My husband has started his new job. He will be working from home and traveling to the Bay Area until we can move this summer. So on Monday, he got on a plane and headed off to his new job.
Later in the day we chatted about how things were going. We were texting actually, the modern version of a midday chat. He was happy. I think his exact words were, "Best work day in a long time." And I was happy for him. Really I was.
Well it's just...
okay, the truth is a little part of me resented his happiness. A little part of me resented that he had found a job, working with his friends, doing something that he really enjoyed. A little part of me resented that he had work he loved.
I would say that I resented that he was off in the grown up world of business lunches and meetings that actually challenged your mind except I don't really want to go off to work. I like my flannel pants and having time to keep up with Hoda and Kathie Lee on the Today Show. I just wish I was enjoying the job part of my days, the taking care of my kids part.
But honestly when my four year old is telling me he hates me and is going to kick me tomorrow (why tomorrow I will never understand) I am not really enjoying my job. When Middle Man misses the bus again because he can't seem to stay on track when I go off to take a shower, I don't really like my job. And when Hockey Boy falls apart at practice because I put the wrong shirt in his bag, I don't really like my job. And it is not because my kids are being pains in those moments. They are supposed to be difficult. That is their job as kids, at least some of the time. Some of the time they are supposed to assert their desires (demands in Little Ones world). Some of the time they are supposed to lose it because they are kids.
No the part I hate is my response.
My harsh words.
I hate the person I become in those moments.
I find that I am most reactive when I am not engaged in parenting, when I am not intentional about being a mom to my boys. I have been finding myself going through the motions a lot lately. Making the breakfast, doing the laundry, helping with the homework, but part of me is distracted. Distracted by a desire for more, a desire for something of my own. Distracted.
And that is the sad part. I really do want to be engaged. I really do want to be home with my kids. I don't have any desire to go out into the world and get a job. I want this job. I just don't really like all the work involved. I don't like the hard parts. But as I spent the last two years reminding my husband, "that's why they call it work."
So yes, I am happy for my husband. I just wish I felt the same way about my job.