Job Musings

You know you need a new job when nearly everyday before 8am you are just done with your job. Also when you wake up with a stomach ache at least twice a week sick with the idea you have to go to work.

A couple weeks ago I actually woke up spontaneously sobbing when the alarm went off with the idea that I had to go to work.

This is stupid.

Hobbies

I often think I have two and a half hobbies and only time for one. I can spend hours either reading or knitting very happily....and do enjoy spending some time in the garden. However my daily schedule doesn't really have room for any regular time for these things.

Seems like every moment is allocated to something, not a lot of spare moments right now for things that I enjoy.

Job Criteria

So, is it better to have a job that has a lot of flexibility but provides no satisfaction, and still requires me to be away from my daughter, or a job that maybe has more hours and not quite as much flexibility but allows me more satisfaction and career growth?

I think it takes a lot out of me to hate that I have to go to work every morning. Even if there is less flexibility, if I don't hate it constantly, does that leave more energy for my family?

We *might* have to consider getting a nanny to manage the hours, depending on what happens with husbands job, but considering we are nearing having to send her to pre-school and then kindergarten in not too much longer anyway...maybe not the end of the world.

Flinging Flying Marshmellows

This past weekend we went camping. The last night, my very dear husband was roasting a 1/2 a marshmellow because we were out of Hershey bars, and were putting the marshmallows between Chips Ahoy cookies, and a 1/2 marshmallow is a much better ratio.

So, his marshmallow catches on fire - it happens - and so he starts flinging the stick back and forth, instead of just blowing it out like a normal person. And flings it across the campfire landing on my left shoulder. Fortunately only a small burn since it mostly hit my t-shirt.

But, our nearly 3-yo daughter was very impressed with the subsequent racous laughter and her father chasing me around with a camera while I insisted that it really did hurt....

So much so, that a couple days later, back at home, she said the following to him in the morning before he dropped her off at daycare:

"Dadder do you remember when we were camping you winged a flying maschmallow at mommy....that was bad that was bad daddy"

Which brings us to the new knicknames: Dadder and Mommer....funny