Walking and talking

Taking the kids for a walk this afternoon. There is a video store and a dollar store within walking distance from our house and I'm planning on picking up spoons for the kitchen (we're down to two. We're always wanting for spoons) and I'm considering whether I should walk all the way up to the city building to turn in my resume for the job I'm hoping to get. On the one hand going up there with my kids might not be great, but on the other, it could be good for them to see a part of the process.

Looking for a job after not working for six years has brought up many uncomfortable feelings for me. For one thing, I fear for my kids. I fear for them if I work and they are where I don't have control over their environment. I don't really have anyone there to support me by keeping them for me... no one I trust to ask, anyway. This means Michael, at least, will wind up in daycare during the summer. The job is such that during the school year I won't need any daycare, but during the summer I should find someplace for Michael. For this summer, at any rate. Next year, when Katy is thirteen and Michael is a year older, I might feel okay about leaving him here with her, but I just don't think they're ready for that yet. In many ways, they aren't ready for that amount of independence. This summer staying home while I work (by herself without Michael) might be just the primer she needs to learn that.

I worry for them if I don't work, too, though. They ask, sometimes, about whether I'm going to work. The money stuff bothers them, but I think also the trips that society puts on people about this sort of thing affects them. I don't want them to think less of me for that. I know that I'm staying home for a reason, but I feel like the time is right now to go back. I think that I've had the effect on them that I wanted, by being here, always, for them. I think that I've had the time to heal myself and feel stronger and ready to go out into the world and stand up.

And, yo, the money won't be bad.

I think that having someplace to be every day will help keep me from being depressed. I think that the money will improve our lives... even if it'll be slim during the summer when I'm paying for daycare for Michael. Better clothes for school in the fall for the kids. A new dishwasher maybe. Maybe a vacation somewhere, at some point. Pay off some debts. Feel more secure, financially.

Someday if I get brave, I might save up and get another, less ugly car. Maybe I'll save the ugly car for Katy in a few years. I'm sure she'll be thrilled. If her dad doesn't buy her a Mercedes or something ridiculous like that.

He asked her, while she was there this week, if I'd gotten a job. That stung a little. I told her that it wasn't any of his business whether or not I was working, but I immediately felt bad for saying that to her. If I was stronger, I'd call him and tell him it's none of his business and how dare he drag her into his judgments of me.

Society really makes it hard on mothers. You're damned if you do and damned if you don't. If you spend your time for them, then you're lazy and financially irresponsible. If you work, then you're selfish and quite possibly a bad mother. Not to mention the crushing cost of daycare, which has been much of the reason I haven't pursued a job before now. Before Katy got to this age, I would have had to give up any job I had during the summer, or else work just to pay for daycare.... if I wasn't actually sliding backward financially because of the cost of holding down a job (car stuff (I rarely ever drive anywhere, as it is, driving daily somewhere will raise my car costs, certainly) daycare, clothing, and whatever other incidental costs came up.... McDonalds for those nights I didn't feel like cooking after work, for instance.

But, now it's time. I heard someone say the other day that the more time she had, the less she seemed to get done, and that is me, all over. I need a schedule, and structure now. I think it'll help me in so many ways.