Today…is my first day…JOBLESS.

I’ve had some form of a job since I was 14. I started working at my moms dental office in the summer, avoiding making appointment confirmation calls (cuz we all know I hate the phone), and mastering a really out dated computer system, y’all remember DOS? ha, yea… I then “upgraded” to spending WAY too many years working for Putt Putt….I was a glorified babysitter who got to clean up vomit, cake, soda, and give out annoying prizes to bratty kids. Oh, and I also went around and sprayed air freshener around the stanky kids who had been playing dance dance revolution for FAR too many hours and now smelled like an ogres foot…it was super. I got to eat cake and tootsie rolls, and it was a place where whacking your boss with water balloons and golf club grips was encouraged…so it wasn’t ALL bad. I also spent a summer working at a deli…which was AWFUL…I like me some pickles, but dealing with pickles everyday? No thanks…seriously felt like I smelled like pickles for like 3 months. Post college, I had a job lined up before I even graduated so…this is the first time…I’m officially…JOBLESS.

Don’t feel bad for me. I didn’t lose my job. I wasn’t fired because someone found my blog and was offended by my rantings via gifs and making fun of reality TV. I wasn’t fired at all. I quit.

Yup, I quit a well paying job at a big company where I only worked 3 days a week…what am I stupid? Lord I hope not.

Since about November, I’ve been doing a helluva lot of soul searching when it comes to my job and raising da kid. I hmmm’d and haw’d a lot about even coming back post-extended (very extended) maternity leave in July, but I decided I would give it a go….Go was given…now its time for me to GO.

I’m joining the ranks of all the other moms I know who quit their jobs once their kid turned about 1. And now I know why…

1 year olds…are…HARD.

I find this to be a super challenging age, maybe the toughest age yet. They’re not old enough to really be disciplined (even though I try…any ideas people?!)…but they know when they’re doing something they shouldn’t…because they turn back and give you that “come and get me woman cuz I’m about to DISOBEY” sly little grin..then scurry off the dump out the dogs water bowl all over themselves.

They want to do things that they can’t, but feel really strongly about doing…like walking…or climbing up the desk…or the stairs…or up the wall of the tub (seriously attempted to climb up the soap holder…). They toss food on the floor to feed the dog…they can’t quit figure out a spoon or fork…they have to learn how to use a new sippy cup..it’s just TERRIBLE. And  me attempting work from home wasn’t making it worse, it just wasn’t making it better.

Like the time I was on a conference call and homeboy split his lip open cuz he fell on the edge of the table…THANK THE LORD FOR THE MUTE BUTTON. Or the time he smacked my laptop and turned everything sideways and I couldn’t figure out how to change it back for about 30 minutes…yup. Or all the times he begged for my attention by grabbing onto my leg and I had to tell him “not now”…I got tired of telling him not now. He is my now. Time to tell my job, not now.

As hard as this age is…and as weird as it is to not have an employer…at least not one over the age of 12 months. I’m pretty stoked y’all. I’m pretty stoked to be able to see him and really BE with him everyday. I’m pretty stoked to be able to unleash my creative outlet and actually do what I want to do. I’m pretty stoked that I get to rip tiny pieces of paper up and make him seriously lose his mind (and butt control cuz he laughed so hard he farted) for as long as he wants…

I’m not really sure what the future holds for me…All I know is I have a really supportive network, including a rock star of a husband who is letting me basically do what I want…cuz he’s the greatest. I’m still going to write ( I have random ideas like a childrens book running through my head…oh and this brain garbage dump that is my blog, love y’all). I’m still going to take pictures. I’m still hoping to do consulting, but more on terms that the dictator of the household (the child) approves of…meaning things that I can squeeze in during nap times, swim lessons, and future park excursions…

Official Stay At Home Mom status….gulp.