September 19, 2003. The last day I worked as a full-time employee. Since then I have had two children and a stream of part-time jobs. I was lucky in that I was always able to find part-time work in my field, but these positions inevitably ended for one reason or another. In two of these cases my employer wanted me to switch to a full-time schedule and I was unwilling to.
September 10, 2012. The day I will return to the world of 9-5. Yes, as the song says, to every thing, there is a season. I planned to return to full-time work in September of 2013 when my littlest will be in school for a full school day. However, plans don't always come out the way you, well, plan them. After I was laid off in January, there were no part-time opportunities on the horizon, but I became aware of three full-time jobs in my field. After giving this a great deal of thought, I realized that you have to strike while the iron is hot, catch that bird in the hand, and all of that. I couldn't turn down a great job just because it was one year ahead of schedule.
And so began the saga of my maternal guilt. My oldest would reap the benefits of me working part-time from her very first day of nursery school up until the second week of 4th grade, while my youngest would have me only until the second week of kindergarten. How would I be able to be there for her as much as I had been there for my oldest? What would I have to miss because of work? I have been my oldest daughter's "class parent" for every single one of her years in school. I quickly decided that I HAD to be daughter number 2's class parent as well. I have put the wheels into motion to make this happen. My apologies to the other parents who may have wanted the job. I am on a mission and you are collateral damage.
My mind went into overdrive thinking of schedules; mine, theirs, my mother-in-law's, my husband's, the babysitter's; all of the people who will be involved in the daily juggling of making sure that both girls are dropped off, picked up, looked after, etc.
Then my mind started making lists. Lots of lists. Lists of things that HAD to be done before I went back to work. Hmmm...that shower curtain is faded from the sun, must replace that immediately! Hmmm...we never went forward with the bathroom remodeling project we talked about, so out I go to the tile store! I cleaned out my closet, cleaned out my daughter's closet, got to the filing that had been piling up (literally) and finally changed the bedroom curtains and threw out the shades that have not worked in a year. I took nesting to a whole new level.
And the shopping... As I would not have the luxury anymore of going food shopping on a Monday afternoon with only the stay-at-home moms and senior citizens, I decided I needed to stock up on everything. My neighbors should all know that if there is ever a pending natural disaster, come on over to my house. I've got enough food stashed in my basement to get us through from now until Thanksgiving. I also have enough lunch time snacks to keep the girls happy until the New Year, if not later. You should have seen me going through the snack aisles at Target like Auntie Em preparing for the twister.
I should now say a few things about my new job. I will be working about 7 minutes from home. There are lots of stores on my way home. My boss is great and is big on work/life balance. I have a very generous vacation day allotment. Given all of that, there is no reason for me to be panicking like this. It's total over-compensation; a compulsive need to try to control as many things as possible before life gets pretty uncontrollable. Wow, it's like preparing for parenthood all over again. Only this time I'll get a paycheck for it. And free coffee. Workin' 9-5. Not a bad way to make a living.
WRITER'S UPDATE, 5/22/13: I was reminded today that I have just completed my first academic year of working full-time since having kids (I work at a college, so time is measured by semesters and academic years.) I can't believe how fast the months have flown by. I re-read this blog and thought you might want to know how it all worked out. Well, aside from a rough patch when my boss announced we would no longer have free coffee (thankfully short lived) it has gone pretty well.
I have been lucky in that I have not had to miss major events. However, my 9 year old was not pleased when an evening work commitment forced me to miss the elimination of her favorite American Idol contestant. It broke my heart when she called me crying to tell me the bad news. This, though, pales in comparison to the steady guilt that has been hurled my way with the finesse of a major league baseball pitcher because I will have to miss her upcoming violin concert. I will be out of state at a conference and have heard more than once "you chose work over your own daughter." (thank you for the empathetic wince that many of you just did, or the knowing nod of the head.) I told her I can have Dad facetime me during the show and I will step out of whatever meeting I am in (which I thought was a pretty fabulous idea) but it didn't cut it. Sigh...
Regarding keeping up on errands, I would like to publicly thank whoever came up with Amazon Prime. Two day free shipping on almost anything Amazon sells. Go sign up for it. Now. The neighborhood UPS trucks now come equipped with my address on their GPS system.
As for my little one, I am able to pick her up from school every Thursday. This has helped tremendously. It has made me feel more "in the loop" with her teacher, and her friends and their parents, as I was with child #1.
I do spend a lot of time arranging for child care. Grandma and the babysitter split the week, and if one needs to take off or switch days, I put my "VP of Logistics" hat on and orchestrate the pick ups as if I were plotting pieces on a chess board. I sometimes get it wrong. Oops, forgot to tell the babysitter that I didn't need her, forgot to tell the teachers someone else was picking her up. I'd rather not admit to how many times I have heard the loud "thud" as one of the balls that I was juggling dropped to the floor. But it's all part of the job, and somehow, some way, it all ends up working out.
Oh, and I did become my little one's Class Parent. But I'm sure you guessed that already.
