Don’t get me wrong, I’m so incredibly proud and happy to be a nurse. It’s truly everything I’ve ever wanted and a without sounding too cliche, a dream come true. My schedule’s just about perfect. I work 64 hours every two weeks, so that leaves me with a couple days off to spend with my little girl each week. Keep in mind though, that as a healthcare worker I end up working every other weekend. You win some and you lose some, I guess!
However, as a working mom, my job is still literally never done. As soon as I get home, it’s time to make dinner and throw in some laundry or do whatever else needs to get done. It’s just plain exhausting.
And on my days off? They’re not really days off. They’re more like “catch-up on all the laundry, buckle down and do some wedding planning, and go grocery shopping for the first time in who knows how long” kind of days.
Not only am I exhausted by the time I get home, I’m also all out of patience. I work on a memory care unit and while I absolutely love the residents I work with, a lot of my day is spent redirecting behaviors. It’s not fair to Alea, at all, but by the time I get home I have very little patience left for her. If she’s in a not so good mood, I just don’t have it left in me to deal with it and it usually ends in tears… for both of us.
I know this is the life I chose for myself and financial stability is really quite wonderful, but sometimes I’m envious of the life I lived before becoming a working mom. I’m not writing this to say that a stay-at-home-mom doesn’t work her butt off– trust me, I’ve been there, I know it’s not easy. At least I have 30 minutes of uninterrupted lunch guaranteed to me everyday. A stay-at-home-mom’s lucky to get the scraps leftover from a peanut butter and jelly. (AmIRight?) But being a working mom with a couple days off a week, I just feel like I’m spreading myself pretty thin. That’s all.