Week 2: Update

First day of week 2, and so far I am still mostly sane and the children are safe. Ka-chow! I can't help but feel that the kids are kind of bored, but oh well. I managed to vacuum once, clean two bathrooms, do a million loads of laundry, cook dinner several nights and go to yoga class twice.

Also: forgot to pick-up our meat CSA share this weekend, still have no one to watch our kids the other day per week I'm working, have spent more money on stuff than I usually do in a a month, and have not yet put away said million loads of laundry....

Sigh.

But, we spent a great day yesterday at the park. Hiked to the falls, lunch by the boat launch, and finally Will RAN into the swimming area at the lake. And Ian cracked a grin when we dipped him in a few times. Both kids crashed for a 2+ hour nap at 4:00 PM when we got home -- and we knew we were in trouble. Ah well, can't have it both ways I guess.

Gotta run -- banana muffins ready to come out of the oven. Holy domesticity!! I have arrived....

Lost In Transition

Some things are just really hard for me. Transitions are one of the those things. You know, like from high school to college, or college to real-world, single to married. DINK (double-income, no kids) to two kids, a mortgage, and two jobs that no one really wants.

After Ian was born I started thinking again (seriously) about quitting my full-time job to stay at home with the kids. It was working okay -- the commuting, daycare, pick-up, drop-off, 20 min meals. But I was tired. Sooo tired. And so was Christian. And the kids seemed to be sick ALL THE TIME. And then we both missed work. And I missed milestones, seeing them grow. And did I mention I was tired?

So finally, about 16 months later, I've just moved to a part-time position working from home. I have two days of work per week, and three for my boys and the house. Or whatever... The kicker here is that I have an amazingly flexible department and director who is willing to work with me. And at my current status, I still can get all of my benefits. Say what? You heard me... It's killer.

I kind of took the easy way out though, I guess. Cause I'll be brutally honest. I was scared as hell at the thought of staying home full time with my kids. Scared. Of a preschooler and a toddler. Out of my mind. What exactly I was scared of, I don't know. Scared of the kids getting bored, or becoming "un-socialized." Scared that I wouldn't be able to handle it, and I'd go off the deep-end again into some crazy post-POST partum depression. Scared that I would be bored into a catatonic state. My brain start to slowly liquefy into a Jello-like mass.

Scared I would LOSE FOREVER the career capital I'd built up over the past 12 years in the workforce. That my college degree and work experience was going down the tubes forever.

Scared of so many things, I lose count.

Oh yeah, did I mention being scared of not being able to LOVE staying at home, like I imagined all my SAH friends/acquaintances do? Because really, all you ever hear is how much those moms love it, and how much the working moms are missing out on. Or vice versa. Where did I fit? I had no idea, and that scared me.

Because the truth is, on that first day back to working full-time after my first son was born, I dropped him off at daycare -- wishing I could cry -- and drove away toward my office with a fluttery heart, feeling like the weight of ten elephants had been temporarily lifted off my shoulders.

I was damn near giddy, my friends.

Does this make me a bad mother? Unfit? Surely to stay at home full-time, right? I dunno, but I do know that that is how the transition to motherhood felt to me for those first six months. Like the weight of ten elephants. And frankly, I was slightly suffocating underneath all that weight. Going back to work was MY time. I could eat and pee and drink coffee whenever I wanted! I could take a shower! People listened to me and talked back! I could take a walk by myself! It was a daily retreat for which I got paid. Amen. Don't get me wrong, I love my children beyond reason -- but amen.

And wouldn't you know, almost two and a half years later, I would feel that suffocating weight again when I transitioned from mother of one, to mother of two....

But this time, work didn't seem like a cure-all. It started to seem sort of like part of the problem. Was it all that odd that I was having trouble focusing on anything? For goodness sake, how can it be possible to nurse, pump, change diapers, get dressed, commute, work, pump, commute, cook dinner, clean up, give baths, nurse, laundry, sleep, wake and do it all over again the next day? Again and again? For me, I needed a light at the end of that tunnel. And I wanted to regain some focus -- on my children.

So here I sit, on the cusp of yet another transition. Could go either way, folks. But at least this time I know the transition is the hardest part. From there, it can only get better.

** Photo credits: Migrant mother Florence Thompson & children photographed by Dorothea Lange. Location: Nipomo, CA, US, Date taken: 1936. LIFE magazine Google photo archives.