It has been just over a month, I guess, since a replacement has been hired for my position at work. What a relief that was!
From about April until June, I was in this limbo mode. First off, I was sick. A first-trimester pregnancy kind of sickness which meant that I hardly had enough stamina to make sure my kid didn't stick his tongue in the electrical outlet or eat a paperclip off the floor, let alone go to the office and try to chase around a baby there while "getting work done."
Secondly, I knew I would be leaving, which meant, starting new programs was pointless, the old programs were just about finished, and everytime I thought about going in, I began to wonder, what is it I am supposed to be doing in this time anyways? It was this weird waiting game. I didn't like it, and not many around the office did either: "What's going on with you?" "Are you gone already?"
What the last few months of time at work were, was really the natural conclusion of what had been going on all year: babies require time. Family life requires presence. My parish can hire a new DCM, but I am the only Mommy and wife my family has. I began to realize that the more I tried to cook meals, keep the house cleaner, take care of the finances, accomodate my son's sleeping needs, be a good teacher/play-buddy to my son, and companion to my husband, there just wasn't enough of me to go around.
The writing had been on the wall for a while. Sure, in the Fall, I was able to run some events. In the Winter, I was on top of teaching my classes, but everyone started to see my ability to commit was waning:
"You say the meeting is at 6? I'm sorry, I can't make it, that's when we start getting the baby ready for bed."
"There's a staff meeting at 2? Oh man, I don't think I can come, that's when the baby takes his only nap of the day. If I miss it, it's going to be bad."
"The baby is too loud? You want me to spend the class standing outside? I'm sorry, I'm not going to get the baby all ready to get out of the house only to spend the whole time outside, not being present. I'd better just stay at home."
This became a mantra. I felt bad, but couldn't do much about it without compromising the baby's schedule, and in my opinion, hiswell-being (not an option) or hire someone to watch him on a regular basis while I take care of work. Not something we wanted to do.
Then came Matthew: a great reason to easily do what was needing to be done all along: pass on the baton. No one gets fired, no one quits without a good reason...just a happy conclusion to the story the parish needs someone with a full-time availability...and so does my family.
As I talk with the new DCM, I couldn't be more excited for the parish. He's full of energy, experience, great people skills, and a love for the Church. He has shared with me some of his ideas, and changes he has made and these conversations have been great because it just solidifies what is obvious: my time is over there, and it's time for someone new.
Yet, these conversations aren't without their sting too. It has become clear how much the job requires, and how my ability to give couldn't match that. My first year there was full of energy, promise, and availability. I was single, ambitious, and there for pretty much everything. My second year, I was married. Hey, I want to be home at 9:30 and not cleaning up coffee grounds and stacking chairs. It's the weekend, and instead of making sure someone didn't steal a pencil from the parish school, I wanted to be going to a movie with my husband.
But come November of that year, a new drama unfolded: the coming of baby Michael. Between the sickness, the exhaustion, swelling, and a couple trips to the hospital, I realized that the person that was working her tail off the year before just didn't exist in the same capacity...and didn't really want to.
Year number 3...well, it wasn't the beginning of the end. It was just the end. It wasn't just the time I no longer had, but it was the zeal. Of course, I still loved to teach. Of course, I still loved to help people get the sacraments, but my tolerance for the "other stuff" just plummetted.
I handled diplomatic issues with skill and grace, I thought....but once the baby came, it all seemed so silly to me. If I want to deal with someone who acts like they are one, or cries when you take something they want, or tell them "no"...I'll stay home! I began to appreciate that when there was crap to deal with at work, there was this game that had to be played. When there was crap to deal with at home....I just change the diaper and it's done.
Not that there was much of it going on at work. It's a GREAT place to work, with loving people, a great boss, etc, etc, but...there were some issues. Issues that still aren't resolved, and those began to wear on me more than they would have my first year. I purposely filled what time I could give, with things that didn't seem petty, things I thought could directly impact a person in need of the gospel...I see now that while my intentions were good, a lot of other things went neglected.
As these unresolved issues are passed on to my successor, or as things that just couldn't get my attention are now being tended to by someone who can give it his all, it makes me happy, and sad at the same time. I loved that job. I wanted to be great at it. I wanted to give it my all, I wanted to build something there. And it is a hard thing to hand on something I loved so much in such a state of incompleteness. I felt like I had a lot of explaining to do, I guess I still do. Look how long this post is already!
It took a few days of deep reflection to accept, and try to be thankful for the opportunity for humility, that, while I wasn't perfect, I also had legitimate reasons for not being able to give it my all.
Having few regrets about Michael's first year....how little time we actually had to spend apart, how hard I tried to take him with me...and how, in the end, I can honestly say I just tried to put my family first, I try not to beat myself up too much.
I wonder, maybe I should have cut the ties completely before Michael was born. Maybe, I should have gone on maternity leave and not come back. Even though someone else could have done a better job than my half-time-sleep-deprived-trying-to-get-this-kid-to-nap-oops!-Now-I'm-pregnant again-tired-morning-sick absent-mindedness...God must have intended that I stay for that time.
Maybe someone learned something , and that one thing was critical to some part of God's great design.
Of course, if I had left last year, then the DCM the parish hired wouldn't have been looking for a position, and someone else would have ended up with job...I don't know him well, but I can say from the times we have talked, that he is just what the parish needs...so I guess it's good I kept the seat warm until he got there.
But maybe, it was for me. Maybe, if I had quit when Michael came, I would have felt like I was giving up my job. Maybe I would have regretted leaving it behind. Maybe I would have longed to be doing the job I loved so much. Not knowing what it is like to be a mom, maybe I would have somehow "blamed" him for cutting short what I wanted to be a career.
Instead, the exact opposite happened. I longed to be home with him without feeling like I should be doing something else. I was burdened between two guilts: the guilt of not giving my job enough, and the guilt of taking the baby here and there, interrupting this nap and that nap just to try to work. When I was feeling good about work, I was feeling bad about my mothering. When I was feeling good about the mothering, I felt guilty about work.
What I learned is that no matter how great my job was, with great people, and so rewarding....I love just being a Mommy even more. I love just being "still" with my family. I love watching Michael play with something, being totally enraptured for 15 minutes at a time, without constantly watching the clock thinking, I need to get going. I love playing hide and go seek, or finding something that makes him laugh and knowing I don't need to put a limit on how long this goes on for. I love not stressing because he's napping until 4, rather than 2:30 like I had "scheduled."
Maybe I needed to learn that this is where my happiness was, and God knew that trying to straddle the fence was the way to teach me where my heart really wanted to be.
I guess all of these "maybes" can be true all at once. God only knows why the timing worked out the way it did. I am just happy they did work out this way. Sure, I'll be stretched way more in terms of patience than I was in the office. Sure, I don't really get sick days, or vacations. Sure, I'm on call all the time. Sure, the days can get kind of lonely. Sure, I'll have to be politically savvy, a great negotiator, motivator, manager. I'll have to be discplined, consistent, clear-thinking, firm, yet kind. Sure, I'll deal with irrationality, whining, tantrums, stubborness, willful disobedience. Sure, I may not get lots of thank yous, or "well dones."And the amount of time that I can claim as "my own" dwindles with each day, and with each addition to our family. Sure...all those things, and more, are probably true.
But in all of that, I honestly and completely echo the sentiments of my wonderful doctor when he congratulated me on our second pregnancy. He asked what that would mean for the job I had and I explained I would be staying home with the kids.
He shook my hand, smiled and said, "Congratulations! You've been promoted."
