Face-time vs. Face-time with sticky toddler kissies....

Every mother's dilemma.... to work or not to work. When my boys were little, and I mean, really little, I was home with them, and my x in his infinite wisdom thought I should babysit other small children to supplement our sad income. Confession: I did not enjoy this. I especially did not like cleaning other kids poop. My own kids- fine- no problem. Other people's kids- GROSS.
 That is how I feel about that. No I don't want to change your kids diaper. Maybe this is why I feel guilty about leaving my kids in other folks care. Back to the story though...

When the x and I entered splitsville it became necessary for me to go back to work, because, well basically he cut me off, and in hindsight I don't blame him. I didn't want to go, but childcare was obtained and a job was found and off I went. It was probably the best thing to ever happen to me. I met amazing people who are now some of my best friends. I felt useful and intelligent and productive. I kicked butt at what I did and felt almost irreplaceable.... and then... poof... the doctor says you're having twins. Well damn. Childcare is insanely expensive, as it should be I suppose, now that I am looking at it through the eyes of a SAHM. The ratio of the cost of childcare vs. my salary did not compute. As a matter fact it would have sent us almost into the negative. There was no point. So, I sadly resigned my position with the most amazing supervisor that anyone could ever have and turned in my keys (and kept my badge cuz it was the best picture of me ever) and walked away when the twins were born. I was replaced. Life moved on. 

I have spent the last two plus years loving and kissing and hugging on my lovelies. I am hardly away from them. Every moment they are awake, I am the one caring for them. I am the one controlling their environment, what they eat, what they see, how they are cared for. I am also the only one changing diapers, disciplining, kissing booboos, cleaning up the spills, the messes, the crayon on the floor, dealing with the tantrums and the sibling tiffs. I'm feeling a little... road rashed.

I suppose at this point, you're wondering what the point is here besides just random rambling. I got a phone call this morning. There's a position available with the agency I used to work for. Same type of position I had, same pay, different department, different supervisor. My name is apparently being bandied about. It is suggested I send in an application.

Immediately I thought... oh, no way. If I can't have my old position back with my old awesome boss then no. And then I drank more coffee, and I started to over-analyze, and I started to get anxious, and obsess. It's not like I spent years getting an education for some high-paying power type job. This is admin stuff. I like it, I don't love it, and I'm certainly not certain I would like this particular position in this particular dept. There would definitely be more face time and less hiding away in my own office with the door shut. We all know I'm not a people person, right? It's a Monday thru Friday gig with holidays off, sick time, vacation time, and even health insurance. These are all good things.

Let's talk dollar signs. Sgt Dad is still away and will be for a few more months, and when he comes back there is no guaranteed employment for him besides his weekend commitments to Uncle Sam which pay for crap btw, in case you were wondering about that. So not worth the headaches that Uncle Sam's self-importance brings. And we've already concluded that this potential admin job pays for crap. So is it worth it?

And now let's talk about change. Change is scary, insanely scary to me. Change my routine, change my schedule. Hell, having a schedule. All frightening. Like nail-biting, anxiety-attack inducing scary. Don't raise your eyebrow at me. That is how it feels... to me.

Then there's all the crap I do at home already... subtract the amount of time I have to do it,  add in a 40 hour work week, and subtract the husband who isn't here.... well basically... I just don't know if I'm capable of it all and yes, before you accuse me of being lazy, I openly admit... no, no, no... I openly flaunt the fact that I am indeed lazy. I mean, after all, Martha Stewart doesn't live here, right? And neither does June Cleaver for that matter. I'm more of a Frankie Heck....

'The Middle's' Frankie Heck...

.... Although she does have a job and she even tries to join the PTA and stuff... which I won't. Don't ask me to sign up for your Fall Festival stuff... not doing it... even if I am a SAHM.

All of this leaves me right back where I was... I want to work, and I want stay home and I can't freakin decide and now I feel like this is the only opportunity I might get without serious pavement pounding because I lack a serious formal education and a fancy degree. What's a middle-aged broad like me supposed to do.....

I didn't even discuss feelings of inadequacy as a mom... or inadequacy as a productive member of society...

In cases of extreme indecision such as this...

Wine is the only viable option... at least for tonight.....