I've always been so careful not to write about work. It's really not that interesting to anyone who may read this blog. But work invariably bleeds into my "real" life, of which I write about a lot. Recently, I've hit a wall at work. I've had enough. I find myself driving to work with a sinking feeling in my gut and thinking "What the hell am I doing?".
It's not the job, really. I actually enjoy what I do, and I like to think I'm pretty good at it. It's the fact that my job has become almost all consuming lately. The more pressure, the more stress I feel at work, the more resentful I become about having to go there in the first place.
This morning, I had to rush getting Alex and me out the door because I had a conference call at 8:00. Feeling rushed I was irritable and didn't give Alex or Midnight the cuddles they both really needed in the morning. I basically threw clothes on Alex, threw a pain pill at Midnight, and put Alex in the car with a bottle and raced out the door to drop him off at my mother's. I then found myself stuck in a traffic jam getting on the freeway and ended up calling into my conference call from my car on my cell phone. I waited on the conference bridge line for 10 minutes and no one else called in. I rechecked my calendar on my phone, yep. 8:00. It was now 8:15. "F*** it!" I yelled and threw my phone on the passenger seat. I rushed my morning, didn't cuddle with my dying dog or baby boy so I could call in on time to a conference call that apparently had been canceled without my knowledge!
It's days like this that I can't help but laugh at my original ideas about what my life would look like after I became a mother. When I found myself pregnant, I had all these great ideas of how I'd be wildly successful in my career and still be an attentive mother, a loving wife and have a sparkling clean house. My child would never sit wide eyed in front of cartoons on TV, I'd breastfeed for at least one year, I'd make homemade baby food, my child would never ingest preservatives or excess sugar. I even contemplated using cloth diapers. Really. I was so idealistic. My head was full of butterflies and swinging the baby at the park and playgroups with no vomit stains on my shirts or cheerios stuck in my hair.
In reality, my life looks more like a tornado. My house is always a mess, I eat out WAY more than I should because I rarely get a spare second to sit down with a bowl of cereal at home. Every piece of clothing I own has some kind of baby related stain on it. Alex eats Gerber and is now on formula full time. Last night, he ate part of a churro. Talk about excess sugar! I'm a Baby Gym drop out, and Alex has been known to watch multiple episodes of Caillou in one day. Cloth diapers? HA! I have a stack of never used cloth diapers in the bottom drawer of Alex's changing table.
I'm somehow expected to be a great mom, a great wife and a great employee. In reality, I'm sucking at all three jobs. Something's got to give, and I am NOT WILLING to let my family be it.
I've already spoken with my boss about cutting my hours at work significantly. I haven't gotten official word, but rumor has it they'll be able to work something out for me. But I'm officially at the point where I am ready to say "Screw you guys, I'm going home" if I can't get a part time schedule. My job description is full time, and I would absolutely understand if they can't cut me to part time, but I need to put much more focus on my home life. I need to be with Alex more than I'm with my coworkers. I need to put more of my energy into something that actually matters, because despite what our Project Manager says, despite what the steering committee says, despite how the company's mucky mucks feel, Alex Dillier is infinitely more important that any stupid software rewrite.
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