My Job

While sitting at the table supervising homework tonight, I looked over to the living room area and saw my vacuum cleaner sitting where I had abandoned it around two o'clock this afternoon. I reflected on all the housework I'd gotten done that morning, how much more I still had to do, and how I would have to figure out how to squeeze the rest of the cleaning in tomorrow.  The image of that vacuum cleaner, surrounded by various piles of clutter waiting to be put away, appeared to be frozen in time.  It was quite poetic really.  Here I was, sitting at the table doing my "job" while looking over at the other "job" I had had to leave undone.  What is my job?  

Although I know what my job is, the description of it has been fuzzy to the outside world.  Well, actually, even I get confused sometimes.  If one stays at home all day then shouldn't the house be sparkly, the laundry laundered, the errands completed in record time?  After all, there's no traffic at ten in the morning.  Yeah, whatever.  I often feel guilty for being at home during the day with this flexible schedule of mine.  But back to my point.  I have to remind myself that my job is the care and nurture of my children.  We non-union workers have to get a lot accomplished in a day, and I had to come to terms with the to-do list.  I decided when my babies were little that if I did nothing all day except love and hold and feed and play with my girls then it was a successful work day.  Now that they are in school, I do have to cram a lot in before 2 p.m.  But I find that there has to be some "break" time in there too.  Once those sweeties walk through the door, my job begins.  I essentially work from 2:00 p.m. until 8:00 a.m.  Okay, yes, I sleep, but if there's a bathroom emergency, a vomit episode or a really scary dream, I'm still on call.  And there really isn't any break time.  Have you ever tried to sit down and read a book when your kids are around?  *pause for laughter* Dude, I can't even use the loo without some important question coming through the door, and that's only if I remember to shut (and lock) the door.

I do have a fabulous co-worker who fills in for the extra pair of hands needed in the evenings. Somehow though, even with his wonderfulness, there is still stress on the job.  I guess that's just the way this job goes.  Even with the help, I seem to carry around some nagging in the pit of my stomach reminding me about all I didn't get done.  It causes me to be a tad grumpy sometimes because I can't work both my jobs at once.  At least not successfully.  You would think I had learned something about this in the classroom.  When my students arrived at 8:00 a.m. they were my responsibility all the way until 2:30 p.m. when they went home.  I never tried to clean desks or grade papers or run to the copy machine to get tomorrow's lesson ready while my students where present.  How preposterous.  Why do I keep thinking I can do that now?

If you've read this far, thanks for indulging me.  Sometimes I need to remind myself to chuck the guilt.  My sweet aunt told me years ago not to sweat the messes.  She said some day those messes won't be there anymore, and I'll be sad.  She's right, of course.  If I ever get this balance right, I'll be sure and share the secret.

Okay, back to work.