Staying at Home is Too Hard

I often joke that being a stay at home mom would be a hell of a lot harder than my job.  The reality is, it isn’t a joke, it’s 100% true.  I have several friends who are stay at home moms, I have so much respect for them, I don’t know how they do it.  I love my kids, more than anything else in the world, BUT I cannot imagine my life revolving completely around them 24 hour a day, seven days a week.  I would go batty.

I took four months maternity leave when I had Cara, after about two and a half I was itching to go back.  I love her and loved being home with her.  But I also loved my independence, my interaction with other adults, the opportunity to use the toilet, by myself.  When I went back to work I was a wreck. I think I cried for a week.  I was sad about leaving her, and selfishly, I think I was sad I might miss something.  That didn’t mean I wasn’t glad to be working.

Over time, I realized that Cara actually loved going to daycare.  Her friends were there; she was learning a lot and probably was allowed to make bigger messes than I would permit at home.  Occasionally, she would go through phases where she would make a fuss when I dropped her off, but she was all smiles and didn’t want to leave in the afternoon.  It got to the point when we dropped her off that she would run off to play with her friends with no thought to saying goodbye.

When I had Bri, I took another four months.  This time was different, this time I had two.  Holy crap two is hard.  We sent Cara to daycare two days a week; I looked forward to those days like Christmas.  That sounds awful I know, but anyone who has had a two-year-old and an infant can tell you, the two-year-old doesn’t care that you have an infant.  And the infant couldn’t be bothered with the two-year-old. 

I was grateful for Gymboree and our Oakland Zoo membership; we spent a lot of time at both.  Because of the demands of a newborn, I also allowed Cara to watch more TV than I otherwise would have thought appropriate. (Bad habits are hard to break and we are just now getting back into a TV off rhythm)  I schlepped them on errands and lunches. I worked around them as installed new flooring.  We made frequent trips to the park, signed up for swim lessons.  I was running out of ideas and sanity.  How do stay-at-home parents find stuff to entertain kids day after day?

Despite the craziness, I think I was more anxious about going back to work the second time.  I don’t think it was because I was worried about Bri.  I knew she was going to be loved and well looked after.  This time, I think it was mostly me being selfish.  I know now how fast they grow up.  I knew that I would miss stuff not that I might and that tore me apart.  For the month leading up to my return to work, I couldn’t sleep.  I would lay in bed for hours every night thinking about it.

I went back to work on a Thursday.  We dropped the two girls off, my eyes got a little misty, I gave them both kisses and off I went.  I didn’t cry.  For a few days, I felt bad that I didn’t cry, as if I should have to validate my anxiety or demonstrate how hard it is to say goodbye each morning.  I realize, I love my kids, I love working and for me personally, I am a better mom for it.