At least this is how I feel most days. Especially since coming home with our daughter. Allow me to explain.
I started working when I was 14 and I loved it. I am a hard worker naturally. I think I get this trait from my dad. Every job I had from my early 20's on I went into management quickly. Before you stop reading because you think this is a boast post, its not. Here's the thing, I am not sure when I started to hate working. Even now, I sit wracking my brain trying to pin point it. I remember a time in England when it was more fun to get high than to constantly hit the snooze button after a late night. That might be it. I remember thinking if I had a kid I wouldn't have to work. See, the socialist economy over there permits all single mom's houses and pretty good benefits.
But I think at the end of the day the reason I hated it is because I had no purpose at any of those jobs. They were all just a means to an end. I've never had a career and have never wanted one. There wasn't one thing I wanted to do with my life. Well, I remember saying I wanted to be a wife and mom but the only reason I think I said that was because it sounded easier than trying to get a degree (I am the worst student).
So, here I am. A mom and a wife. This job really is harder than any job I have ever had in my life. I rarely get time off, there is no pay, no sick days, minimal appreciation (this is especially true since we had a 2 year old move in), the cleaning, laundry and questions never stop. I wish I had a dime for every time I swept the floor, I would be a millionaire. And yet this job has THE most purpose. I am loved by those kids. I am wanted by my husband. I get to be a part of who those kids will become. However, if it goes south with any one of them I'll blame B. ;0)
So how come I feel like this? The guilt is sometimes overwhelming that I am just not doing enough.
The house is always clean (and not obsessively for those who know me), laundry done, dinner planned and made, family times shared, I mean I homeschool for crying out loud.
And yet this internal struggle of guilt when I have a day of vegging. It is awful.
I have friends who are moms and who work. They have kids younger than mine and they punch a clock day in and day out and it works for them. Some do it because they have to, others because they want to. Some do it so that they won't kill their kids or themselves.
As my kids started getting older I started to panic and went and got a job because I thought that was what you are supposed to do plus I felt the financial pinch. It was awful but I made the most of it, did well and was promoted. For the past 21/2 almost 3 years I have been home again full time. I'll pick up odd jobs here and there but whenever there is talk of me getting a job again the answer is a resounding "NO!!" from all parties with an opinion. Maybe this is cultural. I don't think most women stay home any more with their kids but for us, our family just doesn't flow well when I work outside of the home. And plus I HATE IT!!!!! And so this is how I feel. Just like I do with God, its just never enough. Oh, how to break this hold on me.