Sometimes I truly wonder how I manage to keep myself sane….
I work 25 miles away from home. Getting up at a very early 5:30 a.m., I have to be out of the house, kids in tow, by 6a.m. From there I take them to daycare, and must make it to work by 7a.m.
This, my friends, is not always an easy task. Between traffic sucking on normal days because our highways haven’t been expanded in forever, and the fact that Oregonians are unable to drive like normal human beings, making it to work on time is hard.
So I start my shift at 7a.m. and get off at 4p.m. By that time, Justin is already off and on his way to get the kids, bless his heart. So when I finally get out of the crap hole that is traffic once again, everyone is home and, of course, hungry. Now, I can generally make it home in about 3o minutes (45 if it’s raining).
How is it that everyone can be hungry at 4:30p.m.??
Whatever.
So dinner is done around 5:30p.m. or 6p.m., depending on what we are having. Most of what Konnor and Justin will eat is fairly easy to make, since they are both extremely picky eaters. Ariana expects nothing more than some fruits, veggies, and a bottle to wash it all down.
Easy peasy?
Whelp, by the time that is said and done, Ariana needs a bath and Konnor wants one too. Luckily, Ariana is to the point where she can sit up and enjoy a bath with her brother. They splash and giggle and play until Ariana can’t take anymore.
Time for jammies.
Then about a half an hour to play before they have to get to bed.
Honestly, I take my kids to daycare five days a week. Because we couldn’t survive without my paycheck, I have to pay someone else to raise my children.
Don’t get me wrong, I adore the woman who watches my kids. She is great with them. As a matter of fact, she is the same woman who watched me and my siblings when we were younger. More than a babysitter, she has become a part of the family.
Regardless, it shouldn’t be her raising my children. It should be their mommy. Me.
Justin works. He brings home a paycheck. However, the fact of the matter is that his paycheck alone wouldn’t pay the bills. We could cut back some, but that still wouldn’t suffice.
So I am stuck. Watching my children grow up. It seems, almost, from a distance. I make the most of my weekends with them, and I really try not to go out without them (well except to the store, but duh!). Everyday that I drop them off, I regret it. As I drive to work, I wish I could just turn around.
Having to work when you have kids is so unfair. It sucks. With this economy, though, I have no choice. So I push on, in hopes that one day I will find the perfect job that allows me to work from home. Or that my job will finally offer employees to work from home.











