Thursday, June 7, 2012

The poster child I never wanted to be

Hillary was right. It takes a village. I don’t have one. And today I accepted without one I can’t do it all. I feel guilty and like a failure, but the reality is there are only 24 hours in a day, my family is my life, and until God gives me the 8th day He doesn’t give to anyone else, there is a limit to what I can do.

In February I accepted a freelance job I knew would be time consuming, but the pay was amazing and my kids are at an age where I believed I could do 6-8 hours of work a night when my husband got home.

Then reality hit.

Moving.

Movers no show.

Daughter to ER.

Computer issues.

Food poisoning.

Kitchen pipes exploding.

Elderly family member who is sick.

Mom’s milestone birthday.

Horrible weather turning a 30 min drive into a 9 hour round trip.

Son to doctor.

Car theft (including wallet, checkbook, stroller, etc.)

The only thing on that list (and these are the things I remember) I could have planned on happening in February was Mom’s birthday. And if one of them in and of themselves had happened I would have been ok. BUT ALL OF THEM!

My job got to a point where I was staying awake until 4 am, and getting up at 8. I don’t remember the last time my husband and I were together in the same room that was not our bedroom with us fast asleep. Have no idea what happened on Modern Family. My Words with Friends cue is overflowing. We moved February 20 and I still have boxes to unload. The number of newspapers that have been chucked to recycling bin without being read is horrifying.

All this said when I got the email this morning saying that I was relieved of my duties for the project, while not surprised, I burst into tears and felt (and still do) like a failure. This job was not hard; it involved research and writing, two of my favorite things. I was able to use skills I haven’t used in years. But it was time consuming, and my schedule of what essentially became a full time job on top of my SAHM full time gig became unsustainable. I fell behind. Project delayed. At the end of the day it was a business decision and I had agreed to be timely. I wasn’t. Case closed.

I know I gave it my best. I worked 150 percent. Every spare second I have had these last four months has gone to the project. In the last month alone three different people diplomatically told me I looked like ass. I take little comfort in knowing while I gave it my best, I failed.

I failed my family. We need the money that job provided. In an attempt to make me feel better my husband joked that the job allowed us to “afford” being robbed of car. Think of how screwed we’d be had I not been bringing in that money??? Before the theft, which is what really kicked me down, the plan was put half the money to savings half to debt. We were on track to eliminate all our credit card debt, which has grown more than I ever dreamed. Our cushion was going to actually be comfortable. Now the debt is bigger than before thanks to the thugs, and our cushion is getting smaller and smaller.

I failed those who were professional references for me. They put their necks on the line for me saying I could make a valuable contribution. Sure my work was good, but deadlines that were blown by sometimes days, sometimes weeks, wouldn’t make up for Pulitzer work. My editor was understanding at first, incredibly understanding. But her patience began to wane and who can blame her. I tried to keep up. On the way back from a family gathering in New York we spent the night in Delaware so I could work all night in the hotel. My husband took the train in the am to get to his work while I slept.

Looking back I think I was foolish. There was no way with a 3 year old and a nursing infant I could work for 8 hours after spending all day with my kids, and then function the next day. This routine lasted for a few weeks, but ultimately I was crashing and crashing hard. My body ached, my stomach hurt and my eyes felt as if they had real honest to goodness cobwebs growing on them. My weekends began to look more like college finals week, except I am 15 years older and these weekends were never ending.

I have friends who are SAHM who have part time jobs. But they have family nearby. My mom is an hour away and my in-laws are 2 hours away – by plane. I don’t have any sisters. My best friends live in Baltimore, New York and Connecticut. While we have great friends here, some of whom have volunteered to help me with time, I can’t keep going to this well. If we pay for a nanny, than the money I am making is significantly reduced. Not to mention, I am not about to let some stranger watch my babies. A friend suggested today I should use this as an example of why I need to move our family back to Baltimore. Who knows?

This is not a vent on the lack of childcare options. This is not a pity party. But in the age when it seems so many women feel guilty about going to work away from their children; I thought it was important to put something out there that talks about the guilt SAHM feel.

I used to believe anything was possible, if you put your mind to it. Now I know I have limits. I am not SuperMom. I can’t do everything I want to.

But mostly I hate that in the minds of my former editor I am the poster child of why not to hire a SAHM. I not only let my family down, but I let the collective whole of SAHMs down. I was “that” Mom who always had an excuse, only it wasn’t an excuse, it was real. I couldn’t make this stuff up if I tried. That said, all I am left to say is I am sorry.

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