Friday, January 29, 2010

Point, Counterpoint

13 days after I had Will, I got a frantic text message from a coworker: "Dial into the conference bridge ASAP!" Turns out my boss - and co-owner of the company - was leaving. His reasons were cryptic and the office was alive was gossip. I just kinda shrugged my shoulders and went back to my delicious little baby. 3 days later, I get a call from my other boss, asking me to lunch. Because I'm cocky naive, I assumed that he wanted to talk to me about company strategy, since I was the most senior employee in our office.  Wrong.  Not only did he not feed me lunch, he actually said "I'm sure you saw this coming..." as he slid the severance agreement paperwork across the table.  Um, no.  Not really.  Just gave birth 16 days ago, didn't really think I'd be losing my job.  I had brought Will to the meeting because...ya know, 16 days old....and as my former boss left the room, I just looked at Will with tears streaming down my cheeks (see: Postpartum) and my mind went absolutely blank.  I mean, WHAT to tha FUCK.

Fastforward nearly 3 months.  After applying for about 80 jobs so far, I've had 5 job interviews (thank god for you, belly shaper) and by far my most promising one happened today.  I have a second interview on Tuesday, and I just feel like this might be THE ONE.

Had I not been laid off, I would have been back to work for 5 weeks now.  Instead, I've been spending day after glorious day in my pajamas surrounded by toys, burp cloths, and waaaaay too much Dora (River....Farmhouse....Castle!    River....Farmhouse....Castle!  River....Farmhouse....Castle!  River....Farmhouse....Castle!  YES, WE GET IT!  YOU ARE GOING TO THE RIVER, FOLLOWED BY THE FARMHOUSE AND THEN THE FUCKING CASTLE! SHUT YOUR MOUTH, YOU WEIRD TALKING MAP).  It's like groundhog day over here.

Cue internal struggle.

Stay At Home Mom Me: I am ready to go back to work
Working Me:  Are you kidding?  The last few months of pregnancy you were all "woe is me, I wish I could stay at home 3 months with the kids"
SAHMM:  Well, yeah, but that was when I knew I had a job to come back to.  Now, it's like this never ending series of days where I forget what it's like to pee in a room by myself.
WM:  I can't believe you are saying this!  You are bitching about wearing your PJs all day and hanging out with your kids?  Poor you.
SAHMM:  You have no idea!  You get to drive in the car by yourself and have interesting conversations with other adults and eat your entire lunch while it's hot and go to the gym.
WM:  Drive in the car?  Is this the same 40 minute commute that you bitched about on a daily basis?
SAHMM:  Well....yeah....but at least you get to listen to music and can hear yourself think.
WM:  And sit in traffic!
SAHMM:  Okay, okay, you're missing the point.  All I'm saying is....I miss the other parts of me.  The parts where people think I'm smart.  The part where I could go to the gym on my lunchbreak and blast my iPod.  The part where I was allowed to be a little selfish.  And most of all, the part where I could miss my kids.
WM:  Let me get this straight - You want to get up at 6am to get yourself and the kids out the door to daycare, pump in the bathroom at work, have crazy deadlines and annoying coworkers.
SAHMM: I just want to leave so I can want to come home.
WM: Dude, you are weird.

I want this job so bad.  I'm ready to go back to hating Mondays, I'm ready to bitch about my commute, I'm ready to meet new friends and have new challenges and use my brain for more than just trying to come up with a creative craft to kill an hour before naptime.  This has been an interesting experiment on if I want to be a SAHM.  And do I?  No.  It has nothing to do with my level of love I have for my kids - these boys make my heart go places it's never been.  And for them, it's time for me to go back to work - so I can miss them enough that I want to smother them with kisses and attention and love for the 3 hours I'll have them before bedtime every day and enjoy every single moment.  Because I'm tired of having the conversation where I go "Finn, blah (blah = come here, eat your lunch, pick up your toys, stop making so much noise while your brother sleeps, put on your pants, etc etc ETC).  Hey, blah! I saaaaiiiiid blah.  Finn, if you don't blah RIGHT NOW, you are going to time out."  Because really, all he hears now really is "blah".

So, wish me luck Tuesday at 10.

p.s....Stay at home moms:  Mad props.  Seriously.