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Wednesday, December 21, 2011

Pour Your Heart Out: SAHM Blues

Thanks, Shell...clearly, I needed to get this out.

I've worked since I was 16 years old.

That's 21 years if you're counting (and let's not, okay?  omgi'mgettingold).

I love to work.

I've been a SAHM for 3+ years.  It doesn't seem like a lot, but it feels like a looooooong time.

I miss teaching more than I thought I would.  I miss my friends.  I miss the built-in society we had in that school.

I don't have that.  I don't have close friends that I could call at the drop of a hat and complain to.  All of my good friends work.  I have acquaintances and I don't wanna call them (whine, whine).

I go back and forth with close girlfriends.  I had a few in middle school...not many in high school...a ton in college and in my 20s, but things have changed.

People are so damn busy and we've spread out geographically.

I don't really like many people in our area...not enough to feel comfortable enough to really put the time/energy into cultivating a new friendship.  It's hard enough to say "hi" or "good morning" when you're dragging twins into their school...much less ask a harmless question like "how was your weekend?" and be able to actually concentrate on the answer.

The other thing that's hard about our area is that a lot of people who live here grew up here.  They know each other.  They go way back.  They're leery about outsiders.

So, where is this all coming from?

I was blindsided by Husband the other day about whether or not I was happy.  I hadn't really been thinking about it, but I haven't been happy.  Staying at home is b.o.r.i.n.g sometimes and, to be honest, I'm not that happy.

We talked about me going back to work.

We talked about how this may not be enough for me.
We talked about our options.

I cried...a lot.

I contemplated the decision...what it would entail.

I questioned my sanity because I have a really good life.  I get to (yes, I say "get to" because I am lucky enough to be able to do this) stay at home with my kids.  I get to see all of their little moments.  I get to get them dressed every day and talk about what adventures we're going to embark on that day.  I get to rescue them from scary situations.  I get to encourage them in risky situations.  I get to wipe their noses, eyes, and asses.  I get to pick them up when they fall.  I get to let them learn their lesson.  I get to share all of that with them.

I am lucky.

So, if I'm so lucky, why can't I be happy at the same time?

Husband's concern was that my personality was being flattened (my words, not his...he was much more sensitive) and that I wouldn't be able to get it back.  Interesting...will I really be able to get it back?  I freaking talk to 3-year olds  How in the world could I restart my career with people who haven't taken a break?  People who have continued to educate themselves?  People who have maintained their social skills?

But wouldn't the money be nice?  
Wouldn't it be nice if someone outside of this house relied on me?  If they thought what I was doing was important rather than just telling me repeatedly that I gave them the wrong snack cup?
Wouldn't it be nice to see adults every single day?  (then I reminded myself that most adults are assholes)
Wouldn't it be nice to feel like myself again (because I feel completely at home in a middle school classroom)?

Husband was also afraid that I'd resent this time in our lives...or worse...resent the Crazies.

And the bigger question...what in the world would I do with my kids if I did go back to work?

We don't have family down here.

I don't trust other people.

I would have a real issue knowing that my children were being driven around by someone other than us (because I'm such an awesome driver, right?  I never always speed and I've only been in a few several accidents).

I'm not there yet.

I'm not there yet.  There, I've said it.

But I had to get it out.  I'm not the only one who feels that this is mind-numbingly boring sometimes.  I'm not the only one who feels lonely in an era of unending social connections.  I'm not the only who wonders if there's something that I'm missing (and then immediately feels guilty because so many people want to do what I'm doing).  I'm not the only one who feels that her personality is being zapped by the fact that I repeatedly laugh over someone saying "underpants."  I'm not the only one, right?

I'm not ashamed over repeatedly laughing over farts though...farts will forever be funny.

Oh, and at least there's this.  Hope springs eternal!