Working Mommy

Wow!

Being a mom is tough work. It's a full time job, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, for the rest of your life.
I know this because I've watched my own mother rear all seven of us Crane kids (though now I'm a Deliganis), and being the oldest at 23, I still need my mom.

I recently wrote about the mental strife of leaving behind breast feeding so that I could return to my bi-polar treatment. I'm glad to report that apart from some painful pumping sessions (cold turkey breast feeding can be a fairly brutal experience), Charlotte has official accepted the bottle and only grabs for my boobs ever so often, and though it does break my heart we've found new ways of cuddling and cozying up with the bottle and all is well.

Along with our switch to the bottle, Charlotte and I have also been dealing with some serious separation anxiety. I recently started working the lunch shift at a local mom & pops shop and along with my pay check comes countless hours spent away from my sweet baby girl.

I'm blessed to be working with such an incredible, beautiful, awesome manger (sup Rachel, love you bbgurl) who let's me off early when the rush dies down, allowing me to get a few more hours in with my little angle baby, but even at that, I find myself constantly missing her.

Taking after mommy.

This is what my day now looks like -

7am - Charlotte wakes up mommy and daddy
7:01am - Mommy begs daddy to let her sleep more
7:05am - Mommy makes bottle, daddy feeds Charlotte, mommy hides under blankets

After our little morning ritual the three of us get to play, watch some Yo Gabba Gabba and take turns trying to get ready for work. Often times Charlotte sits in her Bumpo seat looking at her reflection in the mirror while I rush to get my make up on, fighting for counter space whilst Andrew tries to get a clean shave for work. The three of us don't really all fit in the bathroom at one time, but it works, and it also allows time for kissing in-between drying lipstick and making silly faces at the baby through the mirror.

Charlotte goes down for her morning nap around 930 and if I'm lucky I get to sneak off to my favorite local coffee shop for a quick triple shot before my shift. If I'm really-really lucky I get to bring my sweet husband along with me, and that's my pretty much the best start to my day ever.

With my triple shot of espresso (con panna) working it's way through my veins I make my 10 minute drive, park the car, and walk in.

Everyone speaks Vietnamese, apart from the owner and one of my favorite co-workers who goes by 'Elvis' - I'm fairly sure that's not his real name, but I like it, and it often brings to mind some of the Kings greatest hits which I sing while chopping limes and jalapeños at the start of my shift.

Like I mentioned earlier, I can usually get out around 3-330 and head home to my sweet girl, but between her 4 o'clock nap and her 630 bedtime, there's just not enough hours in the day.

My husband constantly reminds me, it's not about the money.

Yes, we have financial needs. We would like to get a place of our own, and get to the point where another baby could be a realistic possibility - financially speaking - but my husband is truly my other half. Where I lose myself to picking up shifts for the extra $ he reminds me of what that extra money actually costs. I'm about to go on a novel length rant about my wonderful, humble, loving, ever-striving husband, but I'll save that for another day.

All in all, going to work is really just a break from my job, and my job is the most important job there could ever be. My job is to love, my job is to cuddle and snuggle, my job is to comfort and most importantly, my job is to raise my baby girl into a women of God, who knows her worth and value.

I really do love waiting tables, going to work is awesome and getting a pay check is even cooler but at the end of the day, it's not going to work that I care about, it's about coming home and doing my job as a mother.
My job = my blessing.