We enter a new chapter of our lives today. Yesterday was my husband's last day at his job. We'll have a few days together before he starts his new job on Monday.
If I think more than a moment about it, my eyes fill with tears that I won't let fall because I don't want to explore what they mean. I am afraid that I am pretty bitter about the toll his work has taken on our family.
This job began with hope and was a relief from his first job after college, which he hated. The first few years were great. Then things began to change.
Our family grew and so did his workload. The company also changed ownership. Keith began to travel out of the country one week out of every month. He was assigned a Blackberry so that he was never truly away from work. He received email around the clock, and occasionally had to take phone calls in the middle of the night. I hated his Blackberry but I hated his travel even more.
When the boys were toddlers, and Keith was gone for a week, they actually didn't notice that days were going by without seeing Daddy. I kept us very busy and stayed positive, never mentioning that he was gone. It worked beautifully for awhile. I think their understanding of time was so limited that they didn't feel much different from a day that he was at work.
After awhile the boys would not be fooled as easily. Gavin started to have triggers, like sitting down for dinner, or going to bed, that would remind him that Daddy was gone and he would cry. Henry joined the club soon after and every time Keith was away was worse than the last. The last one was about 2 months ago and I am not exaggerating when I say that Henry cried the entire week.
I had a terrible cycle of withdrawing emotionally during the week leading up to one of Keith's trips, pretending to be happy while he was gone and taking a week to warm up to him after his return. This left only one good week a month when his travel schedule was at it's peek. I was torn between supporting him in his work, celebrating his success, and expressing my true feelings that he was choosing work over us. Mostly I just wanted to be with my Love. We agreed that this wasn't what we wanted but it seemed worth the sacrifice for a time.
It wasn't all bad. Once he had meetings near New York City so I tagged along and we spent a few days together. Another time, he had meetings in Paris so I rush ordered a passport and went along. I explored the sights of the city and went to museums (in Paris!) while he was at work and we enjoyed the evenings together. Two years in a row, he was named top salesman so we were sent on a fabulous trip to the Breakers Resort in West Palm Beach, Florida. All were once in a lifetime experiences.
Then there was the financial incentive, a commission on his sales which was paid once a year. This is where you sell your soul. This is what kept him there even as our family was suffering. We talked frequently about how much longer he should stay. We usually decided that we could make it one more year so he could collect his next commission.
Finally, we decided that the financial incentive is no longer worth the sacrifice required of our family. This is a perfect example of finding joy through freedom. We are breaking free from financial dependency on a job that was negatively effecting not only my husband (he was the only one actually doing it) but our entire family.
This weekend, we will go on a little family trip and it feels like a honeymoon. Next week, we begin a new chapter and I am cautiously hopeful and calmly anticipating what it will bring. No more Blackberry! No more travel! We now have a better understanding of our limits in the balance of work and life. Our family is valuable and we will treasure it more than gold. I love my husband and am continually amazed by all that he gives to me and to our kids.
Wednesday, April 24, 2013
Tuesday, April 16, 2013
Don't Call Me Supermom
When I became a mother, nearly 6 years ago, I began to notice that some of my friends and aquantainces called me Supermom. I kinda liked it but was also bewildered. What did they see in me that made them think that? I would never think to call one of my friends Supermom even if I thought they were. I certainly didn't walk around my house with my baby thinking "I'm Supermom! I've got Mommy Superpowers and I've got this whole thing under control!" I wish I had had such positive thoughts. I spent most days with my new baby feeling depressed and overwhelmed. I was fearful of every decision that I made.
I am the oldest of 10 children. Being in a large home school family meant that my childhood was spent reading books and taking care of babies. I loved it! At 8 years old, I thought I was a little adult. When I was 11, my mom had twin boys, babies #8 and #9. Life was very busy for her. She needed my twin sister and I to help her with the babies. We were thrilled! We each picked a baby and we became Jr. Mommies. As I moved through adolescence, I began working in the church nursery and became a favorite babysitter for families in our church. I loved children. They were and are my passion.
When I was searching the enrollment website of my University for degree plans to choose a major, I ran across Early Childhood Education. It sounded amazing! The degree plan was heavily based on child development from birth through age 8. I devoured the course material for every class. I had known kids my entire life, but I hadn't known all of the developmental details that I was learning. I was inspired to take the information from my courses and educate families and childcare workers about child development, a dream I hope to realize someday.
My Early Childhood Education degree is both my blessing and my curse. When I had my children, and it came time to discipline them, I was fearful of the long term outcomes of every decision that I made. If I let my baby cry it out, will he think that I have abandoned him? Will he learn that he can't trust others? If I respond immediately to his cries will he become dependent on me for his emotional well-being throughout his life? These questions became fears and they were paralyzing. I could see the pros and cons of every choice I made and what the possible long-term implications were.
I didn't sweat the small stuff with my babies. If the pacifier dropped on the floor, I would give it back. If we had a blow out diaper in public, I would calmly take care of it. I think this is where the first "Supermom" comments came from. I was confident and calm about caring for my newborn. I had done this before. Many of our friends who were new parents themselves, didn't have that confidence.
When I had my second baby, 16 months after the first, the Supermom comments became even more common. I stopped liking it. I knew I wasn't Supermom. I was doing this very hard thing every minute of everyday and all I could see were my shortcomings. I thought that with a background like mine, I should be better at this. A layer of guilt was laid brick by brick and cemented over the feelings of inadequacy that had built up inside of me.
The only time I liked to hear Supermom was if my dad said it. My Daddy would give me a hug and a kiss and say "You're Supermom, you know that?" He would look at me with pride and sincerity and I would beam inside and out. I also crave my husband's approval. When he says "You're a great Mommy." I sigh with relief because he noticed. He can say that to me everyday, several times, and it will never get old.
A few weeks ago, I walked into church at the same time as some friends. We dropped our kids off in their nurseries and went down to Sunday School together. When I sat down by myself, the other mom asked "Did you come here by yourself?" My husband travels alot for work so I quickly explained that Keith is here, he just had to arrive earlier to open the coffee bar. She said "You are Supermom." I cringed and blurted out "Don't call me Supermom. I yelled at my kids to get dressed this morning." I knew what she meant. She was thinking that she could never get her three kids (one is a newborn) all to church by herself. I made some small talk to make her feel better. We do this 4 days a week because we come to preschool at the church as well, my baby is a little older than yours, etc., etc.
Later that day, I realized why I dislike being called Supermom by other mothers. When one mom looks at another and says "Wow, you must be Supermom" what she means is some version of "You are good at this and I am not." I have spent way too much time believing that I suck at being a mom. Every other mom is doing this better than me. The worst feeling is that I am somehow hurting my kids. It is a miserable place to be and I certainly do not want to contribute to any other mother's feelings of inadequacy.
To my fellow mothers, my sisters, I am not perfect. I do not have all the answers. I make alot of mistakes. I lose my temper and often feel as though I am losing my sanity, as well. You are not perfect either, but you are better than you think you are. You love your kids. You take good care of them. You give it your all every moment of everyday and it's enough. Your children love you and are so glad that they have you for their Mommy. Your husband is proud of you. He thinks you are one heck of a woman and he gets nervous when he has to take care of the kids without you. As Glennon at Momastary would say, "Carry on, Warrior."
I am the oldest of 10 children. Being in a large home school family meant that my childhood was spent reading books and taking care of babies. I loved it! At 8 years old, I thought I was a little adult. When I was 11, my mom had twin boys, babies #8 and #9. Life was very busy for her. She needed my twin sister and I to help her with the babies. We were thrilled! We each picked a baby and we became Jr. Mommies. As I moved through adolescence, I began working in the church nursery and became a favorite babysitter for families in our church. I loved children. They were and are my passion.
When I was searching the enrollment website of my University for degree plans to choose a major, I ran across Early Childhood Education. It sounded amazing! The degree plan was heavily based on child development from birth through age 8. I devoured the course material for every class. I had known kids my entire life, but I hadn't known all of the developmental details that I was learning. I was inspired to take the information from my courses and educate families and childcare workers about child development, a dream I hope to realize someday.
My Early Childhood Education degree is both my blessing and my curse. When I had my children, and it came time to discipline them, I was fearful of the long term outcomes of every decision that I made. If I let my baby cry it out, will he think that I have abandoned him? Will he learn that he can't trust others? If I respond immediately to his cries will he become dependent on me for his emotional well-being throughout his life? These questions became fears and they were paralyzing. I could see the pros and cons of every choice I made and what the possible long-term implications were.
I didn't sweat the small stuff with my babies. If the pacifier dropped on the floor, I would give it back. If we had a blow out diaper in public, I would calmly take care of it. I think this is where the first "Supermom" comments came from. I was confident and calm about caring for my newborn. I had done this before. Many of our friends who were new parents themselves, didn't have that confidence.
When I had my second baby, 16 months after the first, the Supermom comments became even more common. I stopped liking it. I knew I wasn't Supermom. I was doing this very hard thing every minute of everyday and all I could see were my shortcomings. I thought that with a background like mine, I should be better at this. A layer of guilt was laid brick by brick and cemented over the feelings of inadequacy that had built up inside of me.
The only time I liked to hear Supermom was if my dad said it. My Daddy would give me a hug and a kiss and say "You're Supermom, you know that?" He would look at me with pride and sincerity and I would beam inside and out. I also crave my husband's approval. When he says "You're a great Mommy." I sigh with relief because he noticed. He can say that to me everyday, several times, and it will never get old.
A few weeks ago, I walked into church at the same time as some friends. We dropped our kids off in their nurseries and went down to Sunday School together. When I sat down by myself, the other mom asked "Did you come here by yourself?" My husband travels alot for work so I quickly explained that Keith is here, he just had to arrive earlier to open the coffee bar. She said "You are Supermom." I cringed and blurted out "Don't call me Supermom. I yelled at my kids to get dressed this morning." I knew what she meant. She was thinking that she could never get her three kids (one is a newborn) all to church by herself. I made some small talk to make her feel better. We do this 4 days a week because we come to preschool at the church as well, my baby is a little older than yours, etc., etc.
Later that day, I realized why I dislike being called Supermom by other mothers. When one mom looks at another and says "Wow, you must be Supermom" what she means is some version of "You are good at this and I am not." I have spent way too much time believing that I suck at being a mom. Every other mom is doing this better than me. The worst feeling is that I am somehow hurting my kids. It is a miserable place to be and I certainly do not want to contribute to any other mother's feelings of inadequacy.
To my fellow mothers, my sisters, I am not perfect. I do not have all the answers. I make alot of mistakes. I lose my temper and often feel as though I am losing my sanity, as well. You are not perfect either, but you are better than you think you are. You love your kids. You take good care of them. You give it your all every moment of everyday and it's enough. Your children love you and are so glad that they have you for their Mommy. Your husband is proud of you. He thinks you are one heck of a woman and he gets nervous when he has to take care of the kids without you. As Glennon at Momastary would say, "Carry on, Warrior."
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