I’m exhausted. I’m just exhausted. Every minute or two I remember something else that needs to be accomplished. Right now? The tooth fairy. “Don’t go to bed before the tooth fairy lands!” looms in the back of my head. I will almost forget. I will turn off the tv. I will put my head down. I will close my eyes. I will sigh big and deep and well-deserved, and then I’ll say FUCK! It’s what I do. And thank goodness for that. Cause if I didn’t remember I KNOW I’d be doing something wrong.
And that’s the question. How do I know I’m doing it right? I don’t. I never do. I have to trust myself. I have to learn to be comfortable with the way things NEED to be when they aren’t the way that I WANT them to be. And that? That’s really hard.
I work outside the home five days a week now so that my family can have health insurance. I know it’s honest and noble and needed. But is it the right thing to do? Should I really sacrifice this time with my kids for the insurance? Couldn’t there be another solution? If this were a career choice and I loved what I did, I don’t think I’d feel the same heartache. But there is no fulfillment. And I could weep many of the days that I sit down at my desk.
I watched Maxie running tonight down a long asphalt drive in his crocs. He runs on his tip toes. Bouncing-like. At first I told myself that this was the way that toddlers do it…on their tip toes. And then I realized I’m not talking about all toddlers, I’m talking about Max. And a piece of myself broke away with every step taken between us. He will grow up.
I have never been weepy of this fact. It’s what kids do. They grow. We help them grow. Life changes.
But now I’m weepy. And I want time to stand still. And I want someone to tell me that I am making good decisions for myself, the kids and our family. But there is no one there to say that. My mind changes from moment to moment. My confidence flowing back and forth like a tide. It’s like I miss the boys already, even though they are here under my roof, breathing their deep, sleepy breaths, nestled in my world for quite a long time more.
As long as I continue to remember the tooth fairy, I feel pretty certain I can give my kids a fair shake at this motherhood thing. But many nights it’s by the skin of my teeth that I remember the important stuff at all. And the tooth fairy? Hell, yeah she’s important. A childhood staple. I’m certain she’ll outlast the other memories of forgotten lunches and dirty underwear. In that case, I guess I’m doing okay.
**A note on the title: I think I have much to say about the type of mother you are vs. the type of mother you wish you were and what stands in the way of the two. And what’s realistic and what’s not..and so on, on, on, on, on, on…
…but please revert to the first line and accept my dearest apologies for not elaborating more clearly at this time.
Read More in motherhood, paid work, Sarah Writes, three kids, work
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I just want to let you know that you are an amazing mother and you have amazing kids. I know it must be tough to go to work and not be with them during the day, but I was simply your babysitter and I fell in love with your children, because of who they are, which is a reflection of how you and Dan raise them. Don’t doubt yourself ever.
And this comment, everyone, is why I absolutely adore my babysitter.
Kelsey, you are more than just a babysitter to me. You are my friend. And a wonderful, loving, supportive figure in my kids’ lives. What’s more important than that? I’m having a terrifically hard day (week, month…) and this comment has me literally weeping in my office. Thank you from the very bottom of my heart. For your words. And for you. We love you. It will be a long year without you.
kelsey: can i borrow you?
sarah: *big sigh* i honestly don’t know what i would do if i worked out of the house and didn’t eat sleep and breathe the magoo. granted, he drives me up a wall (and runs on his tip toes in his crocs too) but i don’t know what i would do in your position. i imagine that it aches… that you ache. and i imagine that your kids are so happy when you come home. that must be a great feeling, and one that i won’t experience being a SAHM.
regardless, i feel for ya… and you know i’ve got nothin but love for you ladies.
I second what Nic said. Sometimes I think about working outside of the house, but I know there’s just no way it would work for us.
Kids grow up way too fast and are way too smart these days. And as moms we don’t want to miss a minute and so try to be everything to everyone. Sometimes it’s important to take a step back and take care of you (and not feel guilty as you’re doing it!).
But the fact that you care, says you’re an awesome loving mom and really that’s what our kids need most.
(hugs)
you know i already said this to you on twitter but i’m gone at work 5 days a week too. and i too feel like the precious moments are flying by and i’m missing everything. the only thing that keeps me grounded and sane is that i hope that when my girls are grown they realize that i did this for them. it’s all for them. our kids WILL know this one day. they will. right?
i love you, love you, love you. you are putting my words down on paper.
i found you through chapman’s crazyhouse and i am so glad i came here.
i want to read everything you wrote notnowbutrightnow, however i only jumped on for a minute (HA!!) and now must attend to my heathens.