Hi Ho, Hi Ho...

WOHM.

For those who are “Online Mommy Bulletin Board” savvy like me, you’ll know what that acronym stands for. 

Work Outside (the) Home Mom.

You’ll also know that there are very different opinions as to the validity of being a WOHM.  Yikes.  You want to start a heated discussion on Babycenter.com?  Entitle it, “What’s best for my family—if I work outside the house or if I stay at home? ”  We’re talking FIRE. 

Me?  My opinion has always been that YOU need to decide what’s best for YOUR family.  Once you’ve made that decision, go with it, be happy with it, and don’t expect anyone else to make the exact same choice.  Because every family is different and at the end of the day, I only come home to MY kid(s) and husband (singular :-)).

Certain people, I’ve come to realize, believe, for some (what I consider to be CUH-RAZY) reason, that God has already made that decision for my family and that as a Christian wife and mother, I need to stay home and tend to the hubs and chillin’.  Reedonkulous, I say.  And if anyone wants to get into an argument with me about it, I’m open.  In fact, I’ve got my mouth or pen & paper ready.  I’ve been known to write a letter or two to the editor of a Christian publication regarding this topic.

I have always wanted a career.  Sure, it’s taken me 15 years to decide WHAT that career looks like, but deep down, I’ve always known that I would work outside the home while raising my kid.  There was a six-month period of time, during the last half of my (short) pregnancy and the beginning of Ellie’s life, when I thought that staying at home with her was the best choice.  I was so tired.  SO TIRED.  And my brain, in its mushy state, could hardly tell left from right; formula from coffee cream; diaper from sanitary napkin.  I was literally incapable of working outside my four walls.

But, with a little Zoloft, a lot of sleep and regulated hormones, that period (pun intended) of my life passed quickly and by the time Ellie was smiling, I was DESPERATE to return to work. 

I returned to my job when Ellie was 4 months old.  Although the decision to return to work wasn’t a difficult one, contemplating Ellie’s care was excruciating.  Ellie had so many special needs as a preemie baby, and a large daycare was out  of the question because of her underdeveloped lungs and susceptibility to colds-which-could-easily-turn-into-pneumonia.  So, we hired a nanny.  A wonderful, caring, sweet, gentle, loving nanny.  Pretty much every penny of my paycheck went to pay Carlin.  And it was SO worth it.

Being back at work gave me perspective again.  I was happier there.  I felt fulfilled there.  I no longer felt raging jealousy towards Richard, who “got” to leave the house for 8 hours every day.

The best part of it all was that ELLIE was happy.  Carlin was so great with Ellie (when she was actually awake—those were the “good ole 3-naps-per-day” times), and she became another member of our family.  I truly believe that Ellie could sense MY happiness, and therefore, she was more contented.  It was a smiley sort of sunshiny cycle.

‘Course, those were also the days when I thought that Ellie would grow out of her preemie issues and life would continue as “planned”.  There would be no physical therapy appointments.  We would have no need for a physiatrist, an orthopedist, a neurosurgeon, an orthopedic surgeon, a neurologist, an ophthalmologist, a developmental pediatrician, a gastroenterologist.  Nope.  Just an annual visit to the “regular” pediatrician.

When Ellie was diagnosed with CP and the reality of how our lives were going to change actually started to sink in, I began questioning my ability to build a career.  How would I be able to hold down a job while ensuring Ellie received the best therapy and medical attention?  Not only was I grieving for Ellie and the struggles she was going to face during her lifetime, but I was also selfishly mourning the loss of a career for ME.  It was profound.  Selfish, sure, but incredibly real and painful.

But, as is the case for all things in my life, God was shining down and He knew there were better days ahead.  I truly believe that He created me with the desire for a career and has opened doors throughout my life path, ensuring opportunity to attend to that passion.

When we first moved Up North, I spent a LONG time looking for the perfect job.  (I was going to surround the word perfect with quotation marks, as if to mock the possibility of a perfect job existing.  But, I stopped myself because, honestly, my current job is THAT perfect.)  I job-searched for an entire year, in fact.  I was unmoving in my request for Tuesday mornings off (so that I could bring Ellie to her conductive education class).  I demanded my employer be flexible in regards to doctor’s appointments.  It was a tall order.  God led me to my current job, my current position, my current employer, where my requests were met with high-fives and smiles. 

God also led me to the perfect child care provider for Ellie.  And Ellie has thrived there.  I worry about Ellie being an only child, and her lack of “kiddie socialization”, but she has made sweet, sweet friends at daycare and has been loved on in ways I cannot describe. 

God knew.  He knew when He created me.  He knew when He created Ellie.  He knew when He formed a family between Richard and me.  I am living in His will BECAUSE I am a WOHM.

Just as those of you who are SAHMs (hopefully) feel you’ve made the right choice for YOUR family, and that you’re living in God’s will for YOUR life.

Sometimes (bold, and often rude) people ask me if I work for the money.  The answer?  A little.  My salary is a reflection of my talent and hard work.  If my employer paid me something below what I thought I was worth, it would leave me feeling inadequate and insecure.  So, of course I work for the money.  Additionally, I work so that we can afford the very best care for Ellie.  Also (and here’s where the controversy begins), I work because I like to have nice stuff and do fun things.  If I’m going to, guilt-free, pay for Ellie’s Matilda Jane outfits or my (totally overprice, but worth every penny) cut, color & highlights, then I’ve gotta work.  I’m happy to admit it!

Mostly, though, I work because of how it makes me feel.  I feel smart and accomplished.  I feel energized and fulfilled.  I hope that every SAHM (or dad!) feels the same way doing  THEIR work every day! 

What brought on this post, you ask?

A stupid radio program I listened to in the car at lunchtime, while picking Ellie up from daycare and dropping her off at school (I didn’t say that being a WOHM is EASY…).  I was just minding my own business, trying find a nice praise & worship song on the Christian radio station, when blasted Focus on the Family has to fire me up AGAIN. 

I hate Focus on the Family.  I really do.  First, because I tend to hate all things that Sarah Palin likes.  Second, because they perpetuate this idea that God has somehow called all women to stay at home and take care of their families.  The speaker of the today’s program was telling the radio audience that families need to make the financial sacrifice in order to ensure that one parent is home with the kids, and tending to the house.

Reedonkulous.

What about the SANITY sacrifice?  The SELF-WORTH sacrifice?  The HAPPINESS sacrifice?  For some families, like mine, it has nothing (or, at least, very little) to do with the financial sacrifice. 

So, there ya have it.  My two cents worth on that topic.

Wow, it’s good to be blogging again!

Happy

You know what makes me happy? 

FOOTBALL.

Real, Made In America, 4-down football.  I can't even tell you how my heart fluttered this morning when I was searching the internet for our local TV Guide.  I was going to check to see which games were televised (and, since we don't have a US satellite dish, our stupid Canadian channels carry very few American college football games).  I knew that blasted Notre Dame would be on...AGAIN.  But, I was hoping that, besides THE.GAME. tonight, there'd be another goodie on in the afternoon.  That's when, to my amazement, I realized that ESPN's College Gameday was going to be carried on a station we get.  Oh my!  Truly.  It's like a banquet AND a dance!  Not only is the Alabama game being shown (in HD to boot!), but now we get College Gameday for 2 hours in the morning?!

Heaven.

It was the first time all week that I felt complete joy.

Not the joy that's immediately tempered by heartache.  Like the joy I felt when I saw Ellie in her freakin' adorable first-day-of-school outfit, which was instantly covered over by the realization that her sleeves were a bit too long and they were catching her hands on the walker.  Her walker.  The thing that everyone notices before they can breathe in the beauty of who's USING the walker.

Like the joy I felt when I was greeted by the sweet, familiar faces of students returning to school (I'm a college librarian, in case you weren't aware); the "kids" who skipped up the library stairs just so they could say hi to ME!  The joy that was quickly replaced by feelings of stress and panic when I realized how much I still had to do in order to be ready for classes.

Like the joy that boosted my soul when the crisp fall air hit my face on Monday morning.  The glee of knowing that within a few weeks, I wouldn't have to think about pulling weeds or trimming hedges or taking out bloody perennial gardens.  The joy that was tempered by the knowledge that -40 degrees is also on its way. 

Sometimes, it's nice to feel complete, full-on, all-consuming happiness.

I'm just a little worried that it takes football, something that, in the whole swing of things, is pretty insignificant (though it pains me to admit it), to feel that pure bliss.

Ha!  I suppose by feeling guilty for my football ecstacy, I'm cutting into that joy and actually tempering it.  Can you say "Self Destructive"?

I guess what I'm trying to convey in this relatively useless post (but, hey, at least it's a POST!) is that I wish I could revel in such joy for the "big" things too.  I wish I could float around in the happiness a bit longer during the situations that really count. 

I wish I could revise the dream without remembering the first draft.  That's all.

Just had to get ONE "Bama Cheerleader" pic in here.  This one's from 2007, when Ellie was two.

Just Sayin'...

I’m here.  I think.

It is obviously too great a task for me to keep two blogs updated.  It sucks, because I probably need this blog.  It’s great therapy for me.  And I should be writing more. 

But, I’m tired.

I’m not sure when I got old and tired, but it happened.  My brain can only regurgitate so much onto cyber paper.  My heart can only expand to a certain degree. 

And I worry.  About Ellie.  What happens when she reads this blog?  Do you think I’m revealing too much of my heart?  Do you think she’d feel as though I’m disappointed in her?  Because, wow,  that would wreck me. 

But, I have so much to say.  Always.  SO MUCH to say.

I wonder if I should elaborate on things like…

…How I’m bothered that Ellie doesn’t seem to even care that she’s different from the other kids. The kids she's starting KINDERGARTEN with.  Of course, I’m thankful that she’s not phased by it, but I’m also worried that she’s emotionally behind her peers.

…How we’re thinking about building a new house; one that’s entirely wheelchair accessible.  But, my heart is hesitant.  I don’t want to think of Ellie in a wheelchair.  I don’t want to have to do any sort of landscaping.  I don’t want to be committed to staying here, in small-town Canada, forever.  But, man, if Ellie falls down the stair in our sunken living room one more time, I think we’ll all scream!

…How difficult it is for me to talk to other parents (mostly mothers) about their typically-developing children.  Will I EVER be able to converse with my girlfriends and feel full, unabashed happiness for them?  I can’t yet.  I want to, but I can’t.  I hate that about myself.

…How tempted I am to fly to Ottawa and lobby on Capital Hill in support of the long gun registry.  The thought of the dictator-led Conservative party overturning the long gun registry makes me want to cry.  I love that Canada (up until this point) has supported gun control.  I love that, as a result, firearm violence in my Home and Native land pales in comparison to that of the United States.  Why, oh why, would we want to dink around with that? 

…How I’m fairly certain that unless there is Omnipotent intervention (which is surely possible!), Richard and I have decided that our family will remain fixed at three members.  There are days when my heart pangs at the thought of adoption.  I really would love to cross the ocean and pick up a baby or two.  But, our resources, both time and money, are limited.  We want to send Ellie to therapy classes.  We want Ellie to have the best equipment.  We want to take Ellie on trips.  We want a wheelchair accessible house.  I love my job and I want to work full-time (wouldn’t 2-3 kids require more “at home” time?!  Certainly!).  I want to sleep.  All reasons why we’ve decided not to adopt.  Still hurts my heart a bit though.  

...How I really wish Ellie could wear cute shoes.  I almost cried today when I got an email from the Gap, informing me that all girls' knit boots were on sale.  I want Ellie to wear knit boots.  I want Ellie to wear Mary Janes.  I want Ellie to wear flip flops.  These shoes would go so perfectly with her Matilda Jane outfit.  You know, the way-overpriced duds I bought for her because deep down, I feel that if she's over-the-top dressed, people will overlook the fact that she's in a walker.  Yup.  It's all about the shoes.

But.  If I write more about these topics, will people judge me?  Will you think I'm a bad mom?  Will you think I'm a bad Christian?  

Sigh.

I need some chocolate.