Mothering and Life in General
Something hit me while DH was talking to me. Something that let out a bit of heat in me. Later last night I shared with him my feelings.
I don’t feel validated. I feel people call or talk with me because they need or want something. Staying at home, or doing childcare in my home has made the work I do seem less than others. People don’t ask about my day anymore, they don’t seem to care. People seem to think that my day can’t be any worse than working with idiots or a boss that freaks on them.
I don’t feel that my work is honored enough for what I do, that because I am home I am not ‘really working’. That because I work with children and I am in my home, that I don’t get to have that time to bitch. Since being at home is the choice I made.
Because I am at home, I should not have me time, or unwind at the television or be able to have my time on the phone. Because I am at home, my work can not remotely compare to those who brings home the higher digits.
In my work, I do have co-workers, yet mine can not speak or tell me exactly what they want. During my day I work many different shifts, with little pay per hour, I don’t have a detailed title or position, and I don’t have the option to say “Oh wait, this is not my job”. What comes up is my job to deal with, there is no one else but me.
I don’t get breaks, get noticed of my accomplishments and when I ask for raises I could loose my job. I don’t get to have boast of small talk, or people at work that can relate to me. I change bums, and think in the mind of a child. I hug those children as if they where my own, and love them just as much.
I get to see them passionate with feelings and I am the only one who can get them through. There is no sick or slacking days. There is dealings with hazardous materials and messy clean-ups. How is my day less than yours?
In daycare, it does not matter how much sleep I had the night before, I am expected to be upbeat, patient and a teacher. When the other children come I trial around the learning of this house is different than theirs and we do things different.
The children ‘get-it’ by Thursday, which makes Friday really good for the weekend, but then Monday comes along. Mondays are the do-it-all-over days when working with children. Same thing, everyday, every week.
People might think that when the last child leaves my day is complete, yet you are forgetting one more. K2 is my pride and joy, yet is also included in my work. I cook dinner and clean up after that, bath, dress and nurse her to sleep. Sleep you might think that is when I can finally have ‘my’ time.
I spend ‘my’ time disinfecting toys, sorting toys and thoroughly cleaning my home. I wash dishes, and sweep floors. I scrub the tubs from paint and gluey hand-prints and find forgotten articles of clothing. I make the beds and clean up whatever is left from that day.
When I look at the time it’s about 1am and I am no where close to being done, so I think I will go on the computer and schedule an entry in my blog. I finish my post, schedule it for a time when people are awake to read and go on to Facebook or the Daycare forum I am on. Then a tiny voice is heard and footsteps coming from the hall.
I am back on duty until there is sleep, yet this time I sleep too, 4 more hours left in my night, then it’s up with the sun to start my Daycare Day. Yes, I choose this, this is my life. I would never take it all back.
I have seen first steps, and heard sleeping giggles, and I am thrilled when they print their first letter. I sing and I teach. I create hope and goals. I encourage and push and I do this for a smile.
I just don’t understand why my work can’t be valid to others, that I have good and bad moment out of a day. My day is a roller-coaster of emotion and happenings. Can’t you also say that about yours?
I work with the Little People, children in your words. I do what I can to fill in the mothering needs these people have when their parents are off to work. I don’t understand how this is not important, how this job is not extremely hard.
Validation is all I need. Call me like you did when I worked at the office. Ask me about my day, thank me for what I do for our family and the children, and note my accomplishments. Even though getting a child to eat is very small to you.
When you walk on the floors after I wash them or disorganize the organized house, it’s like someone at your job, ripping up your report you spent a month on, or giving you a demotion. When you walk away from my ‘story’ of my day, it’s telling me I do not matter. When you pick up your child note something that I did right today, because I love your child but at times I feel I do nothing right and want to give up.