It was a big day today. I quit my job. People don't know whether to congratulate or console me, and to be honest my feelings on the matter are fairly complicated.
I liked my job. A lot. I like working. I don't believe that I fit the classic stay-at-home-mom stereotype, the June Cleaver who loves making her own baby food, heads up the PTA and doesn't mind a day of hanging around the house with the kids. I get bored easily. I am a very social being and I want to be around other grown-ups.
Yet, baby number three has changed everything. After Zachary and Evan were born I felt more than ready to put on a pair of high-heels and head back to the office, breast pump slung over my shoulder. But having a third being to take care of seems to have made things exponentially more challenging. Perhaps it is also that Zack and Evan are getting older and their needs are shifting as well. There is homework, play dates, lunches to pack, meals to prepare, endless amounts of laundry and mess to clean up. Fleas to kill. Keeping our life together seems to be an enormous job, and I feel that adding on an outside career would simply crush us.
So today I called my boss, whom I adore and quit the best job I ever had. I have to hope it was a good decision. I have to pray that I will stay sane and learn to stick to a tight budget. I know that the time with my baby will be well spent, he is my last. I now can take my time with him, nurse him without worrying about pumping, be there for all of his firsts and hopefully form an even deeper bond with him. I am lucky for this opportunity.
None of the decisions are easy ones. Women face a big delimma these days and sometimes it seems like there is no way to win. Today however I am going to choose to celebrate and toast to this new chapter.