THE BIG TRADE OFF
It's been nearly two months now since I attempted to do the tight rope walking, ball juggling circus act know as full time working Mom. In some respects this hectic life has fallen into a normal routine of chaotic house, rushed mealtimes and minimal sleep habits. George plays housewife, cooking dinner, caring for Owen and doing dishes until I stumble in the door late in the evening, ragged from the perpetual grind of the bumper to bumper commute. There is barely enough time left to eat, bathe the gooey monster and send him off to bed before I devote the rest of my evening to compiling three lunches, two snacks and breakfast. By the time the weekend rolls around I stare at Owen in wonderment, struck by the ways in which he is grown and trying not to feel as if I barely know him.
And while our financial urgency has eased, the trade off has been enormous. I try not to focus on the resentment I feel every time I notice a new word, a new mannerism that I am certain he has learned somewhere else. Every moment I am not there to see the first scramble down the stairs, the first ride across the driveway is a moment I ache to relive. A moment I know is gone forever. This is the stuff that is priceless, the experiences you can not have back. This is the big trade off.
I think the only thing that sustains me as a parent is to never look back. My hold on the certainty that this is a temporary solution is all I have. And so I work harder, longer trying to secure that day when I will not have to leave him, when I will not have to be the third or fourth person to hear him say "Thank you" for the first time.
Just this week, Owen stopped protesting my departure. For a month and a half straight, there were tears and quivering lower lips every time I removed him from the safety of my arms in the morning. And then suddenly he stopped. The first day Owen looked simply panicked as I began to wave goodbye and move towards the door, but a word and a hug from his babysitter soothed him and he simply watched me leave. The next day he smiled, waving and calling out "bye, bye!". The last time I dropped him off he practically shoved me out the door, cheerful and confident in his happiness. "Bye, bye momma..."
And then it was my turn to sit out in the car and cry.
Posted by Kaz at June 9, 2007 1:45 PMThis is the exact struggle that keeps me questioning if kids are the right thing for us now. You are both very strong, and I'm sure it will work out, but it sucks. Your posts always make me think, and this one is very powerful as usual. I wish you both lots of love, luck and time with Owen.
Posted by: Erin at June 10, 2007 10:09 AMI hardly recognize you guys. Thinking about back in 2005, would you have ever predicted you would be crying about your son not crying? What a mindfuck this parenting business is.
Posted by: Reed at June 13, 2007 4:51 PM