I don't know.
Let me preface this post by acknowledging that I am completely irrational and emotional and some could debate that I'm even a little bit loony. I'll just blame it on the hormones from breastfeeding and the fact that I put entirely too much pressure on myself.
There. Got that out of the way.
I had somewhat of an emotional breakdown this morning. Rick and I have been talking a lot about the plans for our future and keep having the dreaded should-I-go-back-to-work-and-if-so-then-when-and-oh-yeah-where-will-I-go-and-what-will-I-do-and-will-I-really-be-able-to-leave-my-baby conversation lately. We keep asking each other the same question, "what are we going to do?" and keep coming up with the oh-so riveting and decisive answer, "I don't know." Over and over. Which is kind of a problem.
The original plan when we decided I was going to stay home with Harrison was that it would be for a year. That's what we had budgeted for and that's as far as we thought about. I was just so thrilled to leave my job for my baby that a year sounded like never-ending bliss. Well there are only 3 months left of that never-ending bliss and now I'm feeling a lot of anxiety about what to do next. Due to ridiculously expensive healthcare and, you know, wanting to have food to eat in the future, I've been stressed out about the whole situation and the need to come up with a decisive plan.
I had visions of what life would be like as a stay-at-home-mom, and I have to say that reality has proved to be much different. I don't have it together nearly as much as I just knew I would, with all this extra time I would have on my hands not working. Ha! Extra time. That's just funny. The truth is, I actually find myself missing work sometimes. I miss getting out of the house and having time to get lost in my own thoughts and be able to accomplish something without getting distracted fifty million times in the process. When I'm up in my elbows in baby food mush and have spit up in my hair and am fighting with my baby every time it's time to change his diaper or, heaven forbid, try to put clothes on the strong-willed, independent, STUBBORN child, I often miss enjoying quiet lunches at my desk and having pleasant conversations with customers and colleagues. When I'm vacuuming every single morning because I live in a zoo and when I feel like it is physically impossible to catch up on the copious amounts of laundry that come along with a reflux baby, I miss my mind being challenged and the pats on the back and the "good jobs." I knew I was good at what I did in my corporate life and I took pride in my performance. Now I find myself questioning my competence as a mother and wife almost on a daily basis.
If I'm being completely honest, the transition from working to staying home has felt in many ways more of a sacrifice than as a pleasure. Please don't misunderstand me; I am so extremely grateful that I get to spend these fleeting moments with my baby. I absolutely adore him and love getting down on the floor playing with him and kissing him until he's annoyed with me (which takes like 2 kisses) and just experiencing life through his eyes. I just get lonely and really miss feeling appreciated and important and smart and like I have an identity outside of motherhood. Of course Rick does a great job of showing appreciation but it's just not as gratifying as having tangible evidence of a job well done. Right now my job performance is measured by a loaded dishwasher, empty laundry baskets, and a clean and fed baby. Well, at least I try for the clean baby part but he refuses to cooperate with that one.
All of this to say that this morning, when I finally realized that it's very likely that I'll need to go back to work to contribute to the family financially again, I just lost it. I cried and cried and cried and I'm crying right now typing this because while I have numerous moments throughout my days where I want to pull my hair out, the bottom line is that I don't want to leave my baby. While sometimes I feel like this is the most selfless and sacrificing job I've ever done, I know in my heart of hearts that it's my favorite job I've ever done. While I know that there are plenty of trustworthy daycares and that he probably won't even miss me, I also know that nobody else can take care of him the way his mommy can. While I know that there are millions of working moms out there and everything will in fact be okay if I have to become one of them, I also feel like being a full-time mom is what I'm supposed to be doing in this season of my life and that in a small way, I'm failing us both by going back to work. I know that his babyhood is flying by and soon he's going to be a little boy and then a big boy and then out the door to college, and I want to be in these moments with him as much as I possibly can.
So to summarize, sometimes I feel like I really want to go back to work, but I really don't want to go back to work. Makes sense, right? I'm pretty easy to please. See, I told you I was irrational and emotional and a little bit loony.
There. Got that out of the way.
I had somewhat of an emotional breakdown this morning. Rick and I have been talking a lot about the plans for our future and keep having the dreaded should-I-go-back-to-work-and-if-so-then-when-and-oh-yeah-where-will-I-go-and-what-will-I-do-and-will-I-really-be-able-to-leave-my-baby conversation lately. We keep asking each other the same question, "what are we going to do?" and keep coming up with the oh-so riveting and decisive answer, "I don't know." Over and over. Which is kind of a problem.
The original plan when we decided I was going to stay home with Harrison was that it would be for a year. That's what we had budgeted for and that's as far as we thought about. I was just so thrilled to leave my job for my baby that a year sounded like never-ending bliss. Well there are only 3 months left of that never-ending bliss and now I'm feeling a lot of anxiety about what to do next. Due to ridiculously expensive healthcare and, you know, wanting to have food to eat in the future, I've been stressed out about the whole situation and the need to come up with a decisive plan.
I had visions of what life would be like as a stay-at-home-mom, and I have to say that reality has proved to be much different. I don't have it together nearly as much as I just knew I would, with all this extra time I would have on my hands not working. Ha! Extra time. That's just funny. The truth is, I actually find myself missing work sometimes. I miss getting out of the house and having time to get lost in my own thoughts and be able to accomplish something without getting distracted fifty million times in the process. When I'm up in my elbows in baby food mush and have spit up in my hair and am fighting with my baby every time it's time to change his diaper or, heaven forbid, try to put clothes on the strong-willed, independent, STUBBORN child, I often miss enjoying quiet lunches at my desk and having pleasant conversations with customers and colleagues. When I'm vacuuming every single morning because I live in a zoo and when I feel like it is physically impossible to catch up on the copious amounts of laundry that come along with a reflux baby, I miss my mind being challenged and the pats on the back and the "good jobs." I knew I was good at what I did in my corporate life and I took pride in my performance. Now I find myself questioning my competence as a mother and wife almost on a daily basis.
If I'm being completely honest, the transition from working to staying home has felt in many ways more of a sacrifice than as a pleasure. Please don't misunderstand me; I am so extremely grateful that I get to spend these fleeting moments with my baby. I absolutely adore him and love getting down on the floor playing with him and kissing him until he's annoyed with me (which takes like 2 kisses) and just experiencing life through his eyes. I just get lonely and really miss feeling appreciated and important and smart and like I have an identity outside of motherhood. Of course Rick does a great job of showing appreciation but it's just not as gratifying as having tangible evidence of a job well done. Right now my job performance is measured by a loaded dishwasher, empty laundry baskets, and a clean and fed baby. Well, at least I try for the clean baby part but he refuses to cooperate with that one.
All of this to say that this morning, when I finally realized that it's very likely that I'll need to go back to work to contribute to the family financially again, I just lost it. I cried and cried and cried and I'm crying right now typing this because while I have numerous moments throughout my days where I want to pull my hair out, the bottom line is that I don't want to leave my baby. While sometimes I feel like this is the most selfless and sacrificing job I've ever done, I know in my heart of hearts that it's my favorite job I've ever done. While I know that there are plenty of trustworthy daycares and that he probably won't even miss me, I also know that nobody else can take care of him the way his mommy can. While I know that there are millions of working moms out there and everything will in fact be okay if I have to become one of them, I also feel like being a full-time mom is what I'm supposed to be doing in this season of my life and that in a small way, I'm failing us both by going back to work. I know that his babyhood is flying by and soon he's going to be a little boy and then a big boy and then out the door to college, and I want to be in these moments with him as much as I possibly can.
So to summarize, sometimes I feel like I really want to go back to work, but I really don't want to go back to work. Makes sense, right? I'm pretty easy to please. See, I told you I was irrational and emotional and a little bit loony.
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we love you mary