Expected at Work

Yesterday, for the first time in my parenting career, I left a sick kid to go to work.  It was kind of a big deal for me.

I’ve been a stay-at-home mom since a month before my oldest was born.  He is now fourteen.  My youngest is now twelve, and she was the sick one.

I’ve always taken my mothering gig seriously.  I say that because I know there are some people out there who don’t.  But I do.  I always have.  I’ve taken it so seriously that being a stay-at-home mom was a major priority for me.

But a few months ago I was offered a part-time position doing something I love.  And after a bit of debate, I decided that my kids were old enough for me to branch out.

The first few weeks of working were hard for me.  Even though I am only there a grand total of three hours each day, I felt so extremely guilty.  I felt like I was doing everything that I didn’t want to do when it came to raising kids.  In my mind, I was abandoning them.  Never mind that I am married and their father is perfectly capable of providing care while I am away… I felt guilty.

But after a few weeks, the guilt faded.  We all settled into the new normal and things have been going well.  Then my daughter woke up sick.

Major sick.

She basically puked all. day. long.

It was gross.

I didn’t want to leave her.  But I was expected at work and my husband came home and there was no excuse.  I have a job now.  So I went.  And for three hours I worried.  I worried about her throwing up again.  I worried about my husband getting frustrated.  I worried about my son and his anxiety going on overdrive with illness in the house.  I worried more than I’ve worried in quite some time.

And when work ended, I went home.

And when I got home, I found a calm household.  A husband that took care of things.  A son that found a comfy spot on the couch and just chilled for the evening.  And a daughter who had finally started feeling better.

I survived.

They survived.

And now I know what working mothers have been feeling for years.  I’ve seen it from the other side.  And I believe it has made me a better person.

Here I Am…

Blogging is nothing new to me.  I’ve done this a million times before.  The problem I always encounter is that I stop blogging for me and start blogging for others.  What I mean is… making money is nice and all, but I’m not in this for money.  I like to blog because I like to write.  I may not be the best writer on earth, but I like to do this.  I like to share my thoughts.  I like to vent about whatever is going on and I like to do it via blogging.

I don’t like worrying about what I say because someone might not want to advertise on my site.

I don’t like worrying about what I say because some family member might read it.  In fact, I don’t want my family reading my blogs anymore.  I love my family… but if I want to get something out, then I just want to do that freely.  I don’t want unsolicited advice or the worry that I may have hurt someone’s feelings.  I just want to blog.

I don’t even like sharing my blog on social media.  You won’t find me on Twitter or Facebook… I’m not interested in that.  I just want to write.  If someone reads it, great.  If not, well, that’s ok.  Sure, I like comments just as much as the next person, but this blog is more therapy for me than anything else… comments aren’t the driving force.

That being said, if you are here… hello.  Thanks for dropping by.  I may actually have something interesting to say again now that I’m not feeling watched, judged, and whatever else I feel like when people I know start reading my thoughts.  And it is so freeing to just write thoughts again without worrying about proper SEO… I don’t really give a hoot about keywords.

I just want to write.

Sometimes I feel lost.  I feel like life is swallowing me up.  Now I can get that out safely… at least as safely as possible on the internet.

I am telling one friend about my blog.  She knows who she is.