This morning was one of those mornings I feel torn between my career and my family, selfish for liking my job.
Walker woke up in an awful mood (one of the wonderful traits he inherited from his mother) and didn’t want to go to school. His tummy hurt and he didn’t want to get dressed, brush his teeth - do anything really that would propel us closer to getting out the door.
Finally, we successfully checked the morning to-dos off the list and we were backing out the driveway, only one minute behind schedule, according to the car clock.
“Mommie, why do I have to go to after school. I don’t like after school. Why can’t you pick me up in the carpool?”
I feel it right in the gut, all I hear is “Mommie, why can’t you pick me up like the other kids that get picked up in the carpool lane?”
Then I proceed to tell him how much I know he loves after school and how some of his friends wish they could go to after school but they can’t and how he will get to see his girlfriend Sydney and will get to play with her…
“But mommmmmmmieeeeeee, I don’t want to go to after school. It’s boooooooooring.”
There wasn’t really much else to say. I chalked it up to the bad mood, flipped on some KidzBop and we jammed the rest of the way to school.
This afternoon when I pick him up, he’ll talk about how much fun he had in after school and tomorrow he will tell me he doesn’t want daddy to pick him up early because he wants to go to after school.
But I’ll still have the ever-present mommy guilt, constantly torn between what’s good for him and what’s good for our family. Wondering if the choices I make today are right for our tomorrow. And as all mommies know, the mommie guilt stays and lingers, long after the kids have moved on to the next thing.