Fridays come and I think "ahhhhh the weekend is finally here!" Sigh of relief. But then I remember that all week long while my husband I were working at our day jobs, the rest of our life goes on the backburner. It is really challenging to be a mom and work full-time. As much as I hated my job the weeks following my return from maternity leave, I've come to appreciate the adult interaction and love the education our son is receiving at his daycare center.
I hated my job after returning to work for a few reasons. First, 2 weeks before I actually gave birth (I worked up until the night I went into labor... I'm so sorry to all my co-workers who had to look at my extremely swollen face those last couple weeks... uff dah), my department announced a major reorganization. I was so disappointed when I found out that everything about my job as I knew it would change. I was feeling confident in my role on my team and a shake-up was not what a 38 week swollen-faced pregnant lady wanted. So, the next day, my new boss held a meeting to do introductions. Mine went a little something like this:
Hello, I'm Brianna. I'm having a baby in two weeks... hopefully sooner... and I've never done this type of work before.
I think I came across less than pleasant. Fortunately, I wasn't the only pregnant person on the team, so I had sympathy coming from the other girl at least. My first week back to work after maternity leave was a little rocky. I returned to a new director, a new manager, a new team where I only knew one person (the other pregnant girl actually and she was still on maternity leave for another couple weeks after me! How dare she!), and I also knew absolutely nothing about the type of work I'd be doing. I had just dropped my son off at daycare for the first time and this shake-up is what I had to return to. I hated it.
It has been a little over a year since that first day back. I have a much different attitude towards my job now. Working outside the home gives me an opportunity to continue challenging myself professionally, but it also allows my son to have a wonderful learning experience at daycare. He started at 13 weeks old dressed in little button-up jammies and drank many, many ounces of pumped breast milk throughout the day. Now at 16 months, he has group time, eats lunch with the other kids at a table, sleeps on a cot, eats with a spoon, dances, reorganizes the furniture, waves goodbye to his friends when we pick him up in the afternoon and makes us the cutest little gifts for all holidays. I love it. He's 16 months old and he has a room full of little friends. Adorable.
The challenge comes when we work all day, eat dinner, play for an hour, and then put the little guy to bed for the night. He plays so hard all day that he crashes at 7. He'll spin in circles for 15 minutes laughing his head off and then WAHHHH...... cranky. Time for bed. Lights out until 5 AM. There is no time for anything else. None. Work. Play. Sleep. Repeat. Five times. Friday... ahhhhh, sigh of relief. But not really.
Weekend: laundry laundry laundry, sweep, vacuum, dishes, grocery shop, see family, see friends, reconnect with my husband, get a haircut, get the oil changed, RUN.
It is ridiculously hard for me to find time to workout. I only have one kid. It should be easy, right? I know people who have 7 kids who find time to run. Get it together and just go do it. Your life isn't that insane. That's what I have to tell myself. But it feels insane sometimes.
I had the chance to go run tonight. It's Sunday night at 6:45 PM. Our evening opened up last minute and I asked my husband if he'd put the little guy to bed so I could go to the gym. He always says yes. I changed into my new knee-length running pants and a t-shirt (the same red t-shirt from that 4 mile run). On the 10 minute drive over the gym through the snow, I went back and forth between wanting to do another longer run or do a fast run and get the whole thing overwith. I still had to grocery shop after the gym. It wasn't until I got on the treadmill until I decided to do a fast 2 mile run.
This run kind of sucked. I'm not going to lie. I don't think I was totally mentally prepared for it and I had left my iPod at home. All I had was my phone, so I listened to some random Pandora station that didn't really do it for me. My feet kind of hurt and so did my calves. My lungs felt like they were working pretty hard, but not because I was really pushing myself. They were screaming to have me quit. I got to 1.55 miles and I turned the speed up to 6.5, which I will remind you is fast for me. Not an all-out sprint, but pretty fast. I ran for a minute and thought "holy crap, I'm going to die... I want to stop." I didn't. Thirty more seconds. I did it. Thirty more seconds. Done. Fifteen seconds. 1.85 miles. Seriously? Already? Nice. Okay, 30 more seconds. Whew... dripping sweat here. I hope the lady behind me is gone now because I probably look really awkward right about now. 1.95 miles. I'm so going to get to 2 miles. I'm. Almost. There. YES! 2 miles! Cooldown.
My run completely turned around. I was just not into the run at first, but finishing strong totally made my night. I left and headed over to Cub to grocery shop at 8 PM. I felt good... hungry, but good. I needed that time to just decompress from the busy weekend. Sure, I was doing my weekend chore (I secretly like grocery shopping. I just wish I could go not on the weekend or in the evening when so many others are there too.), but the run and being out alone kind of helps prep me for the week. I have my meals planned out and have enough pineapple to keep my son happy all week. Favorite food of all time.
Random post. I fit the run in this weekend among everything else on the to-do list. I needed it. And it felt great.
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