I was tucking my son in last night, giving him kisses all over his face, when he says to me,
“Mom, how come you have to work every day? — I really miss you.”
Today, I miss being home with my kids. I miss not working. I miss the tediousness of walking back and forth to school three times a day and seeing the sunshine on their faces mid-afternoon as they tell me about their day.
I even miss the mountains of dishes and dirty laundry.
Lately, I’ve spent so much energy on getting through the weekly routine alive. Today is the first day I started to wonder if I was doing the right thing by going back to work.
It’s hard to tell sometimes.
Especially when I hear my daughters little voice tremble at night when she says,
“Mommy, why did you have to get a job? — Daddy already has one.”
My mom never worked outside the home. For as long as I can remember, her job was my brother and me.
She was damn good at it too.
The idea of my kids having two working parents sits heavy on my shoulders today. It’s foreign to me, and my kids. I’m doing my best to find a balance.
I’m only working part-time. The extra income has been an incredible relief. There is a slight possibility my kids don’t feel any less loved for the twenty-something hours I don’t spend with them.
But.. is everyone okay?
Am I traumatizing them by disappearing all of a sudden?
Raising a family is still hard as fuck
Kudos to the parents out there that work full time and still manage to keep their shit together. It’s humbling to be on the other side. I almost want to take back all my complaints about being a stay-at-home-mom.
If anything, working again has shown me what I do in my mom/wife role is just as important, if not, a little more, than before. The way it’s expanded my identity feels amazing.
I remember, not too long ago, anxiously awaiting the day I would go back to work. That day has come. I couldn’t be more grateful for my life than I am right now, and to have found another job that I love almost as much as I love being a mom.
It’s hard to put into words how surreal it feels to get paid for being me.
When I’m trying to sort out a crapload of emotions, taking the time to practice gratitude usually answers all those why and what-if questions.
It has yet to fail me.
I am grateful for my mom and dad for filling in the gaps while I’m at work. The family has come a long way together since my dad’s hospital stay. It’s refreshing AF to be in a better place and have my uber-supportive parents back.
I heard this rumor about how time passes so fast when you’re a parent. When I was knee-deep in diapers and gummy smiles it felt like that’s the way life would be like forever.
Until one morning, I dropped my fourth-grader and kindergartner off at school and watched them run to class in slow motion. I caught a glimpse of their smiling profiles and books bags bouncing behind them.
It took my breath away when I realized what everyone had been telling me was true.
It’s true, time does pass so fast
I am grateful to my husband for holding the fort down all these years and giving me the opportunity to snuggle with my babies and watch them grow.
It’s a work-in-progress but this whole me-getting-a-job thing seems to be working out better than I ever thought it would. (stress and growing pains aside.)
Last, but certainly not least, I am grateful for the day off today.
Previously published on medium
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