WMG (Working Mom Guilt).

I have always been proud of my job.  How patient I was leading up to finally getting it; how determined I was to get it; how absolutely fortunate I was to have an opportunity to be so, so young and have such a well-paying, stable job.  It’s not every day that a teen mom doesn’t become a statistic; working for just more than minimum wage, maybe trying to get through school, and all too often without a significant other.  I was proud to not be a statistic.

Not a day goes by though that my subconscious does not give me some kind of guilt trip, some kind of hammering on my heart that reminds me how much I miss out on.  Not only me, but Devon too.  It was a little easier with just one, when we only had Alyvia.  Aside from working, every second of our spare time was devoted to her, and only her.  When Mason came along, I was only working part time for a few months, and deep down I loved it because I was able to spend SO much time with BOTH of them.  We knew though that in order to have the things we need to have, I needed to get a permanent, full time job.  And thank goodness I did.

We have always been so fortunate to have the best sitters.  Not everyone has that opportunity or luxury.  For that, I will always be grateful.

Still though, every day, I leave a huge part of my heart behind for ten hours.  I wonder what new things they’ll learn, say, do.  What they’ll have for lunch, if they napped well, if maybe we could have gone to the park together that day.  If I should be the sole person to teach them their letters, numbers, and prepare them for school.  If I should be the one to drop them off at preschool, put them on the bus, give them a piece of chocolate for finishing their meals all day.  I will miss PTA meetings, class parties, parent-teacher conferences.  And with a new baby on the way, possibly even first words, first steps, and that special snuggle time they long to have when they are just a few months old.

It wasn’t until my extremely hard working, I’ll-do-whatever-I-have-to-do-to-support-us husband got a new job, and a quick promotion that the thought of maybe, possibly staying home, maybe only working part-time, crossed my mind.  It wasn’t until we got caught up, finally caught up on our debts that I wrote down to prove that hey, we may be able to do it.  It wasn’t until last night that I was in tears, torn between which way my path would take me, which decision would I be able to make in the future.  If a year from now, that’s the route we decided to take, would I feel totally guilty about not having more extra money around?  Would I feel totally, dreadfully guilty that my husband worked 12 hours a day most days and I got to soak up the sweetness (or unsweetness) of our three beautiful, wild, keep-me-on-my-toes children?  Could I balance the saving we needed to do in the summer to get through winter?  Could I find it in my heart to part ways with my warmhearted, kind, selfless sitter who lives just around the corner?  The grocery budget, would I be able to get that right?  Would I regret it, and wish I could have kept my job?

i don't friggin know.

So for now, I’ll pray, work, soak up what I can, and continue to discuss the options with D.  I’ll talk to my kids; maybe they’ll give me the answer I need.  We have lots of time to figure it out.

I think.