I have been a working mom in the past, but I had always had an exit strategy for those jobs ... like, "I'll only work here until my credit gets better" or "I'll stop when I can have my Pampered Chef business take off" or, my personal favorite, "I'll quit when I have another baby...and good God, if that takes nine months, I better get pregnant NOW." (Note: also how we have Mini Me...and why her birthday is in May. I originally wanted a December baby, but knew I couldn't take another seven months at that place.)
This time, I have no exit strategy. MM is four, and heading to school part-time this fall. It was either get a job, or look into the pearls-and-vacuum route, and honestly, my bunion just couldn't take the heels.
The plan is to work here until I'm either retiring with my gold-plated pen and pencil set, or until I get fired. And after my first day being with the HR manager, it looks like there won't be much I can't get fired for. (What? It's not good to laugh out loud during the sexual harassment video? Crap.)
So far, it's going well. I'm happy with how I'm doing and I stand to make a lot of money. My kids, however, have a different perception of how it's going.
Larry Potter and Hoover are upset that I had to cancel our first family vacation ever (with just our family, that is, and for more than one night) because I got a job. Nevermind that I rescheduled it to September when they can go on vacation AND get out of school for three days (not my first choice in how to do things, but it's how it all shook out), but "Mommmmmm, we're supposed to be at the beach for my birrrrrrrthdayyyyy."
|Sorry kids, I just can't WILL myself to grow any more arms!|
Mini Me, who could care less about vacations, has chosen a different route. It involves clinging to my legs, hiding my shoes, and screaming. "Honey, you're not going to Cruella D'Ville's house, just Miss A.'s, and you like it over there."
And now, because the age of four is *awesome*, the clinging and screaming has come over into everyday things. I have to have Disgruntled Husband run interference while I run out the door to get some milk at the store.
Mom guilt. They all do it so well.
This new job will give us all insurance, dental work, new appliances, a new garage door (I hope) and someday, their college educations.
But God help me if I miss another day at the local pool.
Perhaps this is just my hazing period. I'm sure it gets better. Right?