Glancing Back, Looking Forward

2013 marked a lot of progress for my little family.

Charlie officially adopted Max this year, and his name changed to Max Evan McKenney Lutz. It was such a long (expensive!!) process, that sometimes I forget it's over. We threw what Max described as the best part of his life.

Max is rocking second grade. He has one of those life-changing teachers. The kind who you wish could just follow you through the rest of school. He rides the bus for the first time, and was even camper of the week last summer.

I ran my first 5K in 2013, and have kept up with running. I am finally a regular runner, something I have been trying to do for as long as I can remember. 

Oh! I planted flowers in the front of our house because I got house envy when I dropped Max off at a friend's. :) They looked fabulous, I'm excited for this summer to do it again.

I got a visible tattoo.

Both my grandparents died in 2013, and I saw my mom again for the first time in 2 years. I lived at Barnes Hospital for a week so Nomo wouldn't have to sleep alone at night. I spoke at both their funerals and struggled with how to sum up someone's life in 5 minutes or less.

Because of their passing, I hosted Thanksgiving breakfast and Christmas Eve dinner at my house for the McKenney side of the family. We had a great time, even though we were all missing Nomo and Karl. I think a tradition started this year.

So, what's in store for 2014??

Charlie and I are hoping to grow up a little more. Perhaps follow a budget, pay off debt, run a 1/2 marathon, save for a down payment on a new house. 

Mechanical Mothers

This blog thing is exciting. Since I write in here so infrequently, I can read my old posts as a stranger. Misspellings drive me crazy, but I'm not really sure if I have misspelled the words that I think I have...riveting, right?

My Ethan is snoozing peacefully in his swing, freeing me up for house cleaning, thank you card writing, and blowing the dust off an ancient blog. We have had a great day today, and I have gotten some things done, too. He's dying to smile at me, I just know it.

This swing thing has saved me from feeling like a failed wife & mother. (So has turning off Netflix, but that's unrelated.) Ethan and I play, meaning I talk to him and he looks at me like he's growling, which makes me laugh. Then, when he gets fussy and tired, I put him in the swing and he, well, he swings. Contentedly until he falls asleep. Then he sleeps for a long time.

Yesterday I was reading a baby book for tips on getting him to sleep in his own bed, and the author referred to swings as "mechanical mothering." Wow. Talk about ripping out a heart and stepping on it.

I guess no matter what I do, my kids are going to end up as serial killers. Or, maybe just I will?

Baby steps

I started Microbiology this week.
First, I loved it.
Then, I hated it.
Now, I love it again.

It's so fun being me.

New Goals, Less Money

*ehem. I am starting my pre-reqs for nursing school in June. Officially.
I feel like I may be one of those people who has had 80 careers by the time she dies, and I'm pretty happy about that.
I've always had a problem with decisions. Just go eat with me and watch how long it takes me to make my food selection. At a bar, ask me what I want to drink. I'll make you come back to me, and halfway through my first beer I'll realize it's not what I want.
Careers so far: waitress (tons of fun, great exercise) sales rep in trucking (stories for years to come) Clerical (current job, really like it, but it's not quite "it").
Careers I thought I would pursue so far: PR, Marketing, Social Work, Admin Assistant, Healthcare Administrator, etc, etc etc.
There's always this fight of I want to love what I do, I want to help people, even if it's just helping my boss achieve his goals by writing minutes, and I would also like to make money.
I've decided I don't like sitting at a desk all day. It hurts my butt, and probably my soul a little bit.
I liked the thought of social work because of the flexibility. One degree, countless options. Saving the world a little bit at a time everyday. Self sacrifice. But, since Charlie's a high roller, I would also like to help contribute to our livelihood a little more.
And then I came to work at Barnes Hospital, where I love all of it. The management style, the people around me, the culture of the organization. It was like shock!
And for the newsletter I'm helping put together, I ran into the article about the Teen Pregnancy Clinic that is lead by nurses. It's so similar to Social Work, but without the negative connotation that people can have about Social Work. No one is scared that a nurse is going to take their child from them. Plus, compensation is great.
And there are so many options! So, if my finicky nature gets the best of me in two years, I can transfer to another role in nursing. Same job, new experience. Oh, and the on-going education. Lifelong, encouraged learning.
I can't wait.
And I'm scared. :)
And it will be expensive until I get my pre-reqs out of the way.
What wedding?

Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!!!!!!!!!!!

Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!!!!!  I haven't written in this blog for so long because I forgot my password AND I forgot the made-up e-mail for this friggin' blog.  Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!!! Have I said that yet?? I'm so happy. Whew. Calm down. Take a breath. Oh man. I'm excited.

Are there art police?

Ok. I'll admit that I was probably in my teens the last time I went to a museum. Sadly, it's true. Is it that I don't enjoy museums? Not at all! Quite the opposite, really. Here's the thing: I'm afraid they'll find me out. Somehow they'll be able to tell I don't belong there. That I can't draw and neither can I recognize any famous artist, art style, eras, techniques, etc. Then I'll just be standing there telling Charlie how the Matisse painting looks like an 8 year old drew it and they'll bust through the doors, knock me to the floor, and drag me out, disgracefully, in handcuffs designed by Dali. [And I bet THOSE would hurt!}

Of course, that has yet to happen, but I'm always looking over my shoulder nontheless. I'm on to you, art police...

Impetus vs. Inspiration

Do you think that sometimes complacency is the reason for unhappiness? I have this thing where I can adapt to any situation and come out happy for the most part. When I was younger that was a great survival technique [Charlie, am I starting to sound like Dr. Rey?] but now it seems more like a fault. Acceptance is not always the key.

for instance: my job. I haven't liked my job for some time now, and it has started to erode at both my confidence and my core sense of happiness. Isn't that profound? When you don't like what you do for 40 hours a week it eats at your soul a little bit.

But, honestly, I'm a little scared of change. I have some vast amount of responsibility and a null amount of savings and just jumping out there into a new job seems to be a little terrifying.

So, instead, I have just been treading water. Me. Treading water. I used to yell at people for that.

I have felt indebted to my job because they let me work there through pregnancy and it's my first job out of college. Technically, I've been working there since I was 19.

Lately, though, I have found my impetus. Or maybe my impeti. [I'm not sure the plural form of that...]

Moving right along, I had a meeting with my boss on Friday that was absurd and would have had me in a state of depression for the whole weekend if I hadn't been suction cupped to Charlie's side on Saturday and Sunday. And for a few minutes on Monday. Thanks for being my serotonin, baby.

I was chastised both for reasons I deserved and reasons I didn't. And my parenting skill were called into question in front of another employee. Of course there's more to the story, but that's the gist of it.

Charlie, also is a reason. [No pressure.] It makes such a difference to know you have someone there to hold your had as you step off into the unknown. Somehow holding my hand is helping me develop a spine. Anatomy is wild like that sometimes.

So, I think I'm looking for another job. Any suggestions?