I had another post planned for today, but there is an ache in my heart that I have to blog about. I have to write about it, because writing is a stress reliever for me and I know there has to be somebody else out there that feels similar. Somebody who needs to hear that it is ok to feel this way.
It was yesterday afternoon, I was home for my dinner break. I work an evening shift at our library and have for the past 4 years. This means I'm "supposed" to eat from 3:45-4:45. You can imagine how much this messes with my metabolism when I get home at 9:30 starving, knowing good and well I should not be eating that late at night.
But that's not what I want to talk about.
I want to talk about what happened. I came home, planning to make waffles. The Big Dawg had everything out ready to go. By the time they were ready, I was pumping (yes I eat and pump and sometimes even feed Little Monkey, feed myself, and pump; all at the same time... I am an insane multitasker!) and Little Monkey began to cry.
Heres the heartbreak:
I felt frustrated with him. With this little bundle of joy who I love so deeply it hurts. I felt frustrated. Why couldn't he see I was doing everything imaginable for him. I work for him. I work for his dad. I cook for our family. I exercise with him to be healthy for him. There I was pumping my boobies sore for him to have the best bottle ever. I do all of these things for him. All of it.
Nothing else matters to me.
I yelled for The Big Dawg to come help, he scooped him up and took him to the nursery for a diaper change. That's when I broke. I felt myself tear into tiny pieces.
You see, he's the one who gets to spend all day with our angel. He's the one who gets drooly smiles in the kitchen and snuggles after he wakes from a nap. He does. Not me.
I stopped pumping (yay for 5 oz!), took my sweet boy from his dad and walked him outside. I held him close, whispered sweet things in his ear and cried.
I cried for all the women who have to work to provide for their families. I had a big fat huge pity party on our deck. And guess what? I had to dry up my tears quickly, because I had to head back into work.
So I set my sweet boy down in his chair and walked away with a broken heart.
I think women are mean to each other. I think women judge each other harshly, unwarranted judgement. Those who have the ability to stay at home are judged by the working women for wasting their degrees and not doing more with their lives. And those women who work are judged by the women at home who feel like they are bad mothers for working and not giving their all to their families. It's a terrible cycle to get into, but it's happening and we all know it.
Let me be clear.
I work to provide. Many women have to work, it's a necessity. Especially in this economy! The Big Dawg does not have a job, he has not had full time employment since he started school. Yes, yes, I know we could take out student loans, get on some government programs and then I could stay home. We weren't willing to do that. We made the choice to be debt free, And besides, I wanted to work until we had a family. Did I know that was going to take 3 years?! Of course not. I didn't see the point in being at home if I wasn't taking care of a child.
So for now, I will continue to provide what is needed for our little family. Because I am a strong, independent woman. I can do anything I set my mind to, anything. And if somebody wants to show me that is a bad thing, please feel free to let me know instead of making silent judgements.
But you better believe, tonight, when the work clothes come off and I step into my pjs. I'll turn momma and wife mode on, then I'll have myself a good, long cry. I've been strong for a long time, for such a long time, and for once I deserve that good, long cry.