Monday, April 5, 2010

Just Lie to Me

The last 3 weeks at work have been the worst I have ever had. There's "something" going on, but no one will talk about it. About 2 weeks ago I was called down to the corporate office " have a standard quarterly meeting." This in itself is not a big deal. All the small comments, silent meetings, odd phone conversations and a little inside know is what has kept me on pins and needles. It's like I'm stuck in high school all over again.

Finally, late last week I put on a strong face and walked the plank to my "quarterly meeting." Thankfully, it was not bad for my team...yet. It was awkward and crunchy at times, but right now my people here still have their jobs. There is trouble brewing and I'll yield to the silent warning I have received. It's no secret I hope to be home with my kids, but getting fired is not the way I can afford to achieve that.

Hope is sometimes all we have. I hope ever single day I wake up and every single day I go to bed that today is the day I am smart enough to find a way to be a stay at home mom. In my own mind the option of this not ever happening is not a possibility. If it were, I would be mentally crushed.

Yesterday my husband and I were just talking and I made one of my random comments about "...someday when I'm home..." and he said "We need to make $XXX for you to stay home and I'm not going to do that on my own." I know he wasn't trying to be a jerk and I know he's probably right, but I just couldn't bear to hear him; I still cannot hear him. I'm not sure what I said back, but I do remember trying not to get upset, walking into the bathroom, wiping tears I didn't want, getting dressed and heading to the chaos of Easter.

For the record, I am fully aware that staying home with my kids really may never happen, I just don't want to cop to it. I just can't. If I woke up everyday knowing that I trade in a day raising my kids for the bullshit antics of a gossipy office, I would go freaking crazy. I really think I'd lose it.

I hoped I'd only be back to work for 1 year. Deep down, I knew it was probably going to be more like 3 years. As of today, I have now been here for 2 years, 194 days. I already see my third year coming and going. I know I'll still be here at that point. In order for me to keep moving forward, I have to set these markers for myself, 1 year, 2 years, 3 years because I need an end to this - or at very least the escape into La-La land where an end is even possible. Today, right now, I'm totally fine living in a self-promoted dreamscape.

My newest marker puts me out 2 years from the 2 year mark. I have to keep telling myself I'm going to find a way. I'm not ready to throw in the towel. The bigger my kids get, the more evident it becomes to me that they need me to guide them as much as I need the memories of doing so. I've made a paycheck while I've been here, but I've also lost my mind, become even more sleep deprived, known less about my kids and gained 3o lbs - which by the way I hate myself for.

I don't know if the price I've paid for this life is steeper than the paycheck I've earned. I have no idea if the conscious choice we make to continue living where we do is doing more harm than good. I'm this close to waving the white flag and trying out the other side that looks so green. Time will tell...

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