Every day, I suffer. Every. Single. Day. I get up at 5:20, take a shower, and go in to the living room to do my makeup. Why do makeup in the living room? Because I get a whole 45 minutes in the morning with my children, the majority of which consists of "L, get your pajamas off! K, put your diaper in the trash! L, get your clothes on! K, hurry and go potty. L, get your clothes on. L. L!!! Can you hear me!? K, let's go. We gotta get dressed! L! GET. YOUR. CLOTHES. ON. NOW!!!!! . . ." etc.
At 7, we feed the dogs and the girls argue over who gets to turn off the lights, who gets to feed which dog, and yell, "I want candy" (the awesome name I came up with for their vitamins).
At 7:05, I trip over two little girls as the 3 of us try to get out of the door at the same time, me with my purse, K's extra clothes for daycare, my coffee, and anything extra for the day; the girls with their backpack, a toy of choice, their milk, their attitudes.
I spend the next 10 minutes trying to get 2 little girls in to their car seats, both of whom cry, "lemme do it", but neither whom are capable. Attempting to help them only exasperates the problem, but it just has to be done. I'm relatively certain my neighbors sit at their windows every morning sipping from their cups of coffee, taking bets with their spouse over how long it will take me to snap (the girls in their seats, of course), watching this unfold.
I then drop L off at school, drive 20 minutes, take K to day care, and get to work by 7:45. I leave work at 10, pick L up at school at 10:20, take L to daycare, give hugs and kisses to 20 kids (I'm apparently the mom to many more people than I remember giving birth to. Those were some good drugs!). Go back to work by 10:45. Work until 5:30 (if I'm lucky), and either get to fight the wonderfully designed roads of San Antonio with 4,000 other people heading home or pick up the girls and only fight 2,000 people. (Who thought that taking 5 lanes down to 3 with 3 entrance ramps all within a mile was a good idea, anyway!) I usually get home around 6:15 - 6:30.
The family sits down to dinner, then it's time to get the girls ready for bed. The goal is to have the girls in bed by 8, otherwise, they are bigger terrors the next day than normal. Then, it's time to do the dishes, make my coffee for the next day, and get ready for bed just to do it all over again.
There are two MAJOR problems with this scenario - the first being that I am starting to hate my job, the second being, this makes me the worst mom ever. In all of the hustle and bustle of every day life, I feel as though I am neglecting my children. It's not that they are not well-adjusted individuals, it's just that I feel like I go to work to be able to afford to pay someone else to spend time with my children. Really, how much sense does that make? It's not even like I'm doing something that improves anybody's life. I'm doing a job that anybody can do in my place. No one can replace my children's mother. So, what am I doing?
I sat down with my husband today (well, we sat at our respective computers from different hemispheres of the world) and discussed this. Can we afford for me to not work? Can we figure these details out? When is the right time to make this decision? How do you know the decision you're making is the right one?
I realize this post is more of a vent than it is interesting. I just sometimes need to see it written down to see how easy of a decision this really is . . .