Almost two months ago, I came to the end of a journey that spanned over a decade. For a variety of reasons, I decided it was time to quit my full-time job. I had been building a career in journalism, public relations and marketing during that time, as well as a family of four. Although not particularly competitive with others, I prided myself on steady growth and constant learning along the way. In some ways, I felt on the verge of “making it.” I had worked my way up from entry level to manager to senior exec. I was confident, skilled and good at what I did.
But then one day, I had just had enough.
Prima and Secondo are only going to be young once. And they are getting old — fast. They needed me more and more, and in more ways than I ever knew they could. As it turned out, it was more than the ever-juggling-amazing-mom-and-professional could handle.
It was a good ride, but I decided it was time to get off.
So, now, two months later, I am master of the Battle of Tinkerbell sheets. (As well as fledgling-house-organizer-of-a-home-in-neglected-disarray-for-the-last-ten-years, chief chef + meal planner, chauffeur, patch ironer, laundress, nearly-completed-master’s-candidate and part-time freelancer for all of your social media, marketing and story and copywriting needs.) The Tinkerbell sheets showed up during a leisurely morning stroll through Target with Nonna. Nonna spotted the sheets in a clearance end cap and brandished them in front of a smiling Secondo. They went into the basket.
Then they came home with us as Nonna smiled and waved us away, giggling.
It was time for bed hours later and Secondo wanted the sheets placed on Prima’s bunk bed. Prima was not pleased. (She’s too old for Tinkerbell sheets.) Prima protested. Secondo screamed, Daddy retrieved the sheets helpfully (ahem) from the car where I had purposely left them.
Prima flagged, Secondo rallied and on the sheets went.
But it was the first thing they were arguing about in the darkness of the morning hour. Before coffee. Prima insisted: the Tinkerbell sheets MUST come off the bed. It was her bed and she wouldn’t have Tinkerbell as a guest. It was bad enough she had her sister sleeping in the bottom bunk. (She’s not truly upset about that.) Secondo is not necessarily a morning person, so she just stared. We agreed, Secondo squinted, shrugged and began plotting for this evening’s rally.
We’ll see. But before I went to pick up the bambini from school, I neglected the laundry and various other pending items, and put those stinking Tinkerbell sheets on Secondo’s own bed.
She squealed in delight when she saw them on her own bed later — was this just fancy maneuvering? I didn’t quite trust her enthusiasm and have braced for bedtime. First question Prima asked as she boarded my bus: Did you move the Tinkerbell sheets?
To be continued on that saga…
On another note: I will now be updating this blog regularly, as a sort of scribble board, chronicling this new adventure. I’m also busy writing a manuscript for my master’s final project, so you might hear about that, too. I hope it interests you. Oh and mi amore risposte (responses)!