I quit my job.

Yup, people, I am back to stay-at-home-motherhood.

I have SO much to say about the process, and I've written many a blog post in my head throughout the last semester, but for the last six weeks at school, only a couple of people knew I was leaving. I didn't want word to get out to my students before they heard from me, so my news was confined to those who received my Christmas letter. :)

Where to begin?

I have been through a range of emotions on the subject: first I took a sucker-punch to my pride and felt like a failure, then I felt awkward and regretful at work but excited at home, then I felt eager to leave, then I felt sad that I left, and now I'm positively giddy to be home again.

Having gone from stay-at-home-motherhood to working-mom and then actually quitting to stay home again, I feel like I've been exposed to just about every person's feelings and opinions about working moms. I often know how people feel about it because of the decisions they've made for themselves, but also, even when people are trying to be non-judgmental and supportive, their feelings seep into their comments. However, we all know that I am uber-sensitive to others'opinions of me, and I have often been pleasantly surprised by the support that I've gotten leaving my job.

I had thought about quitting at the semester after only a few weeks of teaching, but at that time decided I would stick it out for the year. Even when Anders needed surgery earlier than expected I was planning on going back. The straw that broke the camel's back was when our beloved babysitter told us she wanted to be done babysitting so that she could go back to being a stay-at-home mom. I think my work was more than either one of us had bargained for. When she told me that, I cried all the way to school and then I cried in my department meeting (so embarrassing!) It was just one stressful event after another. I couldn't imagine 1. finding childcare as cheap and as good as what we had, 2. transitioning the boys to that new childcare (the first transition was a nightmare!), and 3. sending Anders to new childcare right after his big surgery.

Not only was I eager to spend time with the boys and in my house (remember that I started working right before we moved), but also, teaching was not worth the money. Because I was part-time but teaching every day, the finances simply didn't work. I am still kind of depressed by the fact that I am a highly educated person who can't make enough money for it to be worth it for me to work. It sucks. (Although I have thought of some stuff I might be able to do, but that's a subject for another post.)

So I told my principal that I needed to be done by the end of the semester. It was about five weeks away at that time. They really dragged their feet finding someone to replace me, and there was some awkwardness at the end when I told them I was leaving whether they hired someone or not, but ultimately I left on very good terms. They did find someone to replace me--in fact, someone younger and more highly educated than I am! My students and colleagues were so understanding, kind, and supportive on my last two days that it made it really hard to go.

My first two days at home were exhausting and I was crabby. I used to eat lunch with such interesting people at school, while wearing heels and make up, too! Then suddenly I was back in sweatpants sitting at a tiny table in the kitchen repeating, "Get back in your seat, please!" ten thousand times a meal. But then I got back into the swing of things and was reminded how very interesting my boys are, too. I may not talk about politics and gossip, but I do get lots of compliments ("Momma...I yike you.") and laughs.

I'm also whipping my house into shape finally! Yesterday Home Depot was have a "storage event!" so I bought 12 big bins and have been tackling our storage room. Organizing is addicting! I think I'll go back for more bins today!

I've also had trips to the museum, library, and Ikea, and I've started back up on a workout regimen. Most importantly I also dusted off my prayer journal again.

A couple of weeks before the babysitter told us she wanted to quit, I had said to Zach, "There is nothing in my life that is the way I want it to be right now: my relationship with God, my relationship with you, the way I parent, the way I teach, the way I eat, my lack of exercise, the way our house is kept...." So when Beth gave us her news, it was the sign, perhaps the excuse I needed to say, "enough is enough."

At church the day before Anders's surgery, we took him to get prayed for by the pastor, elders, and friends. One elder prayed that this surgery would "usher in a season of blessings" for our family, and that phrase struck a chord with me. I knew God had good things in store for us. I cannot remember being as happy as I am today.