Posted by Duff

I’m on the cusp of my third trimester with MC, and what I really want to be thinking about is what color we’re going to paint the nursery or choosing the right name for an entire person, or how to prepare The Dervish for a change that she may or may not be ready for.

Next in line is how I’m going to wrap my brain around being the mother of two, how to balance the varying needs of a newborn and a just-about-three-year-old, and updating the household budget. These things, while less fun, need to be figured out.

But I really don’t want to have to worry about my job.  Or how I’m going to make it to every early meeting on time  when as it is (thank you, deoderant), amid the I Want to Wear My Pajamas to Daycare strike and the You Can’t Catch Me tappity-tap dance, I am barely making it. I can’t imagine how, short of mutating into an octopus, I’m going to get two out of the house at the end of the summer.

Please, MC, don’t hate your carseat.

And I don’t want anyone in a position to rate me professionally questioning  if I will be able to hack it upon my return (If I question it, that’s my business). But the doubt hangs there, unspoken. 

I wonder when it became a crime to just do my job, rather than trying to steal my boss’s job, and then go home to my family.  I wasn’t privy to that memo.

If it’s any indication of how this weighs on me, the other night I dreamt I was on a conference call and when it was my turn to present, I was completely caught off guard, because I had been reading a book.  If you knew how infrequently I read these days (and believe me, I am painfully aware), this dream is ridiculous.

How am I going to make this work?

I know it will mean even more planning, less sleep, a little more housework left undone. I hope that these sacrifices will keep me in a paycheck, and still in one piece. That I’ll still get ten minutes of hot shower every day, a haircut when I need it, and a few minutes here and there with my husband when we aren’t discussing how to allocate funds or solve a behavioral issue. Just a few pleasant minutes before we pass out, another day accomplished.  

It shouldn’t have to be like this, for any of us. 

I want to focus on slowing down the evenings and weekends that streak by so mercilessly that I can barely remember The Dervish as she was yesterday. I just know that she is different, and older, today.

Even if we could find another way to cover that pesky oil bill, I don’t feel like a Stay At Home Mom at heart. But sometimes the daily squeak of the hamster wheel makes it all feel so…pointless.

I’m open to suggestions.

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