I have quit many many jobs in my life.
I quit Blockbuster’s Video when the manager wanted me to take out the trash to the back alley at midnight. I said I was a cashier and his trash from his office was not my job, and I was scared to go out there so late.
I quit a customer service job in a call center that turned out to be cold sales calls, not incoming customer service – they lied to me during training.
I quit a pizza shop job because they wanted me to come in too early to do prep, and to mop the floors with a mop that weighed more than me at the time.
I quit several data entry jobs because they were BORING.
I always thought I deserved some wonderful job, high paying, no boring drudge work, no dirty stuff, no heavy lifting, no early morning hours, no pushy sales. Yes, I want to be a princess, you got it.
And then I became a mom, and I have to do all of those things, every day, every night, no breaks, little thanks, little reward. If motherhood were just a job, I would have quit already.
Motherhood is messy, downright disgusting actually, scary, heart breaking, back breaking, even boring too at times.
So why do I stay? Why don’t I run off and escape like my sister-in-law did? As tempting as that thought is sometimes, no, I could never quit on my kids or my husband. I don’t know what happens to some people that they can turn that fantasy we all have in to reality and actually quit motherhood.
I do think I was not ready to be a mom, that I had lots more growing up and healing to do first. But so what? That’s not their fault. Nothing is their fault. They are beautiful, innocent children and they need me. And so I stay.
And I have the luxury of feeling pissy, because my kids are all healthy, smart, and generally not having any troubles. I am sure if illness or trauma hit our home, that this post would never be created, as I would be so sucked into being a mom to get through it.
I am not one of those moms that light up every time they see their kids little faces, or take thousands of pictures, afraid to miss any 1 moment. I am me, and they are them. We love each each other, but we don’t define each other.
I’d rather not have to clean up messed pants and vomit. I’d rather not get woken in the middle of the night for fevers or nightmares. But I do love making them feel better, making them feel safe and loved. I may feel exhausted and pissy, but feeling them snuggle into my arms and fall back asleep is so wonderful. I wish I had a snuggly mom to make it all better for me. I never did and never will.
And I wish I knew more to make life better and easier for them, but each day is a struggle. I have to learn so quickly to stay ahead of them. I have to step out of my comfort zone daily.
So the neighbor girls told me they are not allowed to come inside my house any more. At first I was relieved by this, since I like my safe quiet home uninvaded. But then I wondered why? I have not asked the mom why, and I don’t think I will, acually I know I won’t because I’d rather just die than start that conversation. They are still allowed to play in the yard. I guess she wants to see them easily. But it is confusing, because she started the inside play, inviting my kids inside to paint I her basement. I did not complain when they came home with paint in their toes, just asked them not to paint there anymore. And then last weekend her girls asked my kids to sleep over and said their mom said yes. I’m wondering now, if the mom has not been saying yes, and actually might not know what her kids are up to. Hmmm.
I like the other neighbor mom better, she calls to invite us over, we chat a bit, I walk the kids over and see she is out in the yard with them. Which is where they are now, so I better get some work done while it is quiet. As soon as I catch up on some blogs. See, I have priorities.