is growing with much speed.

I have decided to write the CISA exam in June of this year. Husband and I did some studying last night while the baby slept. I have a lot of work ahead of me.

There’s something about the environment here at the office. It’s very… I don’t know – it’s like the climate here is very competitive, but friendly and helpful. Everyone wants to learn and succeed. There are many successful people here at the office. I am having third thoughts about my second thought on writing my board exam again. I already had a lady offer me her notes for QE 1.

I’m blown away by how the people around you can influence you. I think this is a major component of why my prior job was less than fun. Everyone there was frazzled and tired and over-worked. The negativity has a way of rubbing off on co-workers.

My original point was that I have created a study plan for the year and I think it is attainable. The result of this CISA exam will set the tone for the QE exam, I think. Methinks I want some letters behind my name.

These days, my baby giggles and sings. She enjoys trying to stand. She likes sitting and watching television. Sometimes she topples herself while sitting. Next thing you know, her face is in the cushions and she’s on her stomach.

She has a pronounced dimple on her right cheek. It’s adorable. She still has eyes of deepest ebony. Her legs and arms are decidedly pudgy. But, she is healthy and growing well.

At the end of next week, I have to take her for immunization shots again. My leave has been approved and everything. It breaks my heart. She is very brave though. She doesn’t cry much. She stops soon after starting. But, having to have her hurt is just awful. But, I’d rather she got the vaccinations, than her getting polio or some other preventable calamity.

I applied for flexi-hours on Monday. They have been approved. I start work earlier, but I get to go fetch my baby and go home earlier too. I beat a lot of the bad traffic. So far it is absolutely worth it; especially with the help of my husband every morning. I am truly blessed as far as that’s concerned.

The secret to happiness is to be grateful, after all.

I have the cutest picture of my husband holding my baby the day after she was born. I picked up a picture frame at the office supplies store down the street yesterday. It’s awesome to see the two of them every time I look up. I’ve been thinking about adding a few more recent pictures of them to the wall of my little office. I miss them so much every day.

Last weekend my husband’s rugby team beat their opponents 19-0. In the rain. I didn’t see much of the match. I was engaged in attempting to make sense of Dickens’ Tale of Two Cities. It reminds me of when I read David Copperfield 8 years ago. Dickens takes a really long time to describe things. I was 25 pages into the story and nothing had really happened yet. There was just a lot of describing.

This coming weekend there will be another rugby match. I’ve decided to pay better attention this time around. It would be awesome to see the husband in action. He has worked off about 15 kg’s since the end of last year. I’m monstrously proud of him; and just as monstrously jealous. My baby birthing fat is clinging to me for dear life.

I’ll be switching medical aids soon. I’ve done the paperwork. I eagerly await the results.

I’m broke. I’m broker than broke. The paradigm of my life has shifted in huge leaps in a relatively short amount of time. Last year this time, I was skinny, living with my parents, very un-pregnant, nobody’s mommy, had few responsibilities, spent most of my money on travel and clothes. Today, I am a co-home owner, somebody’s (large) mom, responsible for co-cooking, co-cleaning and stocking the fridge. My budget has done a 180 and there is almost zero wiggle room. Things will improve, I’m hoping.

On the whole, life is good. I wake up next to the two loves of my life every morning; my best friend and my baby. The fridge is stocked, my car is gassed. I have a great job. My parents and his have been very supportive in all ways, especially financially – which has been a great help. Setting up house is amazingly expensive, despite all the wedding gifts we received.

Last year I was a skinny free agent, but utterly miserable. Today I am a post-pregnancy mommy with a fixed schedule and budget – I couldn’t be happier.