Working Outside the Home

I work outside the home one day a week. It’s not much and that’s just how I like it. Keep in mind I also work from home (different job) about 10 -20 hours a week. For awhile, I was working outside the home 2 days a week, the days my husband has off, but it sucked because we never had any time to be together as a family. That’s when Family Sundays began.

Today, I get to work at a beautiful museum and be surrounded by art. I enjoy being away from home because it makes coming home so sweet. It’s also the only day of the week that I don’t feel “on” 24 hours. So even though I’m at work, I feel like I have the day “off”.

In the beginning, before I went back to my job outside the home, it was so hard to explain to my husband what it feels like to be the primary child care giver. I wanted him to understand that there is no downtime. Yeah, yeah, I know they say nap when the baby naps and it sounds great to stay home, but it’s not restful at all. And no, it’s not a competition, but there is just no way he was more tired.

To begin with, if you gave birth, you’ve just gone through one of the most demanding physical experiences ever. Childbirth is often equated with running a marathon, except I don’t know anyone who runs a marathon with their vagina, so I would venture to say it’s worse-much worse. Usually, after such a harrowing experience you would be rewarded with rest and lots of it. No such luck when you are a mother.

I used to wait for my husband to come home, so I could have a break. He would get frustrated because he wanted time to settle in and get food. In retrospect, I guess I was a bit harsh because I would say no and when he asked how he was supposed to eat and take care of the baby, I would say, “Figure it out! I had to.” It sounds terrible, but he doesn’t get home until 9:00 pm and I was so exhausted that I had precious few moments to do things like bathe or change my clothes before collapsing. Fortunately, things get better after three months.

We would argue because my husband would say that when he was out of the house he was working, not enjoying himself. My response was that during his day he would have at least 10 minutes when he wasn’t thinking of his daughter or what she needed, if he wanted to take a nap at lunch by himself -he could, if he had to go to the bathroom-no one would start crying. I don’t think he really understood until he had to take care of Put Pie when I went to work.

Put Pie is now 7 months old and taking care of her has gotten to be much easier and very rewarding because she smiles and is just thrilled by our company, but I still treasure the one day a week that I get to be just “me” for 8 hours.