I started my new job this week. So far, so good. I'm working 3 days a week, and I'm coordinating the design, implementation, and evaluation of an obesity prevention program for Latinos in 6 sites across the country. I think it's a perfect fit for my background.
Our nanny, Michele, has been doing great with the kids. Dad was a little worried about leaving her with all 3 on Monday so he had Marie spend the night at his house, and he brought her home after lunch on Monday. That way, Michele only had 2 in the morning, but she handled 2 and 3 marvelously. Of course, Dad overfed Marie, and she barfed all over him that night, but that's to be expected with Dad and Marie.
Michele has triplet nephews, and she has helped care for them since they were born. They were tiny little preemies so she even has experience with babies smaller than mine. She also nannied for a family with triplets for several years and those kids just started Pre-K this year. I think she's enjoying taking care of little babies again. She just smothers them with love and attention, and they respond very well to her. I think having her here has made my transition back to the working world much easier. I completely trust her and don't feel guilty about leaving them with her.
My part-time arrangement also makes me feel better about the situation. I only work Mondays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays. I wanted to have Fridays or Mondays off so that I would have long weekends. However, I found that going back to back days last week was a little rough. I guess I'll get used to it.
Billy was a model husband last Sunday night. He said that since I was going back to work for my first day, he would handle all night feedings with Vivian, and he did! It was very sweet of him.
Winnie has now become the babies' night watch dog. She starts off by coming into our room first and crying at the foot of our bed for one of us to lift her up on the bed. We have a new bed, and it's really high off the ground. She's either too lazy to make the jump at night and/or her leg injury does not allow her to get up there. Anyway, we're suckers, and we put her in the bed. I am probably going to break my back doing it, seeing as she weighs 90 lbs.
Usually, Billy is in our bedroom at first, and I'm in the babies' room trying to get them to sleep. Once I come back from the babies' room to the bedroom, Winnie jumps out of bed and trots down the hall. She sets up camp right in front of the babies' door. She stays there until they have their first middle of the night feed. When I walk down the hall, step over her, and go in their room, she gets up and heads back to the bedroom. I guess she figures they are being taken care of at that point and her shift has ended. It's really cute.
So back to my job...My office is downtown, and I take Marta in. I feel like such an environmentalist! It's actually perfect because the parking lot is only one exit away from our house, and I don't even have to step foot outside to get to my building from my Marta stop. I figured one of my biggest complaints about the burbs was the traffic, and if I could avoid that, I would feel better about life OTP. For those of you who aren't familiar with Atlanta, we have a highway (285) that is built all around the city. If you live inside 285, you are ITP or inside the perimeter, and outside of those limits you are OTP-outside the perimeter. I lived most of my life ITP, and this move OTP has been rather traumatic for me but I'm adjusting.
Door to door with taking Marta, I usually can get to the office in about an hour, but only if I leave before 7:30. After that, all hell breaks loose on the streets of East Cobb! That's okay by me because I prefer to get into the office early and leave a little early to beat traffic home in the afternoon.
When I'm at the office, I pump about every 3-4 hours. I'm used to pumping all the time because I have been doing that since the babies were born. However, it's weird to have to tote my pump back and forth on Marta and sit in an office around a bunch of strangers while pumping. Yesterday, I had my door closed while I was pumping and someone came by to drop off a package for me. He did a quick knock on the door and opened it before I could say that I was pumping. When he opened the door, he quickly shielded his eyes and somewhat freaked out. He said, "Oh my God. I'm so sorry." Then, he ran out. It was as if I had singed his retinas with my pumping. He was mortified. I tried to find him later to say that it was no big deal, but I don't know where he sits. I don't even know who he is. My office space is subleased from another company, and I don't know the people that work for that other agency. Oh well, I guess I'll run into him at some point.
I think I'll make a little sign for my door to warn people when I am pumping. Do you think there's clip art for that? Ha! Maybe a cartoon picture of a breast with liquid coming out like a sprinkler? I could care less about someone walking in because I typically have my shirt pulled over the breast shields, but I think it makes other folks uncomfortable...especially dudes.
I have lots of other updates, but I'll write some separate entries. This one is already too long.
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