Staying Home

So I left off in the last post, talking about why we decided for me to stay home this school year. Here is where I'd like to pick up:



Is staying at home hard? Yes, in some ways:

*I love teaching. I feel like I was meant to teach middle school, and I will miss it while I'm gone.

*It can get lonely. I miss grown-ups--although teaching middle school, you don't get to see that many grown-ups  (however, some might argue 8th graders are my true peers).

*It can get boring--the same rooms, same toys, same routine each day.

*It's a lot of responsibility--am I too easy on them? Am I teaching them the 'stuff' about life they're supposed to be learning? But you know what--leaving that responsibility to someone else when they're so young--that was infinitely harder for me.

*I hate doing dishes & laundry. I do them a lot now.



But was working full time with my kids in day care harder? Um, no competition. I don't think anything is harder than being a working parent. For me anyway. Because you still have to do all of the parenting stuff--you still have to try to teach them, spend time with them, keep them clean and healthy, encourage and comfort them--but you have so few hours to do it.

The chores don't go away. There is just less time to do them.

To schedule a doctor's appointment for one of Declan's many ear infections, I also had to notify 5 different people at my school, schedule a substitute teacher (which often required more than 20 phone calls and lots of begging--my school is not the most popular place to sub), write lesson plans, and play catch-up at work upon my return.

The schedule we were doing was not sustainable. Not for us. And I admire and respect all the parents who maintain it consistently.

Every day was hard. And long. I mean, from the time the kids left the house to when they returned was almost 11 hours, 5 days a week.

Every day was heartbreaking. The kids were so tired. So tired. All the time. My heart fell to pieces every time I had to nudge their precious faces awake in the morning or look at their over-tired eyes across the dinner table. And it wasn't fair to them.

And I missed them. I would go to fill out Declan's baby book during those months and realize I didn't know what to write.

And it wasn't fair to my students, who often got a teacher with only half a brain, very little sleep, and poor concentration trying to help them prepare for their high-stakes tests.

Looking back, I think the breaking point for me was when I sat Declan down at day care one morning, let go, and he continued sitting up on the floor. All by himself! I cheered! I clapped! I called his teachers' names to show them what he could do!

And they smiled & nodded.

I began to suspect they had seen it before. I asked, and it was true. We had missed him learning to sit up by himself.

That was when I decided there had to be another way. That the cost was too great for me. Because on top of the exhaustion and heartbreak, we were missing it. Missing him.

We loved their day care and it was hard to leave, but it was harder to leave them there.

And now the back-to-school sales have ended without a visit from me, and I haven't attended a pointless meeting since May, for the first time in 12 years.

In August, I began taking care of the sweet daughter of some long-time friends, and I'm excited about that too. I look forward to getting to know her and to my kids getting to play with her. And most of all, I look forward to being with my children. Pretty much every day. How cool is that?!





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