It’s recently come to light that it will soon be time for me to become part of the workforce again. You would think this would be great news, since I never really yearned to leave the workforce in the first place.
I remember quitting my job and preparing to move. When we arrived here, the first month felt like a luxurious vacation, despite the babies’ troubles adjusting to our new home. By the second month, I was restless. The third month, I was looking for a job. I found one. A job that back home would have easily made me $50,000 based on the duties described. They offered me $9 an hour. That would even cover half of our daycare costs. I turned them down, and I stopped looking. Obviously, there were no jobs for a television journalist in a town that has no TV news.
Month four? I started this blog, I applied for online journalistic work from home and got it. I started editing novels for a publisher from home, and I took on freelance work for a local magazine. I stacked my plate, and I fell apart. For the next few months I struggled to make all of my projects work, to get things in by deadline, to keep my house clean and my kids entertained. I often felt like a complete failure. Not only was I not making any real money, I was letting the housework slide. I was disorganized and disheveled. I was trying, but it seemed not enough.
It was only after Christmas that things began to click into place for me. I started succeeding in the time management that had alluded me for so long. I am now able to write everything I set out to write, keep the house in a satisfactory manner, and I feel as if I am nurturing my kids to the best of my ability. Finally, everything lined up for me.
Or maybe I only feel that way because it is a phase of my life soon to end. It’s hard to tell. I don’t know.
What I do know is that as many times as I have complained about this life, as many times as I have struck out into the darkness, wondering who I am and what my purpose was after my career ended, I have enjoyed this phase of life more than any other so far.
I have seen my children grow and flourish. I have captured fully each development. I have been able to take responsibility not only for every tantrum, setback and failure, but also for every success, every development, every adventure.
I don’t want to leave my kids much as I didn’t want to leave the workplace. What I must remember is that I cannot shove my feelings off on them. It would be too easy to say that I need to stay home because the kids need me. They are two and a half now. There are millions of kids in daycare at their age. I feel like I need to stay home not because the babies need me, but because I need them.
Yes, I guess it is time to move on.
I am only too thankful that it takes time to look, to find, to apply for, and to get a job. I will cherish these next months at home. They may well be my last.