Everyone looks for that perfect job. You know, the one that allows you to keep putting that scoop or two of food in the dog bowl and have enough time to complete the dishes once you get home. That one job that fits your family needs. That one job where the work environment is just tolerable enough that keeping your mouth shut and laying low works well. Looking for that one job where experience overcomes new bosses and opinions are weighed heavily no matter the extent of your degree. And we all keep looking… and hoping… until we find something that’ll “work for now until something else comes up.”

This week has been a bit hard on me. I started the week missing Matt. Our puppy got sick and that mom-instinct in me kicked in. I didn’t want to be at work and think of that sick puppy at home just waiting for her vet trip. You should have seen that big dog with her tail between her legs shaking in her cage when I got up Tuesday morning. Poor thing. And those two events combined have kind of hit me harder than I thought they would. See, I’ve missed Matt before. There have been days that I just flat out don’t want to go to work because I want to see my husband. I think, “Everyone else got to see him, but he’s mine and I want to get my share.” Monday night date nights help.

Transition is occurring at work and it’s leaving me a bit high and dry. I’ve been putting in the work for 2 jobs and I don’t see an end to this phenomenon. I’m trying to remain hopeful. Baby’s taken a growth spurt and begun to stick out more and more with each passing morning. Work people are noticing and commenting regularly. But the kids at work remain in the same intensity level, requiring running down the hallway, dragging screaming 5 and 6 year olds, and absorbing some blows here and there.

Things have changed a bit since I was first told I was taking full responsibility of the older class. I have grown a bit (as mentioned before) and this week it has become much more evident to me that I am no longer risking just my neck. See, I can take a blow from a 6 year old. I’ve taken them before and I’ll take them again before this life is over. But I can only do so much to defend this baby. Our baby. My baby.

I mentioned my concern in staff meeting yesterday regarding some highly aggressive kids and my continued growing state. Administration offered a temporary fix for which I was grateful that anything at all had been done. But the topic was concluded with the strong statement that this was merely a temporary fix until this transition was smoothed over. Only problem is that these kids aren’t leaving any time soon… and I’m not going on leave until January. So it makes me a bit more concerned about this baby’s safety, especially since this baby’s mine. If I don’t look out for it while I’m carrying it (and thereafter) no one else will. Matt can only do so much to keep our baby safe when it’s in my belly.

I don’t know… this week’s just been a little hard in that my priorities are very much elsewhere. And the balance of work and my family’s welfare seems to be a little tainted this week.

sigh