In June of 2012, I wrote a post called In a perfect world. The post was a emotionally charged post, mostly due to pregnancy hormones, and I’ve often gone back to read it a few times.
In a perfect world, my job, my career, my income brought into my family would be from my writing.
I would start every morning off in my robe, with a cup of coffee, and with my laptop and end the day probably still in my robe or at least comfortable clothes I wear around the house and my laptop. Certainly, I would make breakfast for myself and the kidlet (come October kidlets), make lunch, tackle laundry, dishes, the house cleaning, maybe play a few hours outside (weather permitting), but the majority of the day I would be blissfully writing. Whether it be my blog, my manuscript, working on submissions, or, if I’m dreaming here, the edits my Editor sent for me to revise before publication.
I wouldn’t have to drive into the city in the morning or drive home in the evening battling traffic. I wouldn’t have to answer the phone and deal with people angry over the fact that I want their money. I mean, I know no one likes to be reminded about their bills, but come on they are your bills. You made them and it’s your responsibility to now pay them. I wouldn’t have to ask for a day or afternoon off to spend time with my family or go to an appointment. I wouldn’t have to worry about whether or not a President or CEO questioned my effectiveness. And, I wouldn’t have to deal with draining day in and day out problems.
But above all of that, I wouldn’t have to leave my daughter in the care of a day-care facility. I wouldn’t have to miss milestones like crawling, walking, and first words. I wouldn’t get colored pictures at the end of the day that make me go to bed in tears knowing that I’m missing my kids’ childhood because of a job. And I wouldn’t be surrounded with friends who get to stay at home with their kids while I don’t. Don’t get me wrong, the fault in feeling jealous of them is with me. None of my friends have ever purposely made me feel bad about having to work.
The subject of working and staying at home has been a bit of a touchy subject with me lately. I blame the hormones. I don’t believe that a debate over working mom and stay a home mom should exist, though. Instead of bashing each other for our choice (or lack of the ability of a choice) we should support one another and understand one another. Both a dear friend and I are facing the issue after our six-week maternity leave is over, putting our itty-bittys in day-care. The thought makes my skin crawl. I already hate leaving my daughter every morning with her sad face and “I will miss you” words, and I don’t even want to think about what it’s going to be like to drop off and leave an infant with someone else. Unfortunately, leaving two kids in day-care is a dread I will have to face. Living on one income just isn’t an option for my family no matter how badly I wish it was.
I love my job and I work for an amazing boss and company. Still though, it’s just not home with my kid, it’s still working for someone else’s benefit, and it’s just not my dream. Perhaps one day I will live my dream. How soon, I don’t know. I know I wish it was as soon as tomorrow, but I know that is unrealistic. So for now I will grit my teeth and drive to work in the mornings and make my evenings at home count as much as possible.
Wow. What a difference a couple of years make. Fast forward and now I’m happily a stay-at-home mother to a 7 year old and a 2 year old, and while I’m not living off my novels (LOL does any author really aside from the big names?), writing is now my full time job and career.
I start every morning off in my robe, with a cup of hot chocolate (I gave up coffee months ago because of ulcers) and my laptop in my lap and I end the day in comfortable clothes I wear around the house. While I don’t get a lot of time to write since I started homeschooling and, well let’s face it, taking care of two kids is not like taking care of one, I still get a few hours a day, when I get up early enough and during nap time. My writing time is for the most part blissful. Unless I am bashing my head into the wall from writers block. And, I suppose I wasn’t dreaming too much about revisions from an Editor since my second novel is about to release and I’m awaiting the outcome for my third. 🙂 Fingers crossed it will be accepted, too.
I don’t fight traffic anymore, don’t have to deal with draining day in and day out problems, and best of all, I don’t miss my kids. Sure, some days are beyond hard, but I wouldn’t trade them for anything. Do I miss paychecks? Uh, yes, I do very much so, but in the end I would be pretty much paying for gas and daycare by going to work, so what I once thought wasn’t an option turned out to be the best one.