To-Stay-or-Not-To-Stay-At-Home-The-Struggle-is-Real

I was hit with a pretty harsh realization a few weeks ago: that the majority of my day is spent with children at my job and literally 2 1/2 hours at home with my own kid.

That’s the reality of this rookie NASAH (not-a-stay-at-home) mom right now and I’m having a hard time wrapping my heart around it.

Cue the yeas and nays. “Boo hoo, you have a job. Put on your big girl panties, lady and join the club.” I love what I do, but at the end of the day, I have the dregs of myself to share with my son.

I was fortunate to have been a stay at home mother until he started kindergarten and I went through occasional pangs of wishing my career to life. So coming to terms with working full time without having that transition of easing myself into it has been a bit of a jolt for me.

The irony.

I love the economic flexibility it affords my family and those little extras that I would cringe and gag about paying for otherwise. My career does NOT define me, but I’m grateful for the added sense of accomplishment.

I struggle with not being able to be there for many things that are important to him, like chapel days, events at school, evenings at Disney. I try to spend my days off doing fun things with him, but sometimes colossal piles of laundry (how do three people have so many dirty clothes is beyond my pay grade) get in the way. Monday morning, I’d wish I had done things differently; I’d wish I had left that laundry folding to my husband and played an extra game of Super Mario with a little boy, who wanted to hang out with his mama.

The self flagellation and guilt-on-steroids never ends for moms, does it?

I second guess myself all the time, wonder if I’ve made the right choices (like giving him boxed mac n’cheese two days in a row), agonize whether I’ve scarred my child for life when I mess up. I spread myself too thin sometimes with Martha Stewart-esque baking ambitions and my time management leaves much to be desired.

It’s definitely a learning curve, but I’m getting there. I’m understanding that I may not have it perfect or get it right all the time.

And that’s OK.

A good mother – stay at home or not.

That’s all we aspire to be and all that should really matter.

I’m not going to be there for every momentous event in my son’s life (like when his first baby tooth fell off), but I was there for many of his firsts: when he rolled over, took his first step, said his first word, had his first spoon of cereal (it was on Christmas Day by the way), his first day of preschool.

Putting him to bed at night is my favorite part of the day; I lie there next to him, sing him a song that I’ve sung to him since he was a baby…and just hold him. Those precious moments, when my face is the last thing he sees before he closes those beautiful eyes, make the hours that I’m away from him, all the chaos and exhaustion, worth it.

A picture of my happy boy is on my work desk- to remind me that my first job is being a mother to a very special little boy.

Nothing trumps that.

 

 

“There’s no way to be a perfect mother… but a million ways to be a good one.”


 

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