I'm a stay at home mom. I never had a job that was more than a job, no career or calling or something I was meant to do. I was not raised to believe I could be anything I wanted. Never told I could be an astronaut or the president or pushed to be a doctor or lawyer. I don't know if I was ever told that women were meant to be wives and mothers, but when I informed my mom about which college I really wanted to attend (an arts college) she said, "You'll never find a husband there" I didn't care, I wasn't going to major in husband hunting- although for all the use art history has been to me maybe I should have). When I got pregnant I knew that I had no qualms about quitting my job to take care of the baby once he would be born. The idea of figuring out child care and it's mind bogglingly expensive costs in NYC was too much for me to handle, especially considering I'd have been leaving my baby to deal with over privileged mommies, nannies, and other people's screaming babies. Also the idea of having someone else care for my child didn't sit too well with me. All of the costs, emotionally, monetarily, logistically seemed to be too much. Giving up the highly rewarding job of receptionist at a posh pediatric office wasn't exactly the hardest thing I've ever done, even if my bosses and coworkers were the best I'd ever had.
However now one year later I find myself enviously watching my husband get ready for work in the morning while I struggle with a squirmy toddler and wondering how hard could it really be to find a nanny, or day care, or sitter, how much could it really cost? I don't live close enough to family, nor have any friends I could dump my darling son on. No one to take advantage of that way. I've never used a sitter. Not once. He's a year old and my husband and I have not once gone out without him together. We've gone out alone- or out with own friends to do our own social things... but never once have we left the babe at home with someone so we could have time together (lack of date night type things is a different post altogether though).
I do not begrudge my husband his job. He does not love it, and I know he'd rather be home all day, even if he doesn't full understand what being a stay at home parent really entails. There is more than playing with the boy and/or being present while he plays quietly with his toys. Even after a year I'm still struggling with my own identity. I am a mother and a caregiver. I am a wife and home maker. Am I more? I must be and yet I have no great passion and no great drive. I get my fulfillment from watching my son learn and grow, his smiles and giggles bring a song to my heart. But what else? Do I really want to go back to work? I would be bored there as well. But at least then I'd be making my own money and not be as completely reliant on my husband as I am now. And I'd have time to myself, even if it would be spent thinking about how much I hate the commuting and the phone ringing and the people interrupting my lunch with stupid questions and demands. Would going back to work be more fulfilling than staying home? Will I be able to concentrate on anything of my own for more than five minutes at a time?
Some days I want nothing more than to go back to zombie workland. Some days I want to be the one get a few snuggles and head out for the day and come home later to get a few more snuggles and put the boy to bed and think how awesome it is to be a parent. I know it's not that easy. I'd feel guilty and miss him. It is an honor to raise my son and listen to him chatter and sing, watch him learn to walk and chase the cats. But some days are harder than others.
