I’m sitting at my desk, flipping through music on iTunes, so happy to have finally hooked my speakers back up after we redid our office… in December. I missed the music. I am trying to figure out what to write when I want to write, desperately, about my job. I try to draw a line, no work talk. However, dealing with work is such a big part of my life right now that “I’m stressed and work is busy” just doesn’t seem to cut it.
M has started noticing that I work. I don’t know how to explain what has changed, but I think it is something akin to when you realize your parents were these people before they were ever your parents and that they have sex. We talk about it being how I make money, she asks if it is a work day, or a stay at home day. I’ve had to say “not right now, mommy has to work” more recently than I had since she became verbal. This is part a project that requires me to work from home one night a week, as well as just a shift in what is going on. I am torn, like so many working moms, between feeling like I might be inadequate as a mother because I work and feeling like I should be proud of my professional accomplishments. After all, I was successful in my career long before I ever made the choice to become a mom, and I want her to grow up knowing that she can accomplish anything she wants.
There are parts of my job that drive me absolutely bonkers. Things that make me angry, frustrated and just pissed off. However, there are parts of it that I find so incredibly rewarding. I am good at what I do. I am smart. I fix things, I make them work. I think about if I want to consider being a stay at home mom, and I worry that I won’t have the same feeling of accomplishment from that, that I get when I reverse engineer a vendor application for deployment to our workstations. (I warned you I was a giant geek right?) Can I be as good of a mom as I want to be if I don’t have a life outside/
I still don’t know what I am going to do. I thought I did, but I realized recently I have no idea. It is clearly a work in progress.