What Comes Around ...

I have to apologize to all the stay-at-home moms out there. I used to think you did nothing all day. I bought into the stereotype of bon-bon eating and soap-opera watching. I would think to myself, "She has the time to take a meal to so-and-so or bake bread or paint her nails. I work. I don't have the leisure time to do all that."

Oh, was I wrong. Very very wrong.

I have had a to-do list for over a year now. Some of it is accomplished; some is not. I am hoping not another whole year will pass with unchecked items. I now know how much time the kiddos take out of a day. I eagerly await naptime, when I can sit down and finish a task without interruption, when I can clean or do laundry or cook without chasing Mr. Busyman from another possible danger or disaster.

I am so extremely sorry for thinking you had all the time in the world. We don't. This is my karmic slap in the face. I get a lot of them lately.

The worst part of it all is that I judged my fellow women, my sistas out there who are doing the best they can. Aren't we all? We really can't win. We stay home with our kids, and there are those who think we are lazy bums that aren't contributing to our family's finances. We go to work, and there are those who wonder why we aren't home with our kids, nurturing and guiding them as we mothers should.

What is the answer? I really wish I knew, but I think it is different for everyone, and not one of us should question another's choice. I know this is the right choice for me, to have quit my job and stay home with this sweet boy of mine.

Even though I know this is what I am supposed to be doing, that doesn't make it easy. It is back-to-school time. I'm not going back. I have had a couple of the nightmares that always accompanied this time of year for me - students running awry, lessons unplanned, etc., but I am no longer a teacher.

I miss planning a new lesson.
I miss seeing a kid understanding a concept.
I miss being called Ms. Baca/Mrs. Hancock every day.
I miss my friends. A lot.
I miss decorating my classroom.
I miss the butterflies of a new year and the possibilities that await.
I miss complaining about the administration.
I miss Chinese food Thursdays.

I have read about the allergy to work that is going around, and I marvel how I am experiencing the opposite.

I guess the grass is always greener, right?

However much I miss teaching, though, I will keep my grass. My grass with some yellow spots, some weeds, but a whole bunch of green. My green grass of my husband, who would work five jobs to keep me at home with our little guy. My green grass of awaking each morning to exercise, not to hurry off to the middle school. My green grass of having a little extra time to make those cookies for my friends. And my pure green grass of seeing curiosity in my son's eyes, satisfaction when he figures out how to put those colored doughnuts on the yellow stand, and joy as he drags a book to me to read to him.

I suppose I am still a teacher, after all, but this time my lessons are for a class of one.