A Working Mom?

Every time I'm looking at kiddo it hits me: I do not want to go back to work. I hate going to the movies because it's too long away from him so how can I deal with an 8 hour workday?

Don't get me wrong. I like adult time. I do. I like going on nightly walks with my husband without kiddo, but those are close and short.

To make matters worse, I feel the pinch.

On the one hand, I don't have to worry about food or rent because I'm living with my parents. On the other hand, I'm living with my parents. We're in a small room - all three of us. We have to negotiate chores etc with my parents and my brother who is also at home (which has been a little rocky). As much as my parents want us to feel at home, it is impossible at this point.

I can't feel at home when I don't have all my stuff organized. This is the same reason I didn't feel at home in our loft. It took us forever to do anything with our junk. By the time we had, we were preparing to leave.

Another reason I don't feel at home is because everything is done the way my mother does things, not the way I do things. While there is overlap in the way we each approach life and cooking utensils, there is also difference.

I feel like I'm playing at being an adult more than living my adulthood.

In addition, the part time job Christian got is paying him even less hourly than what he was making in the Bay (keep in mind we have a lot fewer expenses here however). This is nervous making because we wanted to be able to at least pay down a little of our debt while we figured out our next step. As it is, I'm not sure how much debt we'll be able to pay and we don't have many more months of deferment or forbearance left.

Every time I think about bills my stomach ties up in knots. Every manifest destiny law of attraction manifesto says to think good thoughts but that's pretty difficult to do when I feel so on edge. I feel like an imposition - a burden. I wanted to be the one to take care of others, not the other way around.

And it sucks even worse because I feel like a failure. My books are doing better, but I'm not rolling in it. I was one of those people who was always told I'd do great things. In my mind I equated great things to fame and fortune and I'd do them before facial wrinkles and gray hair. I have neither fame nor fortune, but I do have a few stray grays.

So...what do I do?

I feel pressure to apply to jobs but I can barely get my daily writing goal done while taking care of kiddo. I don't think I can write, work, and be a mom. I thought I could, but I can't. I definitely can't do all that and work out. And I need to work out to be sane. I need to lose this extra baby weight to feel like I have some iota of control in my life.

My dad, smart man that he is, says just to apply to jobs and then if I get an interview or whatever, I can deal with that then. The problem is finding and applying to jobs takes time. Then interviews require someone to care for kiddo. And I have to find something professional to wear that fits me (and buying clothes at this point seems utterly ridiculous as I'm working on losing weight and getting fit). And of course working requires childcare as well...and a wardrobe.

This is not a simple task.

But I want my independence back.

I suppose the key here is to figure out a route to happiness that includes all these things. I'm going to ponder some more. I'm going to work on some things with Christian. I'm going to work on some things with my dad. I'm going to try to relax and enjoy my darling baby. I'm going to pray.