It is really hard to be a working mom. People always talk about balance. I am still searching for that magic pinnacle—the point where I will be balance between home and work. I’ve heard other working moms talk about the guilt of leaving their kids when they go to work. I haven’t felt guilt per se. Just sadness and stress. I feel like I am being stretched very, very thin.
Mondays are really hard. I am gone from 7-4:30, then I have to go back to class at 5:45. When I am hope for that brief hour the boys are SO happy to see me. Benji, especially, wants me to hold him, hug him, and sit on the couch and watch Veggie Tales with him. And I need to get dinner on the table. The other Monday I was dashing back and forth from the kitchen to the couch, stirring spaghetti and sauce and then snuggling with my little son. It helped. A bit. Benji cried a lot that night. And both boys fell apart when I dashed out the door to go to class. My heart hurt. Maybe that is what the other moms mean by guilt—a heavy, hurting heart that is trying to stretch from home to work and never seems to reach.
I know (hope?) I am doing the right thing by teaching this semester. Having teaching experience will help me get a job when I graduate so that Aaron can go back to school. But, I’ve gotta say, the working mom’s load is a heavy, heavy burden. This is going to be a hard semester.