I've been a working mother for a while now. I worked one day a week while the Orclette was little. It allowed me to stay with her yet still interact with adults. When we moved here my job was the sole source of income so I bumped up the workload. That's also when Miniorc came on the horizon and gave me the worst nausea I've ever felt:) Fun times. Then I was the sole parent while Damm was away for training and didn't work. Then Damm came back and I worked one or two days per week. Then his financial aid ran out. Fortunately a position at work opened up so I was able to get more hours. I was also enrolled in two classes; I estimate my weekly workload (including the job and homework) at anywhere from 40-50 hours. Now I'm looking at a possible full-time position; if I did that my workload would be only 40 hours because I wouldn't be taking any classes. More time with the kids, right? Yay!
Except that when I contemplate the transition from part-time to full-time, even though my overall workload decreases (as well as our stress levels), my guilt increases. It shouldn't; one of the things I promised myself is that my kids would not be put into daycare and so far we've kept to that. Either Damm or one of the grandma's watches them when I'm not. I'm the primary financial provider right now, the one who's making sure Damm is able to finish school so I can "retire":) So why do I feel guilty? I'm wondering if it's not guilt, but simply that I miss them and am rather envious of those who get to spend time with them. On the other hand (this is a small sampling of the arguments that I have in my head) Damm might be deployed in the future and getting to spend time right now with his kids is pretty awesome. Same with the grandma's; who knows if we'll be able to live in the same area? How cool that they get to spend time with them. I have some pretty awesome memories of summers spent with my grandma, and I want them to have the same type of memories. I also really enjoy what I do at work. I excel at it, and that is an enjoyable feeling.
And yet the feeling is still there. It shouldn't be, and it really only hits me as they're falling asleep and I get to witness their cuteness without the excess energy.
Sigh. Three more semesters, some more training and then we're done and Damm can shower me with diamonds (figuratively) for all the hard work and sacrifice. And then I can spend time wishing that I still worked, just a little bit, just to get out of the house:)