I popped open my email yesterday and clicked on the new work schedule for next week. I was very disappointed to see that another weekend has me working 5 hours both Saturday and Sunday.
This was frustrating for a couple of reasons. First, I had specifically asked to not be scheduled for both weekend days on this particular weekend. It’s opening weekend for the Orioles, and my husband will be working, probably all day, on both of those days. Which means finding childcare for my 3 kids for 2 days. While I do have my in-laws right down the street who are more than willing to hang out with my kids…it isn’t my intention to make them my permanent babysitters. They have a life of their own and things they want to do and I don’t think its fair to assume I can dump them at their house any time I need a sitter. I’m sure they will be happy to watch them on one of those days, but I will need to try to find somewhere for them to go on the other. This is a headache that I will have to sort out. Which is why I’d asked for it not to happen.
The other reason why this made me upset was because working on both weekend days really screws up family time. Normally, Bill is off, and he hangs out with the kids, which is great, but I’d like to hang out too. With him, with all of us together. Working 5 hours smack in the middle of both Saturday and Sunday really kills the weekend. I was tearing up thinking about how I was going to spend another weekend away from my family. I like the people I work with but if I had to choose…well, you know who I’m going to choose I hope.
Someone starts fussing with a sibling. Someone is doing something annoying. Whining. Not listening.
And I think “2 days away from all this nonsense where someone else has to deal with it. I’LL TAKE IT.”
All within the same 15 minute span of time I go from being sad about being away from my kids to thinking being away from my kids (and getting paid to do it!) is a bargain.
And that, my friends, is the roller-coaster ride that is being a parent.