I want to share that after 90 consecutive days without a babysitter, the kids are back in “school” once more.Â This means I have eight whole hours a week of luxurious ME time again.Â For fancy things like grocery shopping and showering and writing.
I have been thinking a lot lately about the differences between working-motherhood andÂ stay-at-home-motherhood.Â And about doing both at the same time.Â Which I, and many of my friends, are attempting.
I have nothing enlightening to share on the topic, but I have been thinking.
What’s hard about “having it all”Â is that you never ever ever ever devote yourself to anything you do. Never fully. If you are a stay-at-home-author, this means that you never devote yourself to your writing.
And it’s strange for me, at this weird and wonderful professional moment in my life.Â Suddenly having opportunities I must turn down (events I cannot do, deadlines I cannot commit to, etc) makes me very aware of how much my professional life is compromised by my parenting.
ButÂ also how often my parenting is compromised by my professional life (as when I have to turn on the TV to take a phone call).Â Maybe if I made enough $$$ to justify a real nanny, and a work-space of my own, this would feel different. But for now, for me, writing time is naptime. And the “office” is full of duplo blocks.
Please understand that I do NOT mean to complain. I’m the luckiest woman in the world. With the two careers I most wanted. I’m blessed and happy and if there are boogers on my keyboard and peanut butter in my cleavage, it’s a small price to pay.
But still, I’m happy about my eight hours a week.
Delighted about my eight hours a week!
Today, I wasted all four of them.
It was delicious.