Working is okay, I guess. It’s a balancing act. I don’t know how well I would do as a full time stay at home mom. I think I would get bored at times. I think the kids would definitely get bored at times. I love our babysitter. She’s awesome. We were lucky enough to find her via care.com and she has been unbelievably reliable. She’s exceeded all of our expectations. She does crafty crafts with my 5 (almost 6, sad face sad face sad face) month old, for pete’s sake. I would never have the creativity nor the patience to do half of what she does. With all that being said, I really miss my kids during the week. I leave for work after they go to bed at night, their dad takes them to the babysitter before I get home in the morning, and I pick them up around 5pm in the evening. So I basically get to spend 2.5 or 3 hours with my boys on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday nights.
On Thursday mornings after work, I’ve been sending them to the babysitter so I can rest and/or catch up on chores and errands. It’s Thursdays I have the most trouble with. Technically, I could take a two or three hour nap and go get them. But by the time I could go get them, Theo would be taking a nap. And what’s the point of going to get Dexter if I’m just going to have to turn around and go back for Theo a couple of hours later? The thing is though, that I have horrible guilt about sending them to the babysitter on Thursdays. I always feel like I need to explain what I am doing every Thursday so it’s justified that I am not going to be spending every waking second with my kids.
Hey, I have to go to the grocery and the bank today.
Hey, I have company coming this weekend so I need to clean the whole house.
Hey, it’s our anniversary so I’m going to get a haircut and try to find a last minute gift.
Hey, we have an appointment with our financial advisor today.
What I really should say is this:
Hey, I’m freaking tired, I haven’t slept in 2 days, there are cat furballs under my coffee table the size of your head and they’re driving me crazy. I don’t have the energy or the patience to chase Theo around or make cotton ball snowmen with Dexter today. Additionally, I just wanna lay on the couch and watch DVR for two hours because I never, ever get a chance to do so otherwise.
I guess I just wonder if the babysitter or the other moms think I’m a crap mom because I choose to send my kids when, yeah, technically…they could be home with me for that half a day.
I realize now that I have virtually no me-time. Aside from Thursdays, I have no me-time. I’m busy with the kids from the time I wake up in the afternoon until I leave for work through the week. On the weekends, by the time they go to bed, I’m exhausted and I fall asleep on the couch before I can make it through one 30 minute sitcom.
So I’ve been taking advantage of the fact that we pay for Thursdays whether they go or not, and I’ve been sending them to the babysitter while I do something else (or nothing at all). That right there makes me wonder if I’m the opposite of stay-at-home-mom material. Even pondering that out loud makes me feel like crap.
I know I need the time to myself, so why do I feel so guilty? While I was on maternity leave with Dexter, I continued sending Theo to the babysitter 3 days a week because it was just too much trying to take care of my newly toddling toddler and my newborn baby. There were so many times I thought to myself I was glad to be a working mom who had a babysitter to send my older kid to, because if I was a SAHM, that wouldn’t even be an option. How do SAHMs ever get time to themselves? I guess after the babies go to bed….?? Or maybe there actually comes a time when kids play by themselves long enough for a mom to relax for a few? Nah, that doesn’t seem possible.
feeling guilty,
~C~
junk: why working sucks
Our evenings are jam-packed now that I am back to work. Here’s a sample schedule:
4pm: Alarm goes off. Get up. Pump. Make bottles for the next day. Shower. Throw a load of laundry in the washer.
4:45pm: Leave to pick up the kids.
5pm: Arrive at the babysitter’s house and fetch the children.
5:15pm: Get home and start dinner. Feed Dexter.
6:00pm: Eat dinner.
6:20pm: Clean up dinner. Put away leftovers. Wash pots and pans. Load the dishwasher. Wash that day’s bottles. Wash the pump parts.
7:00pm: Play with the kids.
7:30pm: Lay the kids’ clothes out for the next day. Fix Theo’s night night milk and get the babies in pajamas. Give Theo his milk and get him in bed.
8pm: Feed Dexter and get him in bed.
8:30pm: Pack my lunch. Pack the pump bag. Pick up the mess of toys and books scattered across the living room (but why?).
8:58pm: Remember that I started the washer earlier and toss the clothes in the dryer.
9:00pm: Kiss my husband and run out the door. Enjoy 20 minutes of complete calm as I drive to work.
9:30pm-8am: Work.
8:30am: Get home from work. Throw the clothes from the dryer onto the couch and hope that someone folds them later today. Tomorrow would even be good. Hell, let’s just shoot for getting it done before they’re all dirty again. Empty my lunch box. Pump. Refrigerate milk and calculate whether I’ve made enough ounces for the day. Give myself a pat on the back if I have and start panicking if I haven’t. Go to bed.
9:00am – 4pm: Sleep. Or try to, anyway.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Did you notice the one tiny time slot called “Play with the kids” from 7-7:30pm? This is why working sucks. And not just working, but the pumping. So much time is spent washing and preparing bottles. Pumping. Packing the pump bag. Unpacking the pump bag. Cleaning the pump parts. I know it’s worth it and I’m glad that I can give my baby the gift of breast milk but seriously. It would be so much easier if I were a stay-at-home mom. Not life in general, necessarily… but the breastmilking part fo sho.
I shouldn’t complain because some people aren’t able to breastfeed for whatever reason. That would be devastating for me. But, the truth is this, people: it’s a lot of work. I love nursing. There are quiet, peaceful, intimate bonding moments in nursing. Pumping, not as much.
The evenings are about all that day to day maintenance, or more appropriately – junk – when every fiber of me is looking for an excuse hold Dexter while he’s not attached to me. To look into his blue eyes and mirror his smile subconsciously as he gazes up at me. Or to chase Theo down the hall as he looks back at me and realizes I’m closing in on him, causing him to erupt with laughter and run a little bit faster.
The evenings are supposed to be about chatting with Theo over a favorite book or leisurely strolls around the neighborhood as a family. Or laughing at a funny line and dancing to a catchy beat in the Cars movie that we have watched for what seems like the 100th time in half as many days.
Instead, they are full of junk. Maybe the weight of my first full week back is bearing down on me. Maybe it’s just harder being away from Dexter because I know first hand how soon he will be as big and independent as Theo. I’m trying to savor every second with him and it’s hard to do when they are so few and squeezed amidst all the junk.
Those boys are my heart and soul. Man, I miss them. Working sucks.
~C~
hi-ho hi-ho.
I did it. After 12 not-always-glorious (okay, rarely glorious) weeks off, I went back to work. I moaned a bit about having to go back on a Wednesday, which is my Friday, but it worked out just fine. It was kind of a good transition shift. I think I’d be more depressed if I’d gone back with a full 40 hour work week in front of me. Okay, 37.5 hour work week (I work for the state).
I felt like a rusty old machine when I got to work but before I left for the day, I was getting back into the swing of it. Regardless, it didn’t make it any easier to leave the house last night when it was time to make the drive downtown to work.
I dropped the boys off after lunch yesterday so I could squeeze in an afternoon nap and lingered….and lingered….and lingered a bit. What? As it turns out, Dexter was hungry. What’s the point of wasting a bottle and having to go home and pump when I could just hold him and snuggle up to him and smell his little head and kiss his face and … oh yeah, feed him, for just a few minutes.
I thought it would be easier the second time around since I know and love our babysitter. Not so. Apparently the sadness I felt with Theo was only partially due to the fact that I was leaving him with a complete stranger. Now that complete stranger is the person I trust totally and completely with my boys. But it didn’t matter. I still cried on the way home, thinking about the fact that I’ve spent 12 weeks with Dexter and I’ll never get them back. I’ll never be able to spend that much time with him again. I guess it’s about quality and not quantity sometimes.
But, I can do this. I’ve done it before and we’ll all be okay. Everyone says “Dexter’s fine! He’ll do great!” Duh. It’s not him I’m worried about. sadfacesadfacesadface.
smiling through the tears (but not really),
~C~