I Admit It

I admit it. I don't want to go back to work tomorrow. I haven't been there since Christmas Eve. I've enjoyed being home with my kids. I've enjoyed being home and getting housework done. I'm not looking forward to getting back into that routine of not having enough time and energy to get it all done. I admit it. I like having a house that isn't pile upon pile upon pile of clutter and "to do's." I like feeling like I've accomplished something. I like feeling proud of my home. It's not perfect or well decorated... and I don't want it to be. But I like a sense of control, a sense of organization. I admit it. Being a stay at home mom would exhaust me. But I also know that I am still thinking of it in terms of how I feel at the end of the day after a full work day. So my perspective is skewed. But part of me knows that I would want to be able to send my kids away for a day or 2 each month for the sake of sanity. I also know that on the days when my kids are home all day, my house is a disaster. I admit it. At some point in the next few years, Jeff and I will need a vacation together. Just the two of us. I've said for a long time that I wouldn't be one of "those parents." I had this crazy idea that any vacation needed to include the kids. Period. But I'm feeling like Jeff and I could really use a looooong weekend with the kids at Grandma's and no worries... lounging about, seeing movies, eating great food, etc. I admit it. There is a part of me that has surfaced recently that appreciates having a job. I like the income, I like the adult interaction, I like using my brain, I like being appreciated, I like the routine, I like having medical insurance and other benefits. Sometimes I feel guilty for having the escape that my job offers. Sometimes I get through meltdowns by knowing I get to escape from them the next day. I admit it. I sometimes baffle myself. I recently got some news that really shocked me, surprised me. Something that happened in the past but that has permanent ripples and waves that impact many people, even if they don't realize the reasons. And I feel like I should be angry. But I'm not. I'm sad for the people most immediately caught in the crossfire. I can't figure out why I'm not angry... see, I baffle myself. I admit it. I really like blogging. I really like the connections I've made with other bloggers. I wasn't sure I'd take to it. I'm not always thrilled with what I write. But it has become about more than just having a blog. I'm back into writing and I like feeling that connection to my creative self again. Good night!