I haven’t worked in over 4 years. According to my calculations, which are spotty at best since I only have 20 fingers and toes, it’s been over 50 months since I had to get up in the morning, shower, put on actual pants, and head out the door to be all professional and stuff.
I’m not one of those women who always wanted to be a stay at home mom, but I did really want to quit my job and stay home. Ugh, who wants to go to work every day? The kids are just a slight hiccup in my long term plan to lay on my couch and be lazy.
There’s oodles of things I don’t miss about working. I don’t miss spending my days in a slow and boring workplace that seemed to suck the life out of me one flourescent light bulb at a time. I don’t miss propping my eyelids open with toothpicks, hoping no one would catch me falling asleep at the front desk while I pretended to review account applications. I don’t miss explaining to a full on adult that yes, I understand that you still have checks in your checkbook, but that doen’t mean you have any money in your account. Not kidding.
I don’t miss awkward conversations in the break room. In fact, I don’t miss working with other people. I’m a loner, Dotty. A rebel.
But since my life took this turn to stay at home mom/commander in chief/ignorer of laundry, I realize that there are a few things I actually do miss about working.
Traffic sucks ass, but the only time I really cared about traffic was when I was running late. Which turns out was all the time, but whatever. The morning drive was my wake up time, my zen time, my time just for me before I had to start dealing with the monotany of the work day or the ridiculous problems that ensue when you put me in charge. If Christian and I ever carpooled to work, he would get all creeped out by my lack of usual non stop chatter, and he’d try to coax something out of me. To which I responded, “Shut up, I’m listening to JB & Sandy, fool!”
Working My Brain
Have we met since I had kids? Ok. Then believe me when I say I was once a capable, intelligent, and sharp chick who thought quick on her feet and actually made sound decisions. But my brain flew out the window before my kids even came out of the womb, and I have yet to get it back. One of my employees brought me a $35,000 check to approve in my 7 month pregnant state, and all I could do was look at the check, back to the screen, back to the check, back to the screen like a bad game of Pong. My brain simply would. not. work.
These days I’m lucky if I can form a coherant thought, much less make a decision that will decide anyone’s fate. I had my pediatrician call in Claire’s EpiPen like 4 times before I actually remembered to go pick it up, and even then a friend had to suggest I go to a drive thru pharmacy. Like WTF, genius? And when Zoe gets stung by a bee and her hand swells up? Christian calmly heads straight for the Benedry, while I run around like a chicken with my head cut off screaming, “WHERE’S THE FIRE EXTINGUISHER???”
Writing does work my brain, but I fulfill the role of the flaky artist at a level in which I never did when I was an actual artist.
This is so stay at home momish of me to say, but I miss having a reason to get dressed. I miss wearing clothes that didn’t have weird stains on them and that fit properly. I also miss my pre kids pants size.
Passing the Buck — I mean “Delegating”
Come on. What is the point of being a manager if you can’t pass off the crap you hate doing to someone else?
“Hey, can you review these membership applications for me?”
“Could you unpack that shipment of toilet paper that just came in?”
“Oh, hey, can I ask you to alphabatize these reports for me? Thanks, you’re a LIFESAVER.”
Seriously. I may be chief around here now, but there’s usually no one to whom I can delegate wiping a 4 year old’s ass, other than the other 4 year old, and let’s face it — that’ll just end up being more work for me.
Also, I had a ridiculously hard time coming up with delegation examples, so either I really have been out of the workplace for a long time, or I sucked at delegating to begin with.
Lunch Time Nom Nom
True story: When the twins were still tiny, we had to run an errand to the credit union where I used to work. I was beyond excited and said, “OMG! We can go to Hill-Berts for lunch!!!” Christian was all, “Um, okay, why is that so exciting?” And I was all, “Hello! I never get to go anywhere!!!” It was like a field trip for the asylum inmates.
And it’s just been downhill from there.
This goes without saying. When I quit my job, our income was cut almost in half, while our expenses skyrocketed, thanks to the fact that we were now diapering and feeding 2 babies (hey thanks, breastfeeding discount!). But you know what? Had I had just one baby, I don’t think I could have justified quitting my job, even though financially it would have put us in the same place (or better, since it would have been just one).
And then you probably wouldn’t be reading this RIGHT NOW. OMG it’s like cosmic connection, y’all.