Bring Home The Bacon, Fry It Up In A Pan

(does anybody even remember this song? No? I've just so dated myself.)

Anyway, I can bring home the bacon and fry it up in a pan, because I'm a woman.

A woman with a job. A paying job. In cash.

So, it's contract work, about 10 hours a week, but you guys, it pays me money. M-O-N-E-Y. Like, I can buy a pair of shoes money, or I can take my husband to dinner money. Or I could join the Y money. Real, live, green money.

Mulah. Dead presidents. Clams.

Whatever you call it, I'm making some of it, and I'm so excited.

It's not just the money that I'm excited about. I'm also thrilled that I was considered for and hired for the position -- and I have one. A position. With a title. I know.

This means that I'm really normal -that I've shown the outside world what I feel inside - confident and healthy. (I know that I'll always be working at being better, I think I learned that lesson last week. But this makes me feel normal, you know?)

I feel like this is a huge milestone in my health. To have somebody else recognize that I'm healthy and can be trusted with a project  . . . it means more than I thought it would. Today as I was being trained I thought, " I'm feeling a little overwhelmed. But I also know that I can do it." And I can. I can organize these papers. I can get these mailings out. I can talk to mom's about cord blood. I know all this stuff. I got this.

And outside of being a mom (which is a huge thing) and a wife (which is a huge thing) I haven't felt like that in probably four years.

You guys? I'm a mom. With an outside job. That pays money. People are trusting me. And I feel like  I got this.

Whoa.