How Did I Get Here?

Last night I was wondering this, from a career standpoint. I love my job but it was not what I set out to do. From the time I was 3 until my freshman year of college I wanted to be a pediatrician. Then after a quarter of college I decided that: A. I wasn't willing to work so hard in my studies and B. I didn't want to go to school that long. So I plugged along. My mom told me I just needed to get a degree in 4 years so that's what I did. I ended up with a biology degree. You know what you can do with one of those? You can A. go work in a lab or B. go back to school to do something else. Since my parents were done footing my education bill I decided I would work in a lab. To bad no one wanted me. Kyle found a job right away and that killed me, especially when I wrote his resume (I write killer resumes) and chose his interview outfit. Why him? Well, because the guy that hired him said "girls don't make good research assistants." WTF? In that case he would be right because there's no way I could have worked for such an arrogant, sexist asshole. So Kyle supported us with his grand 27,000/yr salary while I kept working at CVS for $8/hour hating every minute of my life. We got married so I had health insurance (UC's is very good or was at the time and we didn't have to pay for it), and Kyle begged me to quit my job because I was so miserable (and thus making him miserable). I did quit but just when my 2 weeks was up I landed a new job.

The new job was working as a receptionist for a doctor's office. I was way overqualified (you only needed a high school diploma), but I actually enjoyed the work and the people (minus the evil Jewish doctors--but I just tried to fly under their radar). And I made more per hour than Kyle did at the lab. The job was only part-time and I didn't see myself being a receptionist the rest of my life, just like I didn't see myself living in our shitty condo which was all we'd be able to afford if I didn't make a change. One of the perks of being married to a UC employee, besides the cheap health insurance is that I could go back to school for virtually nothing. So that's what I set about doing (while Kyle went for his master's in education and teaching certificate). I just looked up their degree catalog and narrow it down to going to ultrasound school (a one year certificate) or becoming a genetic counselor (a master's program). The person I talked to in the genetic counseling department kept it real and told me I would most likely have to move to find a job in that field. I was unable and unwilling to do that, so I applied for the ultrasound program. I completed the last remaining pre-requisites, did my interview . . .and promptly got wait-listed. I was devastated. I had put all my eggs in that basket. Thankfully I got the call a few weeks later that I was accepted. Whew!

In September 2005 I started the program. This was about the time I realized I didn't know shit about what doing ultrasounds entailed. I was the person you would show your fetal ultrasound pictures to and say "uh no I can't tell what that is." I thought I was going to die the first time our instructor showed us the vaginal probe--we're going to put that where??? Talk about a leap of faith. Looking back I realize how lucky I am to be happy in my field since I did not research it at all. In addition the way all my clinical sites were set up I had to learn how to scan right-handed, no small feat for this lefty. The classroom part came very easily to me, the scanning not so much. I was definitely not a natural and my "handicap" certainly didn't help. I survived and finished in August 2006. In October I got my first job. The pay was good, but the job was on the west side (a whole new world for this east sider). Plus I had to take call which was a nightmare. Still, it gave me some much needed confidence and practice. I became damn good at scanning gallbladders and breasts.

When I was on maternity leave I really starting freaking out about going back to work. Taking call before was bad enough, but with a newborn?? It seemed like a tall order. So I applied for a few jobs. I interviewed for my current position--my boss called me 2 hours after I applied online. I could tell they liked me, but I was worried because they did OB there and we did virtually no OB at the hospital. Ultrasound is definitely a "if you don't use it, you lose it" field so that scared me. Luckily they didn't mind--in fact my boss said he was kind of glad I was an OB neophyte since that way they could teach me to do things their way. The biggest selling point to me was the job had no call and I didn't have to work weekends or holidays. So I got the job and went back to feeling like a big fat failure. Scanning livers and kidneys are one thing, but a moving fetus--that's a whole new ballgame. I got the hang of though and now I love scanning OB (although I still love those gallbladders, too). It is very satisfying to get to help people at their happiest (and worst) moments. The people I work with are fantastic and my boss is very hands-off. I just get to do my own thing. So that's how I got here--and "here" is a great place to be.

It's Days Like Today . . .

. . .that make me feel like Logan is going to be an only child. I have no idea how I will handle 2 screaming children. I just have the one now and I wanted to throw myself off a building this evening. Tantrums really are the devil's work.

I Love Wednesdays

I love Wednesdays because they're my day off during the week. Kyle's off during the day, too, so a lot of times we take a little family field trip (today we went to the museum). Other times I meet up with one of my besties and her little ones. Every once in a blue moon I even take a nap while Logan is napping. However I've not been very productive on the home front lately, so I vowed today would be different. I got up around 7, got Logan up, fed us both breakfast, took a shower, blow dried my hair, got myself and and Logan dressed, went to lunch, went to the museum, did 3 loads of laundry, did all the dishes, worked out for 45 minutes, had dinner, packed my lunch and Logan's bag for tomorrow, laid out my clothes and Logan's for tomorrow, and ran solo Fussy Patrol from 3 until bedtime. I am EXHAUSTED. I almost can't wait to go back to work so I can take a break.

No Longer a Step Virgin

My MIL teaches a step aerobics class at the local YMCA, so today my SIL and mom decided we'd try it. If my MIL ever needs a fallback career she'd be a hell of a motivational speaker (I've been on the receiving end of many a motivational speech from her). Add to that her overall peppiness and penchant for fitness and she's perfect for the job. I figured since I've been working out steadily 3x a week for the past month the class probably wouldn't make me keel over. It turns out I was right. I was also right about how uncoordinated I am--I definitely got tripped up a few times. Luckily I made it through the class without falling on my face so I consider that a success. We did 40 minutes of step and then about 10 minutes of exercises using free weights. I gotta say I don't know if I would have made it through that part had I not already been doing many of those exercises. Then it was on to the mat for ab work. Wowza. My abs are sooooo sore. I'm definitely feeling the burn even 3.5 hours later. All in all it was fun though and I'm planning on going back next Thursday.

Overwhelmed and Underprepared

So, let me start by saying I am pretty much a worthless lump in the evenings on days I work. I am always just exhausted after work. Not so conducive to working out, taking care of Logan, or any of the other things on life's to-do list. Luckily Kyle is Superdad, always picking up the slack. On Wednesday nights he tutors at a local learning facility to make a few extra bucks. I'm off on Wednesdays, so I'm up to the task of running Fussy Patrol. Well, now in addition to that he's decide to privately tutor a 13 year old girl one night a week. I know he's doing this because he wants to feel like he's pulling his weight financially and I don't fault him for that, but that's another night of me handling Logan on my own and it will inevitably a night after I've worked all day. This honestly scares the shit out of me. For starters, my sweet little angel turns into the devil around 5pm most days. He is usually sooo crabby from 5 to 7 for some reason and some days it's nearly unbearable. You cannot make this child happy. Also, when I do have the gumption to work out it's virtually impossible to do it if there's not someone to ride herd of Logan. He is in.to.everything. And I am serious about my workout routine, I've been getting in at least 3 days, I don't want to fall off the wagon. I know I need to suck it up, that I've been spoiled, and that it will be fine, but I'm a little freaked out right now.