STAY YOUNG, GO DANCING.

OKAY. Did y'all miss me? Week one of the new job has officially ended and I have three words to describe my experience.

PROPS. TO. MOMS.

I pretty much knew going in that I was going to feel this way. But still. Its just pure insanity. Let me give you a breakdown of the family:

Mom/Tresa, pediatrician, 8 months pregnant
Dad/Clay, cardiologist
Ben, 4, MLB enthusiast, Mini Georgia Bulldog, Doodleship Captain
Wes, 1.5, "Ball," "Baluga," "Choo-Choo," - pretty decent at putt putt 
Baby Boy, will be joining us on July 5th :)

Right now the boys are still finishing up partial days in daycare, but the family is still paying me for forty hours a week regardless of how many hours they use me... wut. Tresa said she was happy to because I was the right fit for them, and they would definitely be needing me full time once Baby Boy gets here. What a blessing. Its a nice change to have such a generous boss and I think about it everyday as to not take it for granted.

Week High: Every night at bed time, Ben says prayers and five things he is thankful for and I made the list on Tuesday. That was such a sweet feeling for me because things with Ben  have been very high and very low. We have a great time when we're playing baseball. But he is struggling with the transition between Mamma and Miss Kelsey (Yes, he calls me Miss Kelsey). It all comes with time. 

Week Low: On Friday when I was driving Ben threw his Braves hat at me. When I explained to him why it was dangerous, he laughed. So he went to his room and was told he could come out when he was ready to apologize- then he hit Wes because that made it mad. So he went back to his room, cried, then came out and apologized to Wes. And then we all had a happy dinner.

Before I started this job, I sort of had in the back of my mind that I wanted kids soon (soon being relative) --- but now I'm like NO Kelsey listen to Death Cab for Cutie and STAY YOUNG, GO DANCING!!!!!! I just mean, there's no rush. So many more things to do and experiences to have in my twenties. 

Granted every time Wesley looks up at me and says, "More, please!" and hands me his sippy cup, I think to myself, "pretty please let my future child be as cute as this little nugget."

Who knows? I'm sure my thoughts will change a million more times as the weeks go on.



Thanks for reading