Almost there
I left work almost two months ago. I still miss it, even with all its stresses. I dream about it. In one dream a few nights ago, I was going on about how I'd love to be back at work, and the publisher of the paper was at my house while I was saying this. He was in the kitchen, where he made some conciliatory remark about how they value employees like me, and would keep all this in mind if a position opens up.
Lately I've been thinking about how I've got to do something with myself. Maybe throw myself into some civic duty. Join the city Parks and Recreation Board. Build houses with Habitat for Humanity. Volunteer at a school. Anything to get out of the house.
When I'm home, my neighbors' children come over to play. They come in waves. One household of children comes, then another. Then one set leaves, and another arrives. We play soccer and we read. I had one girl try sardines today for the first time. Her sister tried minestrone soup yesterday.
I high-fived Caroline, who ate the sardines and acted as if she liked them. I popped open a Sprite for her. She said all the kids come to our house to play. She said it's because I'm so energetic. Not like her mom, she said, who was grumpy most of the time. She went on to describe her mother as being bogged down with work all the time. Work at her day job. Work in the house later.
Then it hit me.
I was that mom. So busy I hardley knew what my kids were doing, let alone what they ate or who their friends were. And when I was home I was always distracted, still not fully unwound from the day, yet racing to get the kids cleaned up and in bed by a reasonable time. It was so brief, the time I had with them each night. Then the whole crazy cycle would start over again in the morning.
I may miss my job beyond belief, but I don't want to go back to being a mom my kids hardly knew. I may have less social interaction, but my kids, who have lived in this house two years, never played with other kids on this street until now. I knew in my heart I needed to leave work, but for a long time, I couldn't see the rewards. Today I did. My kid's friend showed me.
Lately I've been thinking about how I've got to do something with myself. Maybe throw myself into some civic duty. Join the city Parks and Recreation Board. Build houses with Habitat for Humanity. Volunteer at a school. Anything to get out of the house.
When I'm home, my neighbors' children come over to play. They come in waves. One household of children comes, then another. Then one set leaves, and another arrives. We play soccer and we read. I had one girl try sardines today for the first time. Her sister tried minestrone soup yesterday.
I high-fived Caroline, who ate the sardines and acted as if she liked them. I popped open a Sprite for her. She said all the kids come to our house to play. She said it's because I'm so energetic. Not like her mom, she said, who was grumpy most of the time. She went on to describe her mother as being bogged down with work all the time. Work at her day job. Work in the house later.
Then it hit me.
I was that mom. So busy I hardley knew what my kids were doing, let alone what they ate or who their friends were. And when I was home I was always distracted, still not fully unwound from the day, yet racing to get the kids cleaned up and in bed by a reasonable time. It was so brief, the time I had with them each night. Then the whole crazy cycle would start over again in the morning.
I may miss my job beyond belief, but I don't want to go back to being a mom my kids hardly knew. I may have less social interaction, but my kids, who have lived in this house two years, never played with other kids on this street until now. I knew in my heart I needed to leave work, but for a long time, I couldn't see the rewards. Today I did. My kid's friend showed me.
posted by MJG at 10:49 PM
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