I’m in a funk.
A no good, listless, directionless funk.
I’m really craving going back to work but am feeling guilty and selfish for wanting to do so.
Being with a toddler all day for the last 17 months has made my brain turn to mush. My once impressive vocabulary has now turned into me struggling to think of words. It’s like the light is on, but theres no one home.
When I think of actually going back to work, I used to have such a clear picture in my head of what that would look like. I’d be standing in the front of a classroom of First Graders in dark wash denim trousers, a polkadot button up blouse and a mustard cardigan. I was smiling and nodding my head, listening to a group of well behaved 6 and 7 year olds answer questions enthusiastically. At the end of the day, they would rush to their wall cubbies, grab their jackets and character lunch boxes, and rush to give me hugs before they make their way to the auditorium to line up for their busses.
My future was vivid. If I tried hard enough, I could almost reach out and feel the chalkboard behind me and smell that weird school carpet odor.
However, that direction and that goal don’t excite me in the way they used to, and it’s kind of scary.
If you don’t count my ballerina / pediatrician / garbage woman / veterinarian dreams of my very very very early youth, I’ve wanted to be a teacher for as long as I can remember. I wanted to help shape the minds of the future. I wanted to give kids what my amazing elementary school teachers gave me – confidence, safety and a zest for learning every new possible thing I could.
And I used to want to do that for other kids.
Now when I think of returning to work, there’s just this giant black space
When I see my husband leave for work, there’s a little twinge of jealousy. A little piece of me wishes that I was able to do that, to get out of the house every day, interact with other human adults, problem solve and think critically over more than a laundry and meal plan.
I love being H’s mom, I love that I’ve gotten to stay home with him and watch all of his Firsts. I love that I get to wake him up every morning and put him down for bed every night. I love that I’m there to soothe him after he crashes and burns, and I’m there to give him high fives and applause when he does something awesome.
I honestly can’t imagine not being the one who has been home with him for the last 17 months. I feel lucky that we’ve been able to budget enough for me to do so.
Honestly, I don’t even think it’s really work that I want. I just want something that’s mine. Something outside of ‘just being a mom’ (as I’m often reminded of).
I need something
. But what? I’m not sure.
Is this some quarter (+1) life crisis that I wasn’t aware of?
Because I’m pretty ready for this funk to be over.
Are you a stay at home mom? Do you ever get jealous that you’re not the one who goes to work?
Are you a working mom? Do you ever wish you could stay home more?
How do you get yourself out of a funk when you’re feeling ‘off’?