The eternal question

I'm facing that eternal question; the one that plagues mothers everywhere:

"Should I go back to work?"

Yesterday I was sent an invitation to apply for a proofreading position at a pharmaceutical company 30 miles away, based in the same business park my husband used to work in (although for a different company).  We know the company and we know how far away it is (40 min commute), and we know that I am absolutely desperate to find meaning in my life beyond that of a-mother-with-a-special-needs-kid-who-does-some-freelancing-stuff-when-she-has-time.  So when this opportunity came up I was really interested, but I delayed in answering the e-mail because any decision I make involves the whole family.  It really does.

I spoke to my husband about it when he called home at lunchtime and he was very positive, saying I should definitely apply and totalling up how much extra income we would have if I got the job.  But something still stopped me, and it took me a while to figure it out.

Daycare isn't really an issue long-term.  I'm visiting a nursery on Monday that caters for children like Little O, and they seem very keen to have him on board, but they can't offer him a week-long placement until mid-October, which is awkward.  I'd be able to get him in all day Monday and Friday for a few weeks, but that would still leave Tues-Thurs with no care.  Then my Dad comes out to visit at the end of October and it would be a shame to have Little O in daycare the whole time, and me at a new job.  But come November, and daycare and family issues will be resolved, and I'll have plenty of time for a full-time position.

The commute also doesn't bother me, although the hours are a little sticky.  It would be 50 hrs a week, plus occasional Saturdays, depending on deadlines.  Thankfully I'm a very fast worker when I know what I'm doing, so I anticipate meeting their expectations and then surpassing them, and not actually having to work many Saturdays at all.  I'm also not afraid to commit a large portion of my time to a new job if I really enjoy it.  I actually love working in offices, but I've never found a JOB that I like.  Perhaps that would change.

No, the thing that bothered me and took a while to surface, was my husband's attitude to Little O's care.  My husband is almost as much of a feminist as I am, but on this particular topic it's as though he's thrown all notion of equal parenting out of the window.  When we were discussing specifics last night in bed, I reminded him that if I were to work full-time, it would mean I couldn't take Little O to all the appointments and therapy sessions that I do now.  Actually, at least initially, I wouldn't be able to do ANY of them because I'd be in a new job and trying to make a good impression.  So I requested that he look into his employer's flexi-time policy, and find out whether he can start shifting his hours a little to accomodate Little O's care.

His response was quite astounding.  He said, "No, they won't go for that", and turned over in bed.  End of discussion.  I was gobsmacked, so I pulled him back over to face me and asked him why.  He said they're really busy, and besides, WE need the money.  It struck me that he sees his job and my (potential) job differently.  As far as he's concerned, it's ME who needs to ask for flexi-time because HIS job is already stable, and because it's MY responsibility to take care of Little O.  I was lost for words.  I had always assumed that if I worked full-time again, that parenting our son would be shared equally - indeed, before we knew about Little O's problems, I'd intended to go back to work much sooner than this.  So what the hell is going on?

I feel like I'm meeting everyone else's needs and schedules... what about mine?  I've given up my career to this point to be an advocate and parent to my son, but I feel like it's my time again.  I WANT to go back to work, but I CAN'T do it if my husband won't meet me halfway.  I just can't roll up to a new employer and tell them I need three days off a month to take my son to appointments because my husband won't help me.  It isn't fair to ask that of me, or my (potential) company.  I don't know what's going on.  Maybe my husband's afraid of losing his job, or taking on extra responsibility at home; I don't know.  But I do know that I can't have a full-time job AND be the primary caregiver.  Not with Little O.

In the end, I did apply for the job, via an agency.  I explained my situation to them and they seemed accomodating, but they recommended I don't tell the company until I'm offered a position.  If and when that happens I'm going to feel really guilty, because it will feel like I've misled them.  I'm already panicking about finding childcare for Little O for when I have to go to an interview - how the hell do I pick up those extra three days a week too?  Frankly, I feel confident that I'll get the job if I get an interview, because unlike other jobs I've gone for where I just need the money, in this instance I'm really invested in the position itself.  And I'm fucking good at what I do and I'm confident in my abilities, so selling myself to an employer should be okay.  It's just post-interview that I'm worried about.

I need a grandparent around for about a month, I think.  Someone to take care of Little O while I get a job organised; someone who can take him to his appointments and act on my behalf.  But I also need a husband who supports my decision to go back to work properly, on MY terms.  It's all very difficult.  Exciting, but difficult.

Tina.

Continuing my rant, followed by birthday fun

Right.  Got a bit sidetracked the other night and forgot to finish my post, so I'll do my best to finish up what I can remember.

I was all angsty after Thursday's SS appointment, and one of the reasons was the fact I was up there for THREE HOURS.  I obviously hadn't accounted for this and so I hadn't brought any of Little O's food with me.  I'd fed him at 8am that morning, and didn't leave the clinic until 1.30pm, which meant he didn't start his lunch until 2.30pm.  He's also developed this incredibly annoying habit of wanting to nap at EXACTLY the wrong moment, so that instead of being hungry and wanting to enjoy some PediaSure (mmm, banana flavour-y), he basically yelled the whole way home until I put him in his crib.  I figured I'd just hook up his feeding pump and let him get as much as he could while he was asleep, but Little O is having none of that at the moment and as soon as he starts to feel something entering his tummy, he wakes up again and yells.  Yells until he chokes and throws up anything I've just spent the last half an hour trying to put in to him.  It's completely maddening, and I just get so frustrated sometimes.

All I ever try to do is keep my son healthy, happy and growing.  I do my best to make time for appointments and specialists, but it's infuriating to have to reschedule Little O's life around THEIR office times.  It's worse when an appointment takes three sodding hours, Little O won't sleep, and then basically misses an entire feed because he's all out of sorts.  I hate other people sometimes.  They make our lives very difficult.

Today was a better day.  I was utterly exhausted last night (it was Friday, after all, but let's not go down the ol' Spoons route again.  I don't have the va va voom for that right now), and started falling asleep on the couch at 6pm.  Mike ordered me to bed, and in bed I stayed... until 9.30am this morning.  I was so startled when I woke up and the clock said 9.30 but it was light outside.  It felt WONDERFUL to get that much sleep and really recharged my batteries.  We even had sex to celebrate.  :) 

Feckin' miracle, that is.

We took Little O to his friend's first birthday party this afternoon at the zoo.  She is such an adorable little princess, but that child LOVES to get messy!  She had a massive pink giraffe birthday cake, and when she was given a slice she tore in to that thing like she'd never eaten before in her short little life.  She was absolutely covered in cake, crumbs, and icing, and I think I wasn't the only one who found it hysterically funny when she pressed her sticky pink hands against her mother's clean white shorts.  I'm still chuckling about it now.  I got some beautiful shots of Little O and his birthday-girl friend sitting on the grass together, but I think Facebook is as far as they'll be going.  Sorry about that.  Of course, you can always befriend me on FB and share in Little O's gorgeousness instead.

Tina.