On the last Friday in August, every year, my kids daycare does a “carnival” at the school. It’s a fun afternoon with face painting, balloons, and special treats.

I’ve had it on my calendar for months. Held to be out of the office and present for the afternoon with my babies.

I even started work an hour early to make sure I’d be ready.

Then….

The meeting that was supposed to be 30 minutes became 90.

The inbox I had gotten down to just ten little emails became overflowing with unread demands.

All the progress I’d made all week, in anticipation of being able to leave early to be with my kids vanished.

Rather than the beautiful pinkish-red of out of office, my Teams icon remained transparent green, indicating to everyone I was supposed to be out of office, but wasn’t.

By the time I was able to wrap up and get to daycare, at 4:50, my two boys were sitting sadly on the playground with only one other friend from my older son’s class and a small baby.

Another mom was also rolling in on two wheels and we exchanged that ever knowing look.

Are we bad parents?

By the time we got home it was the mad dash for supper, tubby, and getting ready for bed. The only saving grace for me with my 3 year old was that on Friday we watch a movie in my bed, with popcorn. Even that was delayed by my late pick up, but none the less he happily cuddled in with me and watched and munched.

As we sat there watching our movie and snacking on our microwave popcorn, I cursed my need for a job.

What’s the point of all this?

How did I allow my afternoon to be taken up by a bunch of people who would replace me in seconds if I couldn’t do my job?

What am I trading my time for? And what am I missing as a result.

There have been so many moments since Ollie was born in 2022 that I’ve struggled with my career. I like my job – a lot – but it’s demanding.

Emotionally.

Physically.

It’s one of those things that never really turns off.

I’ve struggled with wishing I’d been less ambitious early on, so I’d still be further behind in my career.

I’ve wished that it hadn’t taken so long to get pregnant in the first place so we would have had a better chance at me staying home.

I’ve resented my friends who get to leave work, even temporarily, to be with their littles at this magical, stressful, beautiful, exhausting stage.

But then, I realize…..

Without my job, my income, we wouldn’t have a comfortable home to be living in.

If I didn’t work, our budget would be uncomfortably tight.

And, another thought….

My babies still love me. Home gives me another purpose, and a place to be myself in.

With my boys along side me, there is so much more fun and excitement than I could ever imagine & they don’t mind that I’m with them less than I’d like to be. They only care that I’m there when I am.

Finding balance isn’t easy.

I still feel massive guilt and sadness when I miss things thanks to an unexpected schedule change.

But at the end of it all, I am still allowed to cherish my babies. I can still snuggle in at night with them, over a home cooked dinner, and know that I am giving them what they need.

What a blessing it is to be a mom. 💙