Thursday, August 20, 2009

The Exhaustion

So, it has been over a month and a half since I decided to quit my job and stay at home with my two daughters. This is a very drastic change for me, as I was leaving one of the nation's largest mutual fund managers as a database analyst and coming to be in what I saw as a thankless position.

Ironically, as I begin this writing, I just received an email from my husband thanking me for all that I do and for being the only person that is truly there for him, so it cannot be that thankless. But trust me, there are days where I question my decision and worry about our future and cannot believe how long I have been on my feet consistently. This truly is is one of the hardest jobs I have ever tackled. I feel lucky though.

There are several people who would love to be stay at home parents, who simply cannot afford it. But I am almost psychotic about budgeting and number crunching and have created umpteen spreadsheets just to make this work. We are living off of $1000 a month after our bills and regardless if we have more disposable cash than that we are sticking to the $1000 a month. I got tired of throwing away money on useless things, buying to ease depression, eating out because of exhaustion, letting someone else raise our we make it work.

I have an appointment to get my hair done tomorrow and I have never felt more guilty about it. I have been getting my hair done every 8 weeks and decided to do highlights a few times ago. Well, inevitably the highlights have grown to be about 2 inches from my scalp and I have a decision to make. Do I get my hair done and "treat" myself to something nice or do I forgo the luxury? I know this is a stupid decision to make and not that critical, but lately I have been feeling as if I lost my identity by staying at home.

There are days when I can't even shower until after 3...okay, every day I can't shower until after 3 or during nap time. When I finally do shower, I rush through it, shaving sometimes, and I jump out to grab the crying 17 month old not more than 4 minutes later! At least I was able to save some decency by grabbing my towel, but that too falls to the ground sooner or later. Then I rush to find something to wear, but I am out of any shorts that fit me so I grab these brown khaki shorts that make me wear my muffin tops proud. My four year old, no wait...4 1/2 year old according to her, walks in and tells me my clothes are ugly and that I need to put on a dress. (Hail to June Cleaver, but I think not.) Then the make up is easily passed by, not so much as a shmear of lip gloss to lighten my dullness. I jump on the scale just to add salt to the wound and run downstairs and begin dinner, hand out treats, change the laundry and read everyone's posts on facebook that I haven't talked to for the past 10 years.

Quotes from songs that nobody cares about, political rantings and an update of what they did in the past five seconds... every five seconds. Just to realize I don't have anything that is witty to say or do I care enough to post my own. I delete my cynical comment to other postings before I hit the comment button and then click on Bejeweled Blitz, the brainwashing game from hell. Just when I think I am about to beat my high score, I have to go back to serving drinks, being a short order cook, and changing the poopy diaper. After I have finally had enough, my baby comes up to me wanting nothing more than to hug me and kiss me in the first available spot on my body. It makes everything else disappear and gives me the refill of courage and strength I need to get up and start it all again.

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