I know I'm going to get lots of hate emails for this (ha, just kidding, no one emails me that reads my blog). In case you are unfamiliar with the acronym SAHM, it stands for "stay at home mom."
Now, don't get me wrong, I know SAHMs do a lot... for the most part. (I've have seen quite a few "SAHMs" who think that means letting your child run rampant while they sleep all day, watch TV or drink/smoke.) Although I don't think we all need to play martyrs and say that we never have a moment to do anything... I'm blogging right now while my 3 kids play... but it's okay, because I'm caught up on the laundry and the dishes... right? Isn't that how I'm supposed to justify spending a little time on me?
But I hate being called a SAHM. For me, it feels like a punishment. I would rather be out doing a job that I love... do I love my kids? Of course, I do! Do they annoy me a lot? Of course, they do! Now, don't sit there saying, "oh, but there are people out there who don't have children who would love to be annoyed..." Gag me. I get it. Poor them.
So, here I find myself stuck at home with my 3 kids this summer and more than likely next fall as well. It is one of those moral dilemmas where I find myself acknowledging that no one else can take care of my children as well as I do, and finding someone I completely trust with Baby H is very difficult. I had someone pretty great last semester, but she had to move to Florida! The next person I found was a weirdo. (Daytime, not evening babysitter). So, I feel as though I must suck it up for the time being and accept this SAHM position, but I don't have to like it. My goal is to finish my MA, which all I have left is the thesis/capstone, so I can teach classes online and substitute teach during the day. But until my youngest is old enough to go to school or I find someone not weird and super reliable, I'm stuck.
I can give you stories from both sides of the coin. Mom A was a SAHM until her last went to school and as all her kids got older, they disrespected her, cursed at her, made her cry and have no real relationship with her as adults. Mom B was a workaholic. Her kids generally didn't see her until 5pm and when she was home she was busy grading papers, reading books... some of her kids were closer to her as adults, but don't remember her being present much as children.
So which is the way to go? Is there a happy medium? Honestly, I think it is all about how you treat your children when you are with them. Good parents are good parents, regardless of the number of hours in a day spent with their kids. I want mine to grow up to be smart, kind, hard-working, good citizens, who are productive members of society. If that means I have to sacrifice sanity and stay at home with them so they aren't subject to the outside influence of lackluster caretakers... then so be it.
Will my kids treat me well as they get older? Only time will tell, but at least I can say that I tried. And then they will turn 18 and I will be free.
Tuesday, June 11, 2013
Thursday, May 9, 2013
Disillusionment & Another Chapter Closed
I would say that before this, I had only experienced disillusionment once in my life. I had a teacher that I adored in middle school. Then she became my boss after high school and I lost all respect for her when I saw her in a different job position. It was sad to think that I had respected her at one point and had I not ended up working for her, I would have never known she wasn't that great of a person.
Well, another chapter in my life is ending, albeit a brief one, that has yet again left me disillusioned. When I went to community college right after high school, I loved it! I loved the atmosphere, the teachers knowing my name, being able to talk to them in the halls and hold stimulating conversations. It led me to realize that I didn't want to teach young kids anymore, I wanted to teacher older kids... then after I received my bachelor's, I decided to get my master's so that I, too, could be a community college teacher and have an experience like that of the ones I had as a student. So, when an opportunity came up for me to teach at the same CC that I went to, I was ecstatic. I uprooted my family and moved back to the community from whence I came.
Boy, was that a mistake!
I was hired as an adjunct and I quickly found out that being an adjunct puts you on the same level as being a window washer on a street corner. It pays pennies and no one respects you. Now, let me say, my boss/supervisor/guy I answered to, is awesome! I love his personality, dedication, yadda yadda. This guy has been given so many tasks that I don't know how his brain doesn't explode.
So this was my fourth semester teaching there. After being hired, I realized that the school sees adjuncts as warm bodies. Other than my boss, I don't think anyone knew my name. I could walk by any employee and they probably assumed I was a student. Adjuncts don't get acknowledged for anything in staff communications, HR congratulatory or with sympathy announcements... we are just worker ants to them. And the pay... wow. Of course it is more than minimum wage, but when you are not allowed to teach more than 8 credit hours (rule for adjuncts), and you can get scheduled to teach anytime during the day, it doesn't give you easy access to have outside jobs.
I drive 17 miles to work and 17 miles home from work to teach one 50 minute class four days a week. I could make more by substitute teaching a few times a month, but guess what, I can't- the class I teach is in the middle of the day. There is a community college about 90 miles away that pays almost double.
And although I love teaching, the lack of respect that I receive in my job is disheartening. I have had two semesters where I loved the students I had (I've taught more than one class a couple semesters). But last spring and this spring, I have had students that make me depressed at the idea of having to be around them every day. Fortunately those are the ones who skip class a lot. I have found that only a handful of students actually care about their education, which is also disheartening.
So, being as this will be my last semester teaching there (I have other things going on that make it seem like the right decision and my boss is retiring), I have decided to post about my disillusionment. A school that I had loved and was so enthusiastic about returning to to teach turned out to be an illusion. When you're on the other side of the table, you see the inner workings of the school and how unhappy so many people are. I'm just a rusty cog in their machine and I wish that I had not had to experience the other side of the operation. I know that every school is probably similar when it comes to adjuncts, but this was MY school. Just like the teacher I mentioned in the beginning, had I not returned to teach at MY school, I would have gone the rest of my life thinking that it was still one of the greatest places to be.
Well, another chapter in my life is ending, albeit a brief one, that has yet again left me disillusioned. When I went to community college right after high school, I loved it! I loved the atmosphere, the teachers knowing my name, being able to talk to them in the halls and hold stimulating conversations. It led me to realize that I didn't want to teach young kids anymore, I wanted to teacher older kids... then after I received my bachelor's, I decided to get my master's so that I, too, could be a community college teacher and have an experience like that of the ones I had as a student. So, when an opportunity came up for me to teach at the same CC that I went to, I was ecstatic. I uprooted my family and moved back to the community from whence I came.
Boy, was that a mistake!
I was hired as an adjunct and I quickly found out that being an adjunct puts you on the same level as being a window washer on a street corner. It pays pennies and no one respects you. Now, let me say, my boss/supervisor/guy I answered to, is awesome! I love his personality, dedication, yadda yadda. This guy has been given so many tasks that I don't know how his brain doesn't explode.
So this was my fourth semester teaching there. After being hired, I realized that the school sees adjuncts as warm bodies. Other than my boss, I don't think anyone knew my name. I could walk by any employee and they probably assumed I was a student. Adjuncts don't get acknowledged for anything in staff communications, HR congratulatory or with sympathy announcements... we are just worker ants to them. And the pay... wow. Of course it is more than minimum wage, but when you are not allowed to teach more than 8 credit hours (rule for adjuncts), and you can get scheduled to teach anytime during the day, it doesn't give you easy access to have outside jobs.
I drive 17 miles to work and 17 miles home from work to teach one 50 minute class four days a week. I could make more by substitute teaching a few times a month, but guess what, I can't- the class I teach is in the middle of the day. There is a community college about 90 miles away that pays almost double.
And although I love teaching, the lack of respect that I receive in my job is disheartening. I have had two semesters where I loved the students I had (I've taught more than one class a couple semesters). But last spring and this spring, I have had students that make me depressed at the idea of having to be around them every day. Fortunately those are the ones who skip class a lot. I have found that only a handful of students actually care about their education, which is also disheartening.
So, being as this will be my last semester teaching there (I have other things going on that make it seem like the right decision and my boss is retiring), I have decided to post about my disillusionment. A school that I had loved and was so enthusiastic about returning to to teach turned out to be an illusion. When you're on the other side of the table, you see the inner workings of the school and how unhappy so many people are. I'm just a rusty cog in their machine and I wish that I had not had to experience the other side of the operation. I know that every school is probably similar when it comes to adjuncts, but this was MY school. Just like the teacher I mentioned in the beginning, had I not returned to teach at MY school, I would have gone the rest of my life thinking that it was still one of the greatest places to be.
Monday, April 8, 2013
Stand back, I'mma gonna unload!
I'm not a huge proponent of airing dirty laundry on the internet. I don't mind giving my opinion, but I try not to do any mudslinging. This MIGHT be an exception...
It has often been insinuated (and flat out said) that I met my current husband while I was still with my ex-husband. In fact, small minds put big ideas in my ex-husband's sensitive ears telling him that I had to have cheated on him. But here is the true story of the three little pigs... or whatever:
About a year before we split for good, my husband moved out for 2 months. Guess how many people in my family knew: ZERO. Guess how many people in his family knew: two? I think his sister and grandma knew. We just didn't want to hear anyone's opinions and felt it was best to figure things out from there. He moved back in after a couple months, but it was soon apparent that things were never going to get better and it ended up being more of a roommate situation.
Anyway, fast forward to summer of 2010. I had finished my first year of my master's degree and had started losing weight and gaining confidence and self esteem. I auditioned for a local play and realized that there was so much more to life than the depressive existence I was leading. When I wasn't at home, I was truly happy. I had friends, I had motivation and ambition to succeed in life, and I realized that to be a good mom, things were going to have to change. So, I let my husband know that it was over for good. I told my mom like the next day, but I don't think I told anyone else. I knew it was over... I'd known it was over for YEARS.
What is hard, is not having any support. I didn't have any friends that I could really rely on at the time and there was no way that any of my family was going to willingly help me out. I had no one. So, I figured that we would share the house and my ex-husband agreed he would move out so I could stay in the home with the kids... but a month went by... he was still there... two months went by... he was still there... things got hostile, my kids were being exposed to things they didn't need to be and living in a small town with loose lips and people who needed hobbies made it really hard for me to keep going. I knew that if I wanted to really be out, I was going to have to go.
So, I did. I haven't regretted it since. My kids are thriving, smart, happy and great students. I am happy, my ex is happy, I am working in my dream job and things are going so great.
Apparently what comes into question about my current husband is when we met and started dating. We MET about a month after I left my ex. We didn't become a couple until six months later. I knew he was a good guy, but I also knew that I needed to figure out what I wanted in life and what I needed to do to be happy. But more importantly, I had to figure out how to bring my kids out of a divorce unscathed. I was not looking for a relationship, but apparently fate wanted me to meet David. Life's too short to wait for the things that you know you want and maybe we didn't wait 3 years to get married or anything, but I think that the decisions I have made in the past couple years have been the best I could make for myself and my kids.
So there's the story. I don't actually need to justify my actions, but after it was brought up again recently, I just thought I'd throw it out there to the millions and millions (kidding) of people who read my blog.
Girl power!
It has often been insinuated (and flat out said) that I met my current husband while I was still with my ex-husband. In fact, small minds put big ideas in my ex-husband's sensitive ears telling him that I had to have cheated on him. But here is the true story of the three little pigs... or whatever:
About a year before we split for good, my husband moved out for 2 months. Guess how many people in my family knew: ZERO. Guess how many people in his family knew: two? I think his sister and grandma knew. We just didn't want to hear anyone's opinions and felt it was best to figure things out from there. He moved back in after a couple months, but it was soon apparent that things were never going to get better and it ended up being more of a roommate situation.
Anyway, fast forward to summer of 2010. I had finished my first year of my master's degree and had started losing weight and gaining confidence and self esteem. I auditioned for a local play and realized that there was so much more to life than the depressive existence I was leading. When I wasn't at home, I was truly happy. I had friends, I had motivation and ambition to succeed in life, and I realized that to be a good mom, things were going to have to change. So, I let my husband know that it was over for good. I told my mom like the next day, but I don't think I told anyone else. I knew it was over... I'd known it was over for YEARS.
What is hard, is not having any support. I didn't have any friends that I could really rely on at the time and there was no way that any of my family was going to willingly help me out. I had no one. So, I figured that we would share the house and my ex-husband agreed he would move out so I could stay in the home with the kids... but a month went by... he was still there... two months went by... he was still there... things got hostile, my kids were being exposed to things they didn't need to be and living in a small town with loose lips and people who needed hobbies made it really hard for me to keep going. I knew that if I wanted to really be out, I was going to have to go.
So, I did. I haven't regretted it since. My kids are thriving, smart, happy and great students. I am happy, my ex is happy, I am working in my dream job and things are going so great.
Apparently what comes into question about my current husband is when we met and started dating. We MET about a month after I left my ex. We didn't become a couple until six months later. I knew he was a good guy, but I also knew that I needed to figure out what I wanted in life and what I needed to do to be happy. But more importantly, I had to figure out how to bring my kids out of a divorce unscathed. I was not looking for a relationship, but apparently fate wanted me to meet David. Life's too short to wait for the things that you know you want and maybe we didn't wait 3 years to get married or anything, but I think that the decisions I have made in the past couple years have been the best I could make for myself and my kids.
So there's the story. I don't actually need to justify my actions, but after it was brought up again recently, I just thought I'd throw it out there to the millions and millions (kidding) of people who read my blog.
Girl power!
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