Limping Towards Retirement
Apparently I'm retired. I had no idea! I do six loads of laundry a week, feed the dogs, the fish and the cat, cook dinners, make lunches and beds, clean, go to school conferences, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera! Yep, I'm retired alright. I have so much free time I'm thinking of volunteering my life away. I wish. At least then I might actually get out of the house for more than the 45 minute, weekday pickup process at the middle school. The Mom retirement syndrome does not exist in the world of the older Mom.
Three years ago I left the work force for third, and apparently, last time. Shortly after baby one, I stayed home because I couldn't imagine giving one hundred percent of myself at work AND at home. When my daughter was eight, I rejoined the force, again, knowing that I was close to home and with a company that supported the parenting gig. With baby two, I also went back home. Both lifestyles had their pros and cons. Staying home is lonely, exhausting and you wonder if you'll ever have an adult conversation again, but being with your own children and seeing all of the firsts that come along, make the mundane almost non-existent. Working outside of the home, well, you get your adult conversations, a feeling of self-worth that comes with a paycheck, but you often want to hide once you get home, because, let's face it, you know the more demanding job is about to begin.
After my son was old enough, I hit the work force once again. Let me just say, three strikes and I was out. The amount of overtime was eating into what little home time I would have with my children before they went off to bed, and I was guilt ridden both on the job and at home. The hubby and I sat down, worked a strict budget, and I came back home for what I hope is the last time. Honestly, with one in college and one in middle school (Nope, it wasn't planned that way.), we couldn't afford to hire a person to do all of the things that come up in a day, requiring one to drop and run. Yet somehow, I'm retired.
When I left my last job, at the delicate age of 56, there were those who congratulated me on my early retirement. I guess they thought I was having an episode as my eyes glazed over and I reached for a chair. The thought that I was at an age where I may no longer be hired right off the interview had me mourning, just a bit. Then I came home and hit the ground running. When people would ask me what I did for a living, I'd tell them I was back at being a stay at home mom. That's when I'd get the look that said, "Oh, just a stay at home mom." When I worked outside the home and answered the question with what I did for a living, there were people who actually asked, "But, what about your children?" It's a lose, lose situation.
On April 15th of this year, my husband informed me that he had listed me as retired on our taxes. I pretty much laughed right in his sweet, ever-loving face. Bless his heart. Yes, I know what he meant, and yet, the funny thing is the new look I get from some, when I say, "I'm retired." A couple of people have acted surprised and said, "But, you look much too young to be retired!" That's when I hugged them and declared my adoration towards them forevah! On the downside, a peer actually told me, "It's wonderful that you fulfilled a career, and now you can stay at home with your grandson!" Uh, that's my son, and right now I don't feel too fulfilled, is what I wanted to say, but Mama always said to be gracious.
Here's the thing, moms and single parents everywhere NEVAH stop working. Yes, the hubby is my right arm, and I know he's put up with more than my night sweats and scintillating humor, but I also know what it is to care, nurture and put every one's schedule above your own. In my supposed retirement, the next ten years will still require getting one child out of college, getting one into high school, out of high school and in and out of college, along with the feeding, cooking, cleaning and errands that are required of the non-monetarily compensated individuals who are graced to stay home and play the Mom Card. I wear it well, sometimes a little crooked, but I haven't seen that pesky retirement card yet.
Three years ago I left the work force for third, and apparently, last time. Shortly after baby one, I stayed home because I couldn't imagine giving one hundred percent of myself at work AND at home. When my daughter was eight, I rejoined the force, again, knowing that I was close to home and with a company that supported the parenting gig. With baby two, I also went back home. Both lifestyles had their pros and cons. Staying home is lonely, exhausting and you wonder if you'll ever have an adult conversation again, but being with your own children and seeing all of the firsts that come along, make the mundane almost non-existent. Working outside of the home, well, you get your adult conversations, a feeling of self-worth that comes with a paycheck, but you often want to hide once you get home, because, let's face it, you know the more demanding job is about to begin.
After my son was old enough, I hit the work force once again. Let me just say, three strikes and I was out. The amount of overtime was eating into what little home time I would have with my children before they went off to bed, and I was guilt ridden both on the job and at home. The hubby and I sat down, worked a strict budget, and I came back home for what I hope is the last time. Honestly, with one in college and one in middle school (Nope, it wasn't planned that way.), we couldn't afford to hire a person to do all of the things that come up in a day, requiring one to drop and run. Yet somehow, I'm retired.
When I left my last job, at the delicate age of 56, there were those who congratulated me on my early retirement. I guess they thought I was having an episode as my eyes glazed over and I reached for a chair. The thought that I was at an age where I may no longer be hired right off the interview had me mourning, just a bit. Then I came home and hit the ground running. When people would ask me what I did for a living, I'd tell them I was back at being a stay at home mom. That's when I'd get the look that said, "Oh, just a stay at home mom." When I worked outside the home and answered the question with what I did for a living, there were people who actually asked, "But, what about your children?" It's a lose, lose situation.
On April 15th of this year, my husband informed me that he had listed me as retired on our taxes. I pretty much laughed right in his sweet, ever-loving face. Bless his heart. Yes, I know what he meant, and yet, the funny thing is the new look I get from some, when I say, "I'm retired." A couple of people have acted surprised and said, "But, you look much too young to be retired!" That's when I hugged them and declared my adoration towards them forevah! On the downside, a peer actually told me, "It's wonderful that you fulfilled a career, and now you can stay at home with your grandson!" Uh, that's my son, and right now I don't feel too fulfilled, is what I wanted to say, but Mama always said to be gracious.
Here's the thing, moms and single parents everywhere NEVAH stop working. Yes, the hubby is my right arm, and I know he's put up with more than my night sweats and scintillating humor, but I also know what it is to care, nurture and put every one's schedule above your own. In my supposed retirement, the next ten years will still require getting one child out of college, getting one into high school, out of high school and in and out of college, along with the feeding, cooking, cleaning and errands that are required of the non-monetarily compensated individuals who are graced to stay home and play the Mom Card. I wear it well, sometimes a little crooked, but I haven't seen that pesky retirement card yet.
Mary I sure do love you...I'm right there with you my dear...
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