The Great Experiment Begins
As of 5 p.m. today, I am officially a full-time mother, and not a 40-hour-a-week professional.
I have been building up to this moment for over two years now, though it has only been about four months since Bee and I decided to actually make it happen. Since turning in my resignation four weeks ago, I've felt a little nervous about our decision, but mostly I have been excited.
As of 5:00 this morning, however, I've been terrified.
It's a difficult thing, in this current economic climate, to willingly give up a stable job and depend on Bee's consumer-driven business as our sole source of income.
It's a difficult thing to give up a satisfying career I've had for ten years, knowing full well that I will never get it back (and that's not just dramatics). When your career has so fully defined you for so long, it's easy to feel lost when it's gone. How will I introduce myself to people and still sound interesting?
It's a difficult thing to say that I'm quitting so I can be home more, because what if it turns out that I don't like home more? What if I go crazy being stuck with a two year-old much of the day? Would he be better off with a mother who is gone most of the day, but comes home satisfied, or with with a mother who is home all day but frustrated?
Part of the reason I did this was because I was either at work or with the baby, and felt guilty taking any time for myself. Now I'll be mostly with the baby, so I won't feel so bad handing him back to Bee so I can go out to a movie or (gasp!) go shopping by myself. I'll have a lot more of the freedom I crave. Of course, I won't have any money with which to enjoy this freedom. (Bee and I exult to each other that we'll finally be able to take long vacations because I won't have to feel guilty asking for time off work. I think those vacations are going to center around staying at relatives', where the lodging is free, or camping, where -- again -- the lodging is free.)
I think my biggest fear is that, if it turns out I don't like my new life, I won't have any right to complain about it. I went into this knowingly, after all, and against the sane advice of all that is responsible and practical. Bee used to beg me to quit my job years ago, but I didn't feel secure enough to do so. When I was finally ready to consider quitting, the tables had turned and I had to really talk Bee into it. So, if I don't like it, how can I complain to him?
Still, I must take comfort in the facts. Bee and I thought it through. We weighed the pros and cons. We have a plan to try to make things work, and we have each other for moral support. We may be a little scared, but we're also a lot excited.
This was not an easy decision, and it might not be the smartest decision, but that doesn't mean it isn't the right decision.
I have been building up to this moment for over two years now, though it has only been about four months since Bee and I decided to actually make it happen. Since turning in my resignation four weeks ago, I've felt a little nervous about our decision, but mostly I have been excited.
As of 5:00 this morning, however, I've been terrified.
It's a difficult thing, in this current economic climate, to willingly give up a stable job and depend on Bee's consumer-driven business as our sole source of income.
It's a difficult thing to give up a satisfying career I've had for ten years, knowing full well that I will never get it back (and that's not just dramatics). When your career has so fully defined you for so long, it's easy to feel lost when it's gone. How will I introduce myself to people and still sound interesting?
It's a difficult thing to say that I'm quitting so I can be home more, because what if it turns out that I don't like home more? What if I go crazy being stuck with a two year-old much of the day? Would he be better off with a mother who is gone most of the day, but comes home satisfied, or with with a mother who is home all day but frustrated?
Part of the reason I did this was because I was either at work or with the baby, and felt guilty taking any time for myself. Now I'll be mostly with the baby, so I won't feel so bad handing him back to Bee so I can go out to a movie or (gasp!) go shopping by myself. I'll have a lot more of the freedom I crave. Of course, I won't have any money with which to enjoy this freedom. (Bee and I exult to each other that we'll finally be able to take long vacations because I won't have to feel guilty asking for time off work. I think those vacations are going to center around staying at relatives', where the lodging is free, or camping, where -- again -- the lodging is free.)
I think my biggest fear is that, if it turns out I don't like my new life, I won't have any right to complain about it. I went into this knowingly, after all, and against the sane advice of all that is responsible and practical. Bee used to beg me to quit my job years ago, but I didn't feel secure enough to do so. When I was finally ready to consider quitting, the tables had turned and I had to really talk Bee into it. So, if I don't like it, how can I complain to him?
Still, I must take comfort in the facts. Bee and I thought it through. We weighed the pros and cons. We have a plan to try to make things work, and we have each other for moral support. We may be a little scared, but we're also a lot excited.
This was not an easy decision, and it might not be the smartest decision, but that doesn't mean it isn't the right decision.
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