Today I am home with the kiddo, her tummy is upset and she didn’t get a whole lot of sleep. I picked her up from school yesterday, before she even got her jacket on she started complaining of her tummy hurting. I didn’t think too much of it, “my tummy hurts” has become the most recent excuse to avoid trying something new at dinner.
Halfway home, her banter about how her day went cut off and a meek “I have to go to the bathroom” came out of the backseat. “Honey, we’re about 2 minutes from home, you’ll have to hold it.” “Okay” she said and the rest of the car ride was quiet.
We pulled into my driveway, and she opened her door right away. As soon as she had two feet on the ground she bent over and threw up. My mouth just dropped. “See mom, that’s why I had to go to the bathroom.” Pretty talented if you ask me, when I have to puke, I can’t hold it for 4 blocks.
So we got inside, with me hoping she just ate too much at snack time and she made it 2 minutes before she puked again. She puked on and off all night and didn’t sleep too well when she did manage to sleep. I got up with my alarm this morning at 4:45, checked on her and let my boss know that I couldn’t come in today.
I’m sitting on the couch, with a half asleep child laying next to me. PBSkids on the tv and Noodle barely paying attention unless I go to change the channel at which she bolts awake and tells me “Mom! I’m watching that!”
She’s feeling a bit better this morning, the puking has stopped for the most part and she ate some dry cereal. She’s just out of it and wants to relax. Which is fine with me, we’ve been relaxing on the couch together and I’ve been getting some of the laundry done. We’re going to try something light for lunch in a little bit. Hopefully that goes well.
This last week has been rough on me for a multitude of reasons. I haven’t been feeling well to top everything off, which just makes for a cranky me in general. So each day, on my way to work I think about how everything has turned out. I’m happy I suppose, but the grass is always greener.
– Regardless of my feelings now or anything else, I am glad I divorced A’s dad. He wasn’t good for me, and I’m not so sure about for A either. I am glad I took that step and I will never regret the action to have a safer, happier life.-
Life is stable over here finally. Both Ryan and I have good jobs with steady paychecks, he likes his job which makes getting him up in the morning that much easier. Noodle has a school in which she (and I) love, she has wonderful teachers and is thriving.
It just bugs me. Up until a few months before my divorce, I was a stay at home mom. In my family (this does not pertain to you, it’s not meant to offend you) it was important to me to be able to stay home with my kid(s). I could have never predicted that my marriage would turn out the way it would and I’m lucky I’ve been employed since then, but shit. I finally have a job with normal hours (I’ve been there for 2 years next month) so that makes life a little easier, but I’d still rather be at home and taking care of my kid. I never thought I’d end up in the work force full-time, I always assumed that until A was out of the house, I’d be a part-timer so I could focus on her and our home.
So post-divorce I’m a working mother. It’s just aggravating and I can feel my knuckles go white on that drive into the office. It’s hard especially when shit at the office has been annoying me. So I’m driving in to a job that makes me want to lobotomize myself, because of which my daughter goes to school 2 hours early and stays 1 hour late (6:30ish to 4:30ish) (which I realize isn’t as bad as it was before my schedule change but still). I drive in to a job that I automatically lose 1/3 of my pay to the extra hours at daycare (the ex was ordered to pay half of school/daycare costs and child support, but that hasn’t happened since I was divorced in ’09). I drive into a job that I normally like, where I make decent pay (despite A’s school fees) but because of it, dinner becomes a chore, daycare spends more time with my kid than I do, and weekends are so jammed up with shit from during the week that there isn’t a whole lot of time for fun.
The topic has come up with Ryan that once he gets his raise in a couple months, that I can stay home. Trust me on this one, there has been numerous times this past week that that seemed like a great idea. It’s hard to think it’s not. However, the grass is always greener. Even if Ryan makes enough for a comfortable living, we’d still lose the money that my job brings in to supplement and save. I wouldn’t have money for the extra things for the kids and wouldn’t be able to put money in our “going-on-vacation-finally” fund or “get-the-hell-out-of-my-house-kids!” fund. Two things that I definitely like putting money in. Plus with this economy, I don’t think I could walk away from a job I (mostly) like that is pretty damned stable, and rely solely on one income again. You never know what could happen, and I know I’d regret leaving my job if Ryan ever lost his.
The grass is always greener, I’ll just keep repeating that. In the meantime I’m off to get the kid in the bath and find something for lunch.