New job

I have been looking for a job for awhile, and I finally got a job offer. I think I will like it. It's what I went to school for, and it seems like a good office to work in. The hours aren't too bad, and I am THANKFUL it's not retail again. I don't think I can go back to those crazy hours, the pressure, and also the politics in retail. Most people do not understand what being in management in a retail environment is like, but basically you are expected to give up your life and work your ass off for criticism. Of course not all jobs are as intense as my last one, and I enjoyed the fast paced chaos of the job, but not some of the people I had to deal with on a day to day basis.

Anyway, as I sit here in my last remaining days of being a SAHM, I am both sad and excited. Some days I long to feel like I am accomplishing more in my days then wiping noses and changing diapers. I am not good at the domestic stuff, I despise cleaning and most days I feel like why should I bother cleaning up the toys when I know the next days they will be scattered all over again.

I actually feel like a big failure when it comes to maintaining a household. I look around and see the finger prints on the walls, and dust bunnies under the furniture, and I think "I should be CLEANING." I look at my friend's houses and it seems they all are so good at the cleaning thing. They keep up with messes and their houses always look and smell nice. My house is a mess and smells like dog. I buy the plug in air freshners and before I know it they are empty. Those things are expensive! Jared gets so mad at me when I buy stuff like that. I know we could have used the money for gas money or diapers, but I hate smelling dog.

I let the dust get so thick you can write your memoirs in it on my tables. Dusting for me means 24 hours of red, itchy eyes, sneezing and problems with my asthma. I pay Jake to dust, but as with any 12 year old boy it's only a half assed job!

I can't remember the last time I washed my floors. I figure why should I because every time I do it rains and there's mud everywhere again. And frankly, I just don't care. I would rather sit with my kids and cuddle on the couch, or play with Laney and watch her learn new things. I would rather NAP.

I guess most of it stems from my Mom. She wasn't the best role model when it came to cleaning. Most of you who knew her understand what I mean. I would like to think I am not as bad. I am organized in my own way, I know where things are (unless it's anything mail related and then I have no idea because Jared is HORRIBLE with mail.) I like to think my house is organized chaos.

But now that I am going back to work I am worried about HOW I am going to do this. Obviously even though I hate to clean and I put it off as long as possible, I DO clean. But how am I going to work everyday, come home and spend time with my kids like I want to, get the stuff done around here, AND have time to sleep?

Part of me wishes it would be back in the 50s where women weren't expected to worry about who was raising their kids. I am lucky and their Grammy will watch them, but I worry about missing out on them when they are small. It goes SO fast. I feel like it was just yesterday when I met Jared, and now here I am 7 years later and we have THREE little ones together.

A big part of me knows I was made to be a mother. I was made to fix boo boos and give kisses and clap when my baby dances or shakes her bum to a commercial. I was made for football practices and driving kids to school and going on their field trips with them. My kids are MINE, and I want to be with them. I didn't have them so someone else could comfort them or kiss them good night. I honestly don't have a competitive career bone in my body. Unfortunately me working is necessary to pay the bills. Without my income we would be living in a box somewhere.

So to all my friends out there, I am sorry if you come over and there are tumbleweeds of cat hair in the corners. I'm sorry if there is mud on my kitchen floor or my toilet isn't sparkling. I'm sorry if I have piles of laundry and my bed isn't made (what a TOTAL waste of time). I'm sorry if there are dishes in the sink or cobwebs. I'm sorry if my windows are dirty and my car has french fries on the floor. But I honestly don't CARE. I don't want my kids growing up and thinking back to their childhood and thinking "all I remember Mom doing is cleaning all the time." I don't want our weekends spent scrubbing floors or me yelling their rooms aren't clean.

My brother and I had very messy rooms, and I think we turned out OK. We're not anal about cleaning, but we aren't hoarders either. I long decided if Jake and Quinn have messy rooms, I don't care. I am letting them be them. Obviously messy doesn't include trash or dirty dishes, or dirty sheets or filth. But if there are toys everywhere and Jake's video games all over his dresser, I don't care. That's HIS space. They do their chores around the house, I am teaching them responsibility. Eventually they will mature enough to look around and LIKE how a clean room makes them feel. For now I am happy with them being kids, and I just wish I was still a kid.