Parenting just flat out sucks sometimes.
Then I peered down at my beautiful, sweet baby with chubby cheeks and wispy hair sleeping soundly in my arms, and I immediately beat myself up internally for thinking that.
She’s amazing and perfect in every way, Salem. How dare you think she’s ruined your life!
Geez, what is wrong me?
Carefully, I laid Alexis down in her crib and swaddled the plush pink blanket around her like a cocoon. Please, God, let her sleep, I thought to myself as I tiptoed out of her room.
As suspected, I had to shove my husband back over onto his side of the bed. As soon as my head hit the pillow, I looked at the clock. Large, digital numbers taunted me with their burning red lights, reminding me of just what little time I had left to rest. 4:16 AM. Kill me now.
I’d barely fallen into a deep slumber when I heard Dixie barking down the hall. What. The. Hell?
I scrambled out of bed and poked my head into the hallway. “Shut up, Dixie,” I hissed.
The stupid mongrel continued barking at the beam of lights that poured through the windows, reflecting on the wall. The newspaper delivery guy was making his rounds. “It’s just the newspaper, Dixie. Shhhh.”
I swear, if I could’ve gotten to her fast enough, I would’ve delivered a swift kick to her black, Labradoodle behind. But I couldn’t, and before I knew it, I heard the familiar, disheartening shrill of Alexis’s cries coming from her bedroom.
I glanced back at the clock. 4:48 AM.
“Dammit!” I yelled and kicked the wall, immediately regretting it as the pain shot through my toes.
Needless to say, my first morning back to work following maternity leave didn’t exactly start out smoothly.
“Good morning,” I said flatly, glancing up at my first case. I really did love my job, but with only two hours of good solid sleep under my belt each and every night for twelve weeks straight, I was barely functioning.
On many of those long, exhausting days with Alexis, I had been eager to get back to work. I was ready to get back into some sort of a routine. I’d started working at Fairbanks a month before I found out I was pregnant. It was my first real job straight out of grad school. Graham balked at the idea of me working for a juvenile justice center. He worried it might be too dangerous, but I was drowning in student loans and counseling jobs were scarce, so when a great job with good benefits came along, I jumped at the opportunity.
Fairbanks was an all-male juvenile justice center serving a five county radius. It was a fairly large facility with several cell blocks. Each block had at least one or two counselors and supervisor. I worked in cell Block-A, seeing kids one-on-one and in group settings. At times, it was overwhelming, but it could also be incredibly rewarding. I was eager to get back into it.
I felt slightly guilty dropping Alexis off at the babysitter that morning. It was the first time Alexis had spent time with a sitter, but I’d known Mrs. Betty for years, so I knew she was in good hands. Mrs. Betty treated all her daycare children like her own. She was a sweet lady who could calm a screaming baby to sleep in a matter of seconds. She was what I would deem “The Baby Whisperer.” Alexis would be just fine. Besides, I could never admit it to anyone, but deep down, I was ready for a break. I was in no rush to get back home. Going home just reminded me of how much my life had changed in the past three months. I never knew in all of my twenty-four years just how much I’d appreciate going to work. It was nice to get away from the house for a change of pace.
“Mornin’.” The dark haired, brown-eyed teen shuffled his feet into my office and plopped down in the chair. His sullen eyes stared at the floor.
I glanced down at his chart. Chris King.
“Chris, right? It says here you came from East Jenkins.”
“Yeah.” Clenching his teeth, his jaw twitched. I must’ve struck a nerve by mentioning his school. But besides his jaw, he didn’t move a muscle.
“Well, Chris, I’m Salem Honeycutt.” I reached out to shake his hand, but he didn’t budge. “I will be your counselor while you are here at Fairbanks. You’ll be visiting me at least three times a week.”
He huffed and rolled his eyes, sliding his feet across the floor out in front of him. Slouching in his chair, he folded his arms across his chest. The gray jumpsuit he wore was far too baggy, and the state-issued, black beanie sat low on his brow with a few sprigs of brown hair flipping out from under it. He glared at me with his deep, espresso-colored eyes. Frustration and annoyance were evident in his expression. “Whatever,” he groaned. Hmmm, tough nut to crack.
Fresh out of grad school and still green with experience, I nervously shuffled through the papers in his file. In the few months that I’d been at Fairbanks, I’d learned very quickly that the kids here weren’t as eager to participate as the children at Over the Rainbow Play Therapy Center where I’d spent the last semester of my internship.