Dirt: Am I a Martyr or a Mother

Betcha thought I was gone. Off the radar or the reservation. One last sappy blog post about my husband and then...POOF.

Wrong! I have just been really overwhelmed. And I finally had a big fit on Friday. Not big by my historical (or hysterical) standards, but big in the sense of things need to change. 

I have started working almost 40 hours every week.  The work is there and I am trying to make it work so that part of it gets done at home. I have been working 8-3ish at the office. However, my kids schedules involve a pick up every day at 5:30, with the exception of Tuesdays. Then I pick one kid up at 5:30 take her somewhere else and drop her off at 6:15, then head right back to school and pick the second one up at 6:30. Back to pick up again at 8. Yep, we get home pretty much at 6 everyday thanks to traffic.

 

That leaves not a lot of time. 

Those few hours between getting off work and picking up kids, I work out and try to get a household chore or two done. But as anyone who ever has run a household knows, nothing is ever done.

I don't want to hire help just yet. We are not home enough to make it worth the expense. So, instead, we are pitching in. Putting dishes in the dishwasher instead of the sink. 

Putting laundry away instead of leaving it on the pool table. (Yes, we fold our clothes on the pool table).

Unloading the dishwasher every morning so it is ready. 

Little things that I should have communicated instead of trying to just handle on my own. 

I tend to let the burden build and then the straw comes out of left field.

Adjusting to a new schedule takes time and I am not a patient woman. I wanted a job that makes me happy and brings home enough money that we notice. Flexible, fun and truly using my brain? I got it. Gifts often come with strings. My strings are there are not enough hours in the day for me to be a martyr. Hmmm....