The Bittersweet Return

Glowing, raving, is how my demeanor has been described in relation to my job. I truly love and enjoy my job. As I have bragged, I am SUPER excited to be on the brink of a phenomenal program to hopefully rebuild America’s economy and move forward in our recovery and to help save American’s dream of homeownership as they are at risk.

But with everything in life a price must be paid. Nothing in life is free. Not even the happiness and the opportunity to return to work to yield additional incomes for our family that will be used to ease the pain of the loss of income from The Chad due to the economy. I wish that were an excuse but his industry is DIRECTLY related to the economy; as is mine but in a different fashion.

Today I had the opportunity to pick up the twins from daycare. Excited and scared and uncertainty is what I felt as I jumped in my Dodge Grand Caravan SXT, my former daily driver loaded with all my favorite creature features like leather and satellite, to go pick up my babies. The last week The Chad has been a champ and been the responsible party to take all the kids to pre-school and kindergarten each day. He is wonderful, I love him for doing this as I have a schedule that is not conducive to the kids school schedules which allow me to take them.

*sigh. But the first day we dropped them off was absolutely painful.

I fought back tears. A text message from my mom to wish me a good day as my first day distracted me from the pain, the heartache, the feeling of loss as I left my children with virtual strangers. Every cell in my body was fighting and screaming and kicking just like my twins to return to pick them up from the strange environment. To save them from the styrofoam cup using, not organic, melting pot of germs, and rush them home to be in my arms, playing endlessly and making loads of messes that I would complain about cleaning multiple times.

My complaints seemed petty.

I miss my babes. Today I realized how bittersweet the event is that they wave goodbye each and every morning, my hopes that they have a good day. I hope for a pleasant assimilation for them as they adapt to their new surroundings; I pray they are okay, that they are getting plenty of hugs and kisses, I over compensate and smother them as much as I can when I get home. Looking at my phone every hour to see if I have any new text or call about their status, that a chance may arise that they become ill requiring I leave early or spend a day out of work to be with them again.

Nay sayers may call me a bad mother for returning to work. A choice I made for financial reasons. While we could live without the additional income, I feel that in order to help provide for my family our decision was wise. I also feel that I am OVERLY passionate about the work I am doing and if only for a short time just to help improve our financial situation I think the benefits will outweigh my current fears, my heartache, the missing of my children.

But I know that this time is short, that the experience will be beneficial as they socialize with other children, other people, they will be exposed to an environment that provides benefit to them in their growth. No one says I have to like it, and I cherish every laugh, smile, hug, kiss, whine, and moment I have with them and had with them when I was blessed to experience the joy of pregnancy with multiples. As well as the joy and struggles of learning to be a mom of multiples at home with them.

Yet another chapter, as I am now a working mother of multiples, cherishing the beautiful moments of family each and every night and day.