Time's Up

I've been a SAHM off and on since Playette was born.

I had always planned to stay home with any small children I might one day have. In fact, that was one of the things that I asked when BD and I were dating. "Would you be ok with me staying at home after any children are born?"

Well, actually, what I may have really said was, "...after we get married?" but he gave me the side-eye to that one and I figured that wasn't going to happen.

After Playette was born and we received her diagnosis, things got murky. I didn't want to go back to work, but not because I couldn't bear being away from my child. I absolutely did not have one of those bonds with her that you always hear about. I don't recall ever telling anyone that "I've never felt this type of love" or any similar sentiment. She was my new job. She needed things and it was my duty to get those things done. She wasn't really a burden to me, but more of an obligation. Certainly not the baby that "made my heart swell so much that it was going to burst." Or something along those lines.

I really wish I had felt that way though, y'know? The only tears I shed were ones of worry and guilt, not of happiness.

But, anyway, after about 8 months and a cross-country move, I went back into the workplace. That was early 2008. I stayed there until I went into part-time status last summer, right before BD deployed. By October, I was done. I started using my banked up vacation hours until December. Then it was time to move again and I figured that we'd get settled and I'd find something to do here. Certainly, there'd be a wealth of opportunities and I'd find the right position quickly!

Except no. It didn't happen like that at all. It was long and drawn-out and frustrating. BD would remind me that he wasn't pushing me to go back, but there was something in me that said it was time.

I mean, I get a lot done during the day at home, between appointments and phone calls and emails and meetings and sometimes laundry, but, overall, I'm not awesome at it. Dinner isn't always ready on time. Plenty still goes un-cleaned. Playette isn't excelling at all numbers of things because I'm spending time stimulating her brain with projects and books and flashcards.

It's just not what I expected from myself. I'm not meeting my own expectations.

I know, I know. I could lower them. Surely, I'm not being realistic with trying to put myself in the Supermom category.

But I still feel bad about it.

And I miss having grown-ups to talk to.

I miss being good at something.

And I'm tired of worrying about money. Even if it is just in my own head. I do though. I worry A LOT.

I had an interview a few weeks ago and the offer came in last Friday. I agreed to it and about a month from now, I'll be heading back into an office.

What have I just gotten myself into?

I guess we'll see.

I've got a lot to do between now and then.