One Step at a Time

It's been a week and a half since the movers delivered our life-in-a-truck. Time since then has been consumed with opening boxes. Sometimes we find long-forgotten treasures, or desired objects in unexpected places. Other times we find trash, or items due for unshopping.

Our house is starting to feel a sense of order, but there are still so many things to do:

• AD finished the taxes yesterday and we happily will be receiving a refund.
• Today, we successfully hosted a family birthday party for the Painter.
• The plumber came yesterday to run a gas line to the dryer, and we have almost scaled the mountain of laundry that had grown since our arrival.
• My computer was shipped back to my former employer, but I still need to send my badge and office key.
• The health of our momma cat is up and down, and we may need to take her to the vet again in the next few days.
• Received new cat ID tags in the mail, but still need to mail the applications for city licenses.
• Need a never-ending list of miscellaneous items - bath tub stopper, litter scoop, dish drainer, recycling bags, kitchen pantry, bedroom curtains, bathroom shelf, ...
• Still need to enroll the Painter in kindergarten for the remainder of the year. (I don't feel up to the task of home schooling right now.)
• New car tags and drivers licenses
• Make sure friends and family all have our new address and phone number - maybe even write some letters.

So many things leaves chaos in my mind. In the midst of it, I am easily frustrated with the boys. "Just let me finish this one thing ..." which of course isn't just one thing but fifty.

But what's important? Did we come here to set up a household? Well, yes, but that's not why we came.

Tomorrow I will try to remember to breathe, attend to the boys, and step through the list one foot at a time.

Leaping

I still worry, but that doesn't mean I need to change my mind. Worry, too, is part of me.

We have made our decision. We are making our arrangements. Two adults, three boys, three cats, two vehicles, and a truckload of stuff will be moving soon to Wisconsin, an hour from my parents, and hour from my brother, an hour from my grandmother, aunts and uncles, two hours from the other grandparents, aunt, uncle, and cousins, to the land of much snow this winter and affordable housing, to a community we don't know, but will become a part of, and a place we will call home for several years.

In the end, it is a practical decision. We find two things in our new home that we can't get here: affordable housing and proximity to family. There is one thing here that we can't get there: my job. I can always get another job.

We bring our hearts and our love with us.

Freedom

Even though I don't claim the moniker "control freak" nor even pass as one most of the time, I do like to feel in control of major life decisions. Rolling down the hill inside a hamster ball put me out of sorts, until my loving AD explained that I was really on skis, and could stop any time I like, even climb back up the hill with a bit of effort.

That is, he told me (paraphrased) "If you want to go back to work, go back to work. So, we have a house [halfway across the country]. It will be ready for us when we are ready to go. If you want to work part-time, work part-time. If you want to go back for a while to see if it will work, go back for a while." If this version of the future doesn't work for you, try on another one.

Oh. Freedom. I am still free. I can stop the ball, or the skis. I can return to my job either full or part-time. I can try to pick up contract work. I can try to pick up other kinds of work. We can stay here another couple months while I decide. We can go right away, and live off savings, and I can spend my days with my boys and exploring how I'd like to live the rest of my life. Oh. I get it.

Remind me, now, what was I afraid of?

Identity

Perhaps I fear becoming the woman that this woman finds revolting.

On the one hand, I want to be "mom" to my boys; I want to be involved at their schools, help them with homework and projects and crafts, to read to them and take them on adventures to explore the neighborhood, or the beach, or the museum. I also crave connection with other moms; I want to sit & have coffee with friends while our kids play in the park, to compare joys and headaches, to trade babysitting and parenting tips. I want to not feel so alone.

Of course, I am mom, whether I have paid employment or not. And there always seems to be time for diaper changes and laundry and dishes. But finding time for living my ideal version of motherhood is difficult to fit in with a full time job outside the house.

Then there's the other hand. What if staying at home with the boys falls far short (as it surely will) of my high expectations? Then who and what would I be? The answer is, of course, below - but apparently I have been away from my thoughts (or my paint) for too long.

Dissembling

I could go back to work, throw myself into it, try to make changes that would make me happier in my career, all the while feeling like I am spending too much time away from my beautiful boys, wishing I had time to spend on hobbies and crafts, wishing I had a support network nearby, wishing I had time to meet other mothers of young children, to build a community.

Or I could quit my job and still not have time for hobbies, but the possibilities seem endless if I am not spending 40 hours per week on paid employment. I'm sure I could find some way to make some money if I need to. I can certainly find some time to connect with other moms - after all, I have to do something with the boys if I will be watching them all day. And I'm sure I can find other ways to feel useful, competent, and appreciated.

Would I really throw myself into my work and make changes to my career path while I am worrying about the babes at home? What would I do if I didn't need the money?

The choice seems apparent - leave. But for some reason I still cling to my job. Being an engineer, a "rocket scientist" is wrapped up in my identity, and it is very hard to let it go. Instead, I continue to remind myself that quitting this job doesn't mean quitting my career, even if I take a few years off. And even if I never return to paid employment as an engineer, no one can take that part of my identity away from me. When I am ready to shed it, I will.

Taste of the Future

I experimented with working from home today. I have been telecommuting two days a week for more than a month, but usually work from AD's office, while D watches the boys at home. Now that D is gone, I thought I would try working from home so that AD could also get some grading done ... and so that I don't have to lug this anvil of a computer up the stairs at the office.

The verdict is ... (as many of you probably already know) that it is very difficult to concentrate for any span of time on work while also watching the boys.

Today wasn't an ordinary day, as we had the Inventor's three year check-up this morning, but still, I am reminded of the difficulties. Whereas it doesn't take a lot of mental energy to fold the laundry while the boys are playing, and that and similar tasks are easy to pause and return to later, trying to figure out what it is I am supposed to be doing, concentrating on an analysis, or even thinking through a response to an email is much more difficult with the constant buzz and interruptions of life and children. (They are currently happily occupied, playing with geo-mag's, but I am sure that the minute I try to concentrate, the calm will turn to chaos.)

But today was a good trial for me in another way. I found myself tidying up this morning (nesting perhaps), and thinking that I would rather do that than my work.

That's right. Right now cleaning the house (and setting a nice centerpiece on the table) is more interesting to me than work.


I guess I'm moving in the right direction.

Ready or not ...

... change is happening.

What's happening?

For more on the details, check out AD's post.

What else?

I had at first thought my OB was being over-cautious, when suggesting I take off work at week 30 or 32. Now I understand her advice. The last few days, back pain has left me uncomfortable while I am sitting, and nearly crippled when I get up. Probably just the effects of too much exertion coupled with too much sitting in the car over the weekend, but it makes me glad I will soon be able to avoid the commuting, walking, chair-sitting, and stress that are by-products of my job.

Last but not least ...

Although a corner of my mind remains unwilling to admit that the 20th will be my last day of work, not just for 4 months, but for quite a while beyond, we have started admitting our plans to our family.

Come about April, we will move to the land adjacent to the south-west corner of Lake Michigan, although the exact location has yet to be determined. For obvious reasons, AD's mom, who lives near Boston was visibly upset by this news, while my parents, who live near Chicago, were delighted to hear it (even when we inadvertently may have given them the impression we expect on-call gratis baby-sitting services from them on a regular basis).

The two primary factors in moving to that part of the country as opposed to another are the cost of living, and, more importantly, family density. In addition to my parents, we will be within a few hours drive of my three surviving grandparents (who aren't getting any younger), a half-dozen aunts & uncles, my brother & sister-in-law who are working on adopting some cousins for our brood, and a smattering of my cousins and their families. I miss seeing my family on a regular basis, and I am excited that we will be nearer to them soon. Home is where the heart is ... and my heart is with my family.

My Mother's Life

This spilled from my mind last week ... and now I have edited enough.

There was a time in my life when I feared becoming my mother. It's not that I didn't love her or appreciate her loving mothering. But, I saw her as a failure, as someone who had given up on her budding career before it ever went anywhere and became "just a housewife".

When Mom started college she wanted to be a doctor. She graduated with honors, with a BS in the sciences. At the time, though, she was engaged to my father and decided not to continue her education. She applied for a few industry jobs, but with an engagement ring on her finger, she was subject to the kind of discrimination that we, thankfully, don't see much today. The story I heard about one company's attitude was: "What if your husband gets transferred? We don't want the trouble of finding someone new then." Although she was very qualified, they didn't hire her. (And 37 years later, my father works for the same company and was never transferred far enough to consider moving the household.)

Those rejections were a good excuse to get started on a family. I was born 10 months after Mom & Dad were married. She substitute taught while pregnant with me, and didn't return to work until a few years after my brother (two years younger) was in school. That's about 8 years of being "just a mom". When she went back, it was to a teacher's assistant position: not a career I considered worth aspiring to when I was a young woman, but something that allowed her to be home when her children were.

I always thought Mom had given up on her dreams. But, in the light of my own experiences, I see that if she had really wanted to pursue becoming a doctor, had wanted to pursue a job in industry, she probably could have done so. Mom is not a much of a fighter, and it would have been difficult ... but I think that if she really wanted to pursue these career choices, then she would have kept at it longer, tried harder. Perhaps she thought that some day she would return to her dreams of a career, or maybe she didn't. But ultimately, that wasn't her choice.

When she became a teaching assistant, a lowly "teacher's aide", Mom achieved many things I imagine she wanted. Time enough for family, to raise two beautiful self-confident children who could dream of astronomical careers, time enough for religion, time enough for personal pursuits, and a job where she could work with kids and help people. Although her work was not at the top of society's standards for success, she was respected, and used her mind. She taught Sunday school, and became superintendent of Sunday school for the church. She became president of the church. She was active with her sorority, and held various leadership positions. She read, a lot, and shared her love of reading with me. She sang in the church choir. She has done many wonderful, worthwhile things with her life, even without an ambitious career.

When I was younger, it was hard for me to accept my mother's choices. The conflict I feel about leaving my career now leads me to believe that it is still difficult for me to accept, especially from myself. How can I, that young girl that dreamed of the stars, accept that my career is no longer important to me, that it's okay to let it go? The path is right in front of me.

In the past, I have feared becoming my mother. But I am no longer afraid. With the haze of fear removed from my eyes, I recognize what a wonderful role model she has been for me. And I see that she still has much to teach me. I will live, and love, and move in new directions.

Thanks, Mom.

Deadlines

Now that I know when I'll be taking off work, I am feeling a lot of (self-induced) pressure to leave things in the best state I can for those who will take over for me. Even before the 20th, there are deadlines, and oh-so-much to do. So while I have lots of ideas for new posts, they'll have to wait until I feel more caught up. One thing at a time, step by step, I'll get there.

Time Compresses

At my OB appointment yesterday, I asked my doctor when she thought I should go on maternity leave. I had been planning on 38 weeks, as that is what I did for the first, and it seems to be some kind of standard. I was thinking (hoping?) that she would say I should go out a few weeks earlier, but her response floored me. "How about 30 weeks?" Um, that's just two weeks from now (different due date than I used for my countdown). "Well, how about 32 weeks then, but if you feel like you need to take off sooner, just do it, and we'll make the leave retroactive." Um, okay ...

Well, that certainly puts a new frame on things!

I told my boss this morning that I would be going on leave before the end of the year, that my last day would be December 20. What I didn't have the courage to say yet is that I won't be coming back.

AD and I talked about my reluctance to make my decision final last night. I told him I am scared to do so, but I don't know why. (Does it really matter why? Will naming my fears make them go away?) But when he posed the question, "why would you go back?", all I could come up with is how much work there is still to do on these projects, and my sense of obligation to those projects and to the people involved.

But I also have obligations to my family, and most importantly, to myself.

As the doctor said, "the work will always be there." My boss will find someone to take over while I am on leave, whether I have finished 2 or 5 or 28 things on my to do list before then. And once someone else is handling the work, I'm sure they can capably continue to do so when I don't come back.

I repeat myself

Am I doing a dis-service to myself and society by choosing to opt-out of the full-time workforce? Am I really choosing to do so, or is my choice so constrained by societal norms that I don't even see it?

What are my constraints? The commute that makes it impractical to stop home and see the boys during the day. Available, but limited telecommuting. My energy, which waxes and wanes on a random schedule because of the pregnancy hormones. Then, there's a a household to run. Oh, I'm by no means doing this alone, but there are some details which seem to busy me more frequently, as mom, than anyone else in the house: Holidays are coming - what gifts should we get? When should we have our celebrations? What should we eat? When should we get the groceries? The Inventor's 3-year checkup needs to be scheduled. So do dentist appointments for the boys. And we need to get things for the school food drive.

More insidiously, I wonder if things are being done the way I would do them, if I were at home. How have we gone through so many paper towels and so much laundry detergent in the past few months? Are the boys getting adequate stimulation while I am at work? Is the Inventor learning his letters? Is the Painter getting enough intellectual challenges to supplement kindergarten (which is socially, but not mentally challenging for this one)? Are the boys missing out because D doesn't drive and can't take them as many places as I think I would? Fortunately I don't wonder about these things too much. But I suppose they do affect my thinking when I consider whether I would rather work or stay home.

But beyond the constraints, I think taking some time off to be "just a mom" is my excuse to be me. Societally, raising kids is generally seen as an accepted (although under-compensated) alternative to working, whereas quitting to "find oneself" is seen in a much less favorable light. I say "societally" but these attitudes are apparently well-ingrained in my mind, as well.

Still, I repeat myself. I have twice before left my career with no intention to return. Once was several years before the Painter was born, and once when he was not quite one-year old. I have some idea what it will be like to be home with the boys, although three will certainly be different than one. And I also know that just as I left twice before, I returned twice before. I repeat myself.

I fear that rather than finding new paths, I will lose myself in mothering as much or more than I am lost right now. I fear that I will regret leaving my job at a place others only dream of working. I fear that my mind will atrophy. I fear that leaving my income now will limit our lifestyle and future choices. I fear that moving closer to family, I will miss the mild winters in this part of the country.

But does any of that really matter? I am drawn right now towards freedom and away from the daily grind. I am drawn towards the beauty that my boys bring to my life. I am drawn to the connections of family. I am drawn to explore my dreams, to create, to live consciously. I choose now to listen to my thoughts and dreams and inspirations, and when the opportunity arises, take incremental steps to make them come true.

It's okay that I repeat myself. I have done what seemed right at the moment and I will continue to do so.

Lucky I only fear the worst

These scary stories and Lillian's Very Bad News have me thinking about how lucky I am.

I have a job that pays the bills (even though rent is $2000/month) and subsidizes health care premiums for the whole family. We can afford quality child care (and I highly recommend the au pair program as an affordable means of child care, especially if you have more than one child needing care). Although there is no paid maternity leave, I am eligible for short-term disability pay for approximately the first six weeks after the baby is born, and I live in one of the very few states with paid family leave.

Nonetheless, I am contemplating leaving all of this behind. No - I have decided to leave, although I give myself permission to change my mind. I am afraid of what may await me when I leave my career behind, both personally and financially. But I am also drawn to spend more time with my boys, so that I can learn again the lesson that Articulate Dad and I used to practice, "Live each day as though it were your first, with the wide-open, wondering eyes of a child."

Articulate has recently applied for a very interesting interdisciplinary academic post, and we are keeping our fingers crossed that it will work out. Of course, I want it to work out because it could be very personally rewarding and satisfying for A.D. But I also have selfish motivations in that it would ease my fears, and make it easier to explain why I am leaving work. But what if he doesn't get the position? Is it irresponsible of me (us) to leave my job, this source of stability and security?

I want the freedom to choose my life, but I fear that my choices will not yield the results I expect, that I may end up in a scary story of my own making.

I would do better to remember that security is an illusion, and that all things in life are temporary. In the recent California fires, all we suffered was some bad air quality, but certainly a lot of people learned a lesson in the impermanence of all things.

Fear is a part of life. But I can let go of my fear, and trust that everything will turn out all right.

Recuperation

I spent two days at home to recuperate, but didn't end up doing much resting on either one. I did take some time for myself on Monday, listening to an article about Opting Out from North Carolina public radio. I particularly liked a comment from one of the callers, Anna, who had left her high-powered career in Boston to move to North Carolina where her husband pursued his dream to be a school teacher and she stay home with their child. In Boston, he had been a stay-at-home dad while she worked, but then she decided to "opt out" of her career, and they opted into a different lifestyle in which, she recounts, "I've never been happier and I've never been poorer in my whole life."

That kind of testimonial is important for me to hear. As much as we all know that money can't buy happiness, I certainly have reservations about leaving work, partly because of the (somewhat irrational) fear of not having enough money.

Now here's my picking and choosing mind at work again. Just because money can't buy happiness, does that mean I'll be happier with less of it? More to the point, will I be happier if I leave work than if I stay?

The answer to that question can, in part, be found in the two days I was just at home. As I mentioned, I didn't actually spend much time resting while at home. In addition to listening to other women talk about being poor and happy, enjoying some time to myself, enjoying some time with my boys, and doing some work, I did something just a little bit creative. I figured out, all on my own, without a sewing machine, how to convert some of A.D.'s old T-shirt's into Halloween costumes for the boys. While the "kitty ghost", for the Painter, still needs a little work, the Inventor's pumpkin costume turned out pretty cute. (Pictures coming soon.)

Thinking about that simple, creative, loving act, making Halloween costumes for the boys, makes me smile.

Holding out until February

My due date is in February, and I've been planning to work until then. Financially, it makes a lot of sense, since I would not only earn 3-4 more months of regular income, but also be eligible for 6-10 weeks of disability pay plus 6 weeks of paid family leave from the state. That's 3-4 months of paychecks from the state, without having to do one lick of engineering work (we all know that having a newborn at home is also a lot of work). And, health insurance is undoubtedly cheaper while working than if I was paying COBRA.

All that said, it sure is hard to stay focused on the job these days. Sure, part of me says, "well, now that I've made the decision to leave, I ought to do a bang-up job, and get everything finished and in order before I go." But ... I've never been very disciplined. Having made the decision to go (tentatively, arduously, and over the course of months), I'm already mentally & emotionally on my way. My physical self is here at work, but it doesn't accomplish much without the rest of me.

Guilt

Once the flood gates open ...
... you get to hear about all the things that have been stewing in my brain for the past week.

One of the things that makes it difficult for me to say I will leave my job is guilt. This guilt comes in several forms.

I feel guilty that by leaving, I will be treating the people I work with badly, when I have been treated so well. I know my coworkers are very busy, and my boss is looking to expand the department, and people in my field are in pretty high demand right now, so if I leave, won't I be leaving them in a lurch? If I analyze this guilt, I realize how irrational it is. First, I am making assumptions about how much I am needed and how much I will be missed that are probably somewhat exaggerated. Secondly, I have been treated well and well-compensated for the work I have done, and will do until I leave. That compensation is not for future work, work that I can leave for some other engineer who wishes to be well-compensated. I am sure I am not paid any better than my peers for what I do, so I shouldn't sell myself short by feeling an obligation to the company because of my current compensation. People, my boss in particular, may feel disappointed that I am leaving, but I need to remember that disappointment is unavoidable in life, sometimes, and disappointment is not injury. I am not treating someone badly by disappointing them. (If I tried to avoid disappointment at home I might feed my boys sweets all day and give them anything they asked for. Would this be in their best interests and "treating them well"? Absolutely not!)

Another kind of guilt I feel about leaving work is what Articulate has likened to survivors guilt. Why should I be able to take off from work, to leave the "daily grind" when so many people need to work to make ends meet? Isn't it somehow wrong for me to leave? Irrational, I know, but present nonetheless.

Then there is the financial guilt. I feel that by leaving work I put our future financial well-being at risk. We will be drawing down savings instead of increasing them. This goes against the practical German-heritage Midwest no-nonsense upbringing I had. How can I possibly take off work indefinitely and still expect to have money left for my children's college education and our old age, not to mention any emergencies that come along? But, I must remember, I'm not in this alone. As A.D. reminds me, he intends to make his business profitable, and maybe a lack of my income will help to motivate him towards success. Besides, I am an intelligent and capable person. While I may not be able to earn as much money in another line of work as I do currently, I am sure I can bring in some income if it becomes necessary. And, I might even figure out how to make money doing something I enjoy, if I stop spending so much of my time doing something that I don't.

Love-Hate Relationship

It's becoming clear to me that I don't really have a love-hate relationship with my work so much as I have an apathetic relationship to my work. I like the pay, the adult interaction, the recognition from co-workers and my boss, that I feel competent and respected. The work mostly bores me. The projects are cool, but they don't drive me. Nothing about the work seems to really excite my passions, although they used to, when I first started this career. Now ... my passions lie elsewhere.

This became more clear to me last week, while I listened to a news report about a road-rage drag-racing incident, in which some innocent bystanders in a parked car were struck, and a 5-year-old boy killed. Of course, this hit very close to home, because the Painter is 5 years old. I thought to myself, "Life is too precious to waste doing something I don't want to be doing." And, "We need to get out of this place." Not that bad things only happen here - I know they can happen anywhere - but why stay in a place we don't really like, when the only thing keeping us here is a job I don't really like?

What do I want?

If posed the question in some drastic hypothetical form, such as "If you knew you only had five years to live, what would you do now?" or "If you just won the lottery and you knew you never had to worry about money again, what would you do?", I invariably answer that I would quit my job. But the rational part of my self argues that these questions do not represent my reality, and I should make my life decisions based on the current facts of my life.

Okay. So here are the facts of my life: I generally spend one to one and a half hours commuting each workday, so that I can sit in front of a computer all day, accomplish far less than I am capable of, and feel guilty that I didn't do more. Why do I sit in front of a computer all day if I am not accomplishing anything? Guilt, I suppose. Getting stuck. Avoiding thinking about the issues that keep me where I ostensibly do not want to be. On the weekends, I steal as much time for myself as possible, and otherwise go with the flow. The boys want to make a fort in the family room? Ok. They want to watch a DVD? Ok. My husband wants to talk? Ok. We need something from the grocery store? Ok (but better if I can go by myself!)

If I quit my job, take the proverbial off-ramp, what would I be doing? Staying home with the boys, probably. At least, that is the default response, since someone needs to watch them. But ... it's not my family that I am thinking about all day while I am trying to (not) work. What do I think about? Whether or not I should keep my job, work part-time, or quit altogether after the baby is born; what books I would read if I had the time; where we should live; connecting with other people.

Connecting. Last night we went to local synagogue, had a nice time meeting people, feeling a part of a community. It makes me think twice for the hundredth time about whether we should leave our current locale. I feel very isolated here, but how can I make connections if we keep moving every year or two? How odd, then, that I sit around and think about connecting with people, reading about other people, lurking, instead of actually calling up a friend or inviting someone to lunch. And if connecting with people is what I really want, how is quitting work going to help?

And how does blogging help me connect with my 5-yr-old, who obviously wants my attention right now?