work/mom

I never wanted to be a working mom.
The plan was to stay home with  my kids after they were born--after all, I am their momma and I should be the one raising them, right?

For the first year and a half of Jameson's life, I was fortunate enough to be able to do this. England has an awesome maternity allowance scheme that meant I got paid for nine months while hanging out with my babe. Amazing.
When October/November of last year rolled around, I got a part-time holiday job at Lush and loved it--I worked 15-20ish hours a week, walked there, and didn't ever have to work very late. It gave Jameson some time with Papa or Ah-ma and Yeh-yeh and it was fine. I made some friends and got some much-needed independence.

However, once we moved back to America, Hubs and I both knew that the situation was going to have to change. Moving transatlantically is expensive, and we did it twice. It meant that we both had to work, no matter how much I didn't want to.
Now, the incredible upsides to our situation are many: my parents or sisters are able to watch Jameson while Hubs and I are both working, and if I have to leave him, who better than with his own family?
Also, my office is extremely relaxed and very willing to work with me on scheduling. Everyone here loves my little family and they know how important they are to me.
Hubs and I work opposite schedules, and although this can be tough in the marriage department, it's easier in the childcare one. He gets to stay home with Jameson while I'm at work, then my family has him for an hour or so until I get home and take over. So really, J's got at least one parent with him for most of the day.
Finally, my working has taught Jameson some much-needed independence and strengthened the bond between Hubs and himself. He is now perfectly okay with waving goodbye, saying "Love you, momma" and heading out the back door to play. He knows I'm coming back, and he knows he's with people that care.

So. There is a lot of good in this situation.

But. But, but, but.

Every day, my heart hurts to be away from my kiddo and it makes me want to cry a little when I get home and watch him do something I've never seen before, but everyone else has. Or when he talks in his own little gibberish-y language and Hubs automatically knows what he's saying while I'm sitting in the dark.
I never wanted to do this work-away-from-home thing. That's why I wanted to be a writer--so I could be at home with my kids and still contribute. And even though I know this situation is (probably) somewhat temporary, it's still hard. I feel like I'm running a race, and I'm running out of endurance. I'm experiencing that split feeling that so many working moms talk about--like you aren't doing a great job at work or at home because there is just too much going on in both places. Not to mention that trying to take care of myself has fallen to the bottom of the pile, because any time I am at home, I am thinking about how I need to be with my family.

I have no resolutions or answers for any of this, other than to just keep going. I'm still "technically" part-time, even though I work nearly 31 hours a week. (Tack on my commute, and it's probably almost 40.)
I am so fortunate to even be able to work, and to have a job, so please don't think I am unaware of this. I just feel torn in half sometimes, and it's an uncomfortable state that I'm learning to live in.

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may 4

"It is easy to die for Christ.

It is harder to live for him.

 

Dying takes only an hour or two,

but to live for Christ means to die daily.

Only during the few years of this life are we given the privilege of serving each other and Christ...

 

We shall have heaven forever, but only a short time for service here, and therefore we must not waste the opportunity."

-Sadhu Sundar Singh

 

 

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may 3

things that are gross:

-bare, dirty feet.
-eggs. and chicken. (while pregnant).
-old ladies that dress like skanks.
-skin that has been tanned so much it looks like leather.
-my toenails.
-the smell when you open the garbage can.
-fast food. (the chemicals. sick.)
-staying inside when it's sunny and warm out.
-any sort of bait-and-switch.
-drivers on the freeway during rush hour.
-warm, soggy cereal.
-gluten-free food that tastes like sawdust.
-my acne surfacing because of pregnancy and poor food choices.
-throwing up after looking at:
-lunchmeat
-the first thirteen weeks of pregnancy.

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may 2

I almost forgot today. Wouldn't that be typical. Failing on day 2. Ah well. I'm here.

I'm supposed to talk to you about something I'm good at or have a lot of knowledge about.
I don't even know what to pick. There are things that I'm good at that I feel like no one really needs an instruction manual on, or anything like that so writing out thoughts about it would be kind of redundant.

Let's talk about reading, because I'm staring at a book that I'm halfway through and currently contemplating just how on earth I'm going to get through the rest of it.
For as long as I can remember, books have been one of my great loves.
I know that everyone says this, but it's actually true for me. My parents went through a phase where they were worried about how social I was going to be, since I preferred to hang out inside and read a book rather than talk to people. Taking a book away became a very effective punishment.
Oh, and once, I had an $80 library fine. That's how much I love books.

As I've become an adult (and more specifically, a mother), I don't have as much time to just read as I used to. This has led to me paring down my selections pretty harshly, and I do something that I never used to do--stop reading a book halfway through and give it back if it's just not doing it for me. I used to have this strict, "Finish everything you start" rule, but I don't have that luxury anymore and if I'm not in it by the third chapter, I'm giving it up. It kind of makes me sad to have to be so harsh sometimes, but there you go.

I'll read anything if it peaks my interests, and I think it's one of the best ways to become well-informed about the world and the things in it. When I was a kid, I used to just browse the shelves at the library by sections, until I found a topic that sounded interesting, and then I'd check out a bunch of books about it. I'll still do that sometimes now, just to see what I find.

Anyway. That's enough.
This has been like pulling teeth to write, but I did it, so score one for discipline.

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May 1

Born a chubby little girl around Christmas time in 1988. Spent the first 18 years of my life  living in Salt Lake City, Utah, surrounded by mountains I didn't appreciate until I left and so many family members that we always had food bursting out of houses during our holidays.

In third grade, Mom decided to try something called "homeschooling". I just knew that it meant I got to stay home and learn about what I wanted, instead of sitting in a classroom and being bored for half of the day. My education consisted of strange things like running around the house to figure out how quickly the Earth, Mars, and Pluto revolved around the sun, preparing and hosting a medieval feast, complete with faux pig's head, and dissecting a worm on the kitchen counter.

I left for college at Moody Bible Institute in Chicago when I was barely 18. It was January, and we took a 40-hour train ride to get there. I met my husband within two weeks of arriving, and got engaged five months after that. We got married ten months later and moved into the tiniest apartment you ever did see, in the ghetto-est of neighborhoods. Some of my best memories involve that little studio.

Two years later, we moved to England, I gave birth to our first child, and 2 1/2 years after that, we moved back to Utah and found out that we're going to have a second child sooner than expected.
And that is that.

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