Good Writer, Bad Mom?
I've always been one of those "the grass is greener on the other side" kinda folks. I'm not proud of this, it's just the way it is.
When I was pregnant with Henry, I couldn't wait for him to arrive. Obviously there were a lot of reasons for this, but a big reason was the fact that I was going to quit my full-time job and stay home with our new bundle of joy.
How great would it be to sleep in, hang out at the pool, take walks, prepare delicious family meals, and take the baby to lunch with my girlfriends? Now that I'd be a stay-at-home mom, I would have the time to do the things I hadn't been able to do for so long - I'd be able to really enjoy life.
Three months after the little bundle arrived, I was wondering if I'd made the right decision. Being a stay-at-home mom is seriously hard work! (I'll also say that I think I was suffering with some "baby blues" as well.) I began to resent my husband because he got to go to work all day. He'd have time to check his personal email. He'd have time to catch up with some online news sites. He'd be able to chat on the phone with his friends. He could get in his car and turn the radio up really loud. He could go out to lunch with friends, colleagues, by himself - whatever he wanted.
I, on the other hand, was stuck at home with this baby that pooped, peed, ate, and didn't sleep. I wore sweatpants. I didn't wear makeup. It was January, so my long walks I had planned weren't happening as frequently as I'd imagined they would. Obviously, the pool wasn't open yet. Even as a stay-at-home mom, I still hated to cook just as much as I did before baby (isn't that supposed to change when you become a mom?). Lunch with my girlfriends? Yeah, right. Most of my friends were still childless and had absolutely no clue what I was going through. All they wanted to talk about was the hot guy they had met a few nights before, and all I wanted to do was cry about how fat, ugly, and sleep-deprived I had become. It was a tough year for me.
I really wanted to go back to work.
How wonderful would it be to have time to myself every once in a while - in my car, my cubicle, the bathroom, wherever! I'd be able to engage in adult conversations about things other than red trucks, blue trucks, gray trucks, big trucks, buses, helicopters, and going potty or poop. I'd be able to eat lunch without being interrupted with Spaghettios that are too hot or spilled milk, or someone asking me for a bite of my sandwich because theirs isn't as good as mine. I'd get to come home to a smiling, excited little boy who would yell, "MOMMY!" and make my heart melt.
He really makes my heart melt.
My 2.5-year gig as a stay-at-home mom is officially about to end.
I've accepted a full-time writing position with a non-profit called the American Animal Hospital Association.
I'm so happy, excited, grateful... I think it is the perfect job for me and I can't wait to get started. But I'm also so sad to be leaving my little boy that I've gotten to know so well for the past two-and-a-half years. Sure, we've had our moments, but doesn't every relationship? He's my buddy, and my days are going to be considerably less interesting without him around to keep me on my toes. For the summer, he'll be entertaining our little 18-year-old nanny (who'd better take really good care of him). And come fall, he'll be heading to Blessed Sacrament preschool.
I'll be writing for AAHA.
They'll be talking about trucks with Henry.
They're so lucky.
I love you, Henry.