Snips and Snails and Puppydog Tails

I have to confess something. I have a jealous streak – a big one. I try to suppress it, and most of the time I’m successful. But there are days when I don’t do so well at controlling my green-eyed monster. Sometimes it rears up when I least expect it. Like the way my husband looked trying on some really great-looking (I mean, WAY sexy-model-type!) jeans at the store and realizing just how other women must see him. I mean, he looked so yummy that for a second I didn’t see the man I’ve always loved; I saw the piece of meat that other single women would be “hubba-hubba”-ing behind my back. This particular episode (like many others I’ll admit to – this is a confession after all, right?) I know was brought about by my own insecurity (and the hubby’s cute butt!). And, for the record, yes, it did also serve to reinforce to my mind just how lucky I am to be with this man forever!

Then there are the times that jealousy rears up simply because I fall victim to wanting to “keep up with the Joneses.” I momentarily forget that I certainly have everything I need and much, much more. Typically the “Joneses-Jealousy” and the insecurity-jealousy pass pretty quickly and do minimal damage.

Lately, though, I have to admit to another kind of jealousy. . . one that has lasted much longer and is likely doing some damage. I’ve been able to quiet it some, but it’s getting more difficult every day. This is SAHM jealousy. Ask anyone who knew me in high school and college, and they’d tell you that I never wanted to be a SAHM. I wanted a family, when the time was right, but I was smart, educated (or going to be), and dammit, I wanted to WORK. (Feminists cheer here) Plus, I thought I’d need it for my sanity. Then, when I met the right guy and his two wonderful boys, and eventually got bit – HARD – by the baby bug, I started thinking that maybe I WOULD like to be a SAHM. Then Sam came along, and that feeling got stronger, and continues to grow stronger and stronger. It’s gotten to the point that I am really and truly JEALOUS of the SAHMs I know. (Feminists groan here)

The jealousy pangs (fangs?) hit multiple times this week – a new mommy friend of mine said she’d just turned in her resignation, and I sighed heavily, wishing that could be me. I mean, I truly felt a hollow pit in my stomach about this. Another friend of mine will be going back to work full time next week after getting to basically stay home with her baby full-time for nearly 9 months. I empathize with her nervousness about this change, but also admit to thinking, “but you at least had that time – I didn’t get that.” A few days later, I found out that another friend’s childcare arrangements got turned over, and while they’re considering their options for new arrangements, one thing they might be considering is her staying home. I wanted to cry; I was so jealous at the thought. I really did.

Every day I hate dropping Sam off at daycare (and we really do LOVE his daycare). I hate that I miss so much time with him and his big brothers during the week (and it’s even worse during busy season). I hate that I’m so mentally exhausted and drained each evening and weekend that I feel like I don’t fully appreciate and enjoy the time I DO get with them. I hate that I begin to resent the boys’ extra-curricular activities because they fill up a weekend I need to get all the stuff done that I can’t do during the week – I hate that I can’t just enjoy them the way I should.  I hate fighting traffic for 30 to 45 minutes to get to a job I like less and less every day. I hate that I can’t fully focus on work because I miss my baby, and that when I’m home, I can’t fully focus on my family because I am both prepping for and dreading having to leave them again for work. It has gotten to the point that I dread Sundays because I know I have to go to work the next day, and that I can’t fully enjoy the last days of a vacation because I am so heartsick at going back to my daily drudge.  I don’t like wishing my life away, and that’s what I feel like I do every week. On Monday morning, I can’t wait for Friday afternoon. (For the record, I also hate how negative I’ve begun to sound; really, I’m not typically a negative person.)

I know that right now, staying home just isn’t in the cards, or budget, for us. With three growing boys, house note (and no, we’re not house poor, but without my salary, we very likely would be), bills, my student loan debt, car note, child support, etc., the money is definitely flowing out more than in. While we haven’t run all the numbers to exhaustion, I’m not sure we could ever make enough cutbacks to make it work – especially since Bryan and I feel strongly about how much debt we are comfortable carrying. Plus, we do hope all three boys go to college, and that requires some saving, which we couldn’t do without my salary. (Don’t misread this, my salary is actually pretty laughable, but it does count for something.)

Probably I would feel differently if I liked my job more. It’s no real secret to those who know me that I’m really unhappy in my current job. I do have resumes out and am actively looking for something new. Ideally, of course, I’d like to find something that would allow me to work from home – if not all the time, at least part of the time. But I know I don’t have to tell you that the economy isn’t exactly conducive to quick job searches. I’m still looking, though. I’m also considering a bigger career change, but that would take a little more long-term planning to make happen.

So, there you have it. My confession to a serious weakness that I really am trying to master. For all the working moms out there, please tell me that what I feel is normal, and that I’m not just a whiny baby (contrary to how this post probably sounds.) Or, maybe tell me that I am a whiny baby and I need to just suck it up (though I don’t promise to not get pissy about that, at least for a little bit).  Tell me that, really, my biggest issue is being in a job that I don’t feel is worth leaving my family for every day, and that when (I’m thinking positively here) I’m in a better place (whether that’s a new position or better satisfied with my current position) the green-eyed monster will sleep again. SAHMs out there, please don’t think I don’t know how hard you work or that being a SAHM is easier than being a working mom. I know being a SAHM a tough, tough gig, with no pay, crazy hours, and not nearly enough respect, vacation, or sick time. And yet, I truly, truly, truly want to join your ranks.