Before I even had children, I knew I would want to be a working mom.
Sure, it’s possible that my mind could have changed after having my son, but it didn’t. I think it is partly due to the fact that I have found my passion in life – I love to teach. It’s something I have always wanted to do from the time I was in elementary school. She may disagree, but I like to think my little sister had an advantage in school because I spent every summer “teaching” her.
Secondly, I think my personality lends itself to working outside the home. I like to be on a schedule. I can be productive on my own, but having somewhere to be for a certain time definitely helps. Case in point: my summer vacation consists of binge-watching several Netflix shows (I’m looking at you, Gossip Girl and Lost) and reading dozens of books. Unless, of course, I have a professional development to attend or other teachers to train. I’m very good at
wasting time maximizing mental breaks.
I am happy with my job, and I feel fulfilled in my career. I enjoy teaching my students, and I take pride in their success.
Despite all of this, it’s not perfect.
There’s this one small moment each morning that leaves me with a small ache in my heart. It makes me wish I wasn’t leaving for work, but instead staying home.
Every morning, I wake up before dawn, make myself presentable, pack my lunch, and kiss my sleeping son on the cheek before I head out the door. That one moment is the WORST. That one moment reinforces the fact that the first time he will see me for the day will be long after his breakfast, his morning routine, and his drop off.
I do not see my son until after work, nearly 10 hours later.
I love that he loves his school. I love that I love it, too. Having a safe environment for him during the day is a huge relief. Yet, I still miss him.
The nature of my teaching job allows for zero down time. From the moment I arrive at school at 6:30 to the time I force myself to abandon my not-yet-finished to-do list at 3:30, I am non-stop. However, I still wonder how his day is going.
I am fortunate that my husband’s schedule and my own overlap in such a way that our son does not have to attend before-care. He gets one-on-one time with his dad before school, one-on-one time with me after school, and for that I am grateful. But, I still text my husband, asking how the morning went.