a working mother's dilemma

I am a working mother - yeah, yeah I know, we all are. But I work outside the home.

There are a lot of reasons I work. One is money. One is that I grew up knowing that men leave and you could be left to take care of your family on your own. I can. One is that I need to feed the scientific part of my brain. As artsy as I've always been, I have also had a really strong love of science as well. I need it. I need the order of it. And a good scientist is very creative so I think it works well.

The reasons are legitimate. They are good reasons and they are not likely to change anytime soon. This is not a debate about whether women should stay home or not.

But here is my dilemma.

I hate working. Since my health troubles began two years ago, I have had to cut back so much of what I do. I just don't have the energy to run on the schedule I used to keep and that might have come anyway - it was a crazy schedule. Now, I find that I do not have the energy on the days that I work, to do much more than put in the eight hours at my job. I come home and I am exhausted. On those days, I'm unlikely to make supper, do any household chores or any outdoor chores. I feel like I've got nothing left for anyone. And these days are good compared to when I had the really bad relapse about a year and a half ago. During that relapse I literally couldn't lift my head, I couldn't think. It was an exhaustion I'd never felt through five pregnancies and subsequent sleepless nights.

I know it could get worse and it scares me.

And beyond the health issues, I miss my kids. I hate that I might not be there on M's orientation to nursery school or for her first day bringing snack. If I can't make it, and even if I can, she will have her dad there. And that's great - it really is - but dammit, I want it to be me.

His job is very flexible and his hours are better than mine and we took a risk doing that financially for awhile - but now, its paying off. He is able to get them on the bus in the mornings, the littlest to the babysitter and he's able to go on field trips and into the classroom as helper Dad.

I grew up believing that all of that would be ok with me. I envisioned an equal share in raising my children with my husband. I assumed I would work and I would be ok with that. I found a guy who agreed, who relished being a hands on dad, who felt left out if he didn't attend the parent teacher interviews or get to know their teachers and their friends. Its wonderful. It is. Its just that when I met these little beings that are my children...I realized how much I missed them when they are not here or when I am not here.

Time is flying by. This is my last chance to *ever* attend a nursery school orientation with one of my children. My last chance to be snack mom. I don't want to miss it.

When I work, everything here at home suffers. I am not present. I am not able to be 'mom' as well as if I'm not working. When I go into my days off, things are better. I take about a half day to recover and then I can get back into a routine. The past year I've put in a lot of extra days at work because we are having staffing problems but yesterday, in front of my boss and the big boss and some of my coworkers at a staff meeting - I said I would not be taking any extra days for awhile. I had personal reasons and I just wanted to work my rotation.

It makes things at work difficult and I am sympathetic because I have been the one at work shorthanded - but I am also exercising my right to selfishness. I've given them a year. I want a few months to see if when I'm back to my routine, I might be able to cope better at home. If the exhaustion that overwhelms me sometimes will back off. If I feel more present when I am home.

I have to work - not because we will starve if I don't and not because we have to drive a fancy new vehicle, which we don't - but for my peace of mind, I have to work.

There has got to be some way to make this liveable.