I feel weird

I hit an important milestone last week: my "career" as a stay-at-home mom has now outlasted my career as a teacher. That's weird. I feel like I am a professional who is choosing to stay home while my kids are young, except that I have no actual plans to go back to work when the girls are older. I wouldn't be surprised to find myself one day among the many who go back to work as their kids become more independent, but I just don't have a plan to, is what I'm saying. Some of my friends have definite career goals; I do not.

When I told Ryan that I have now stayed home longer than I ever worked, he asked me which job I felt more successful at. This is a strange question for many reasons, but one I am willing to ponder.

First off, I made fewer mistakes as a teacher (not that I didn't make any). I believe that's because I only worked about 180 days a year, for about 9 hours a day. Second off, this job had fewer mixed emotions for me. I loved, loved, loved--a million times over loved--teaching. I think it was the perfect job for me.

Strangely, I have no photos of me teaching. This was taken right around finals, I believe. Notice how well I used my whiteboard; only the highest standards of education in my classroom!

Here's one of me in action, but this is after I "retired"-- I had come up to the school do to some Homecoming prep work with the students. I actually found lots of (useless for this post) pictures of me with students, one who went on to become Miss Kansas, one who went to work for MTV in Nashville and worked with tons of celebrities, and I could go on and on. I adore them all (well, all the girls anyway. The boys could be obnoxious.) and miss being with them. *sniff*

But being a mom? I make lots of mistakes. And I work 365 days a year and a literal 24 hours a day. I love, love, love--a billion times over love--being a mom. But it's more complicated than going into a job every day. (An aside: I think being a working mom is the absolute hardest job in the world. I have total respect for the women who are able to do it all.) 

The moment I became a mother

Teaching was way more glamorous than sleep training, baby food making, bottom wiping, book reading, and house cleaning. The rewards-- positive feedback, making teenagers laugh, making new friends out of old students, intellectually challenging myself and others--were pretty great too.

I won't pretend that the perks of staying home aren't amazing, even better than summers off-- sleeping in until 8, not rushing out the door in the morning, being home all day unless I want to go somewhere else--they're pretty awesome. I don't love the mundane of staying home, but it is what it is.

So what I'm saying is, it's complicated. I don't know which job I'm better suited for or which one will occupy my 8 to 5 in the future. But I do know that I have more practice being a mom than a teacher. And that's weird.

I'd be interested in hearing your thoughts. If you're a parent, which job do you feel more equipped for-- one in a nice shiny building with other professionals, or one in your own house with your kids? If you had to plan out the rest of your days, money being no concern obviously, which "career" would you choose? Or would you do a combination? (And it doesn't make you a bad parent if you would rather work somewhere else from 8 to 5. So there's no "right" answer here. I'm just curious.)

I'll understand if you think less of me

So. The movies. I literally never go to the movie theater. Well, literally in the figurative sense. I did go about eighteen months ago. Anyway. I went to see The Help on Friday night with some girlfriends and I was all in a tizzy beforehand. Should I wear pants? Bring a sweater? Sneak candy in? Order a drink there? What was I supposed to do during the movie? Play with silly putty? Yes, silly putty sounds right.

Into the purse silly putty goes. Along with a sweater and kleenex in case the inevitable happens and I cry at some point.

Ryan said I was acting as crazy as if I had just received notice I was going to tea with the Queen of England. He clearly doesn't understand my anxiety surrounding movie theaters.

To begin, it is too dang expensive to go. Thankfully, my kind and generous friend Sarah gave me one of her comp tickets, so it was free for me. But still! Everyone else there had paid, what, like twenty dollars apiece to be there? Since I haven't been in awhile, I don't know what the ticket cost is, but I am pretty sure it's a kajillion dollars.

Secondly, WHO SAT IN MY SEAT BEFORE ME? Did they have lice? Had they showered recently?

Thirdly, the rules. My word, the rules! I sat there for at least three minutes being reminded to stop talking, turn off my cell phone, keep my feet off the seat in front of me, and buy concessions.

Fourthly, the previews. They cause me great anxiety because I think, "Oh, I may like that movie. I'll have to remember to see it when it comes out on DVD in approximately EIGHTEEN MONTHS." And then I never remember what movies to rent when I am at Redbox.

Fifthly, the group laughter and claps. I loathe this. Ma'am, the producers only included that stupid line in the movie so predictable movie-goers like you would laugh out loud. You are playing right into the producers' hands just like this silly putty is doing in my own hands.

Sixthly, I can't NOT cry at a movie. So when the lights come up at the end, I look like a horrified zombie and try to exit the theater as quickly as possible, which isn't very quickly since we are being herded like the slow, fat cattle we are (see: concessions).

Also, I read too many books. They just ruin movies for me. This movie was not even close to as good as the book, no matter what other people say. Maybe I can go to Hollywood and actually make a movie that is equal to the book and then play it in small rooms with fresh chairs and free food and people who promise not to laugh too loudly.

Yeah, that sounds like a good use for my life.