Just look at those faces. Those sweet, adorable, butter wouldn’t melt faces. Those drive me crazy, make me want to tear my hair out yet I love them unconditionally faces. Now tell me how I am supposed to leave them for up to 9 hours a day.
My maternity allowance runs out in just over a months time and I am faced with the unenviable task of finding a job. I don’t want to find a job. I want nothing less. And before anyone starts to moan at me and tell me that I’m lazy and a scrounger, it’s not that I don’t want to work per se, I just don’t want to leave my children. The thought of leaving them is tearing me up inside and some days I feel physically sick. I look at my children and despite some days just wishing that the Goblin King would come and whisk them away (it would have to be the David Bowie version obviously), the thought of leaving them in a stranger’s care is eating away at me.
I didn’t feel this way when I returned to work when baby boy was only 9 months old. In fact it felt like a sort of relief to leave the house, converse with other adults and have a bit of ‘me’ time. This time is different however. It’s the polar opposite! I honestly don’t know how I’m going to do it. Everyday I tell myself that I need to start looking for a job and everyday I procrastinate and put it off until tomorrow.
I don’t know if it’s because baby girl just seems so little still or if it’s because I am just so used to the 3 of us being wrapped up in our little bubble everyday (4 of us at weekends). I detest the idea of having to pay for somebody to look after my children for me. I imagine all of the things that I am going to miss. All of the firsts. What if baby girl takes her first steps or says her first words for somebody other than me. What if I miss baby boy recognising his numbers or pedalling a trike for the first time.
Baby girl has started to eat food now and we are still getting to grips with her allergies (cows milk protein being the main one). The thought of her being looked after by someone who doesn’t know her and her accidentally eating something that she shouldn’t frightens me to death. I run through scenarios in my head of all of the things that could go wrong. I know that it is ridiculous and that nurseries and childminders have procedures in place to protect against such incidents but I just can’t stop my mind from over-thinking.
The problem is though is that I have no choice. Whether I am ready or not, my money will soon run out and I will need to go to work. We have bills to pay and food to put on the table and the deadline is looming.
Oh what I would give to just be financially comfortable enough to stay at home and raise my children myself.