I can’t commute to work if I live here, right?
On April 1, 2016, I quit my job. I scared the crap out of my husband (don’t worry we did discuss it, but I wasn’t going to be swayed). I was running on a hamster wheel, and felt as if I wouldn’t survive. I had a great job (that I liked), a beautiful family, and my mental health was gone. I was constantly stressed, hurrying to get things done, and lived with so my guilt of not “raising” my baby. The odd thing… my mom was a working-mom, and I swore I would be the same. I have so much respect for career women, and I know they are raising their children. I couldn’t pinpoint why I felt the need to leave my career after working soooooo hard to get where I was… I blame the pregnancy hormones for this change. Those hormones are no joke.
Fortunately, my husband didn’t resist too much (it wasn’t a hard no); however I honestly didn’t give him much of a choice. The first couple years of staying home were hard. There are so many things I didn’t realize would become my responsibility. I am the controller of all things under this roof… baby, bills, budget, meals, chores, errands, schedule, life, health care, entertainment, laundromat, organizer… I’m sure there are more hats that I wear, but due to mommy-brain I can’t remember.
This blog was started because I went through a difficult time dealing with all those emotions. I have since repurposed it, as no one wants to hear you complain. This will be filled with easy recipes, time-lapse cleaning and organization, child-friendly entertainment, and my banter. I’m a beginner, so be gentle. My spelling and grammar are not perfect, so don’t be a “Karen” (sorry nice Karens, but I didn’t make it up). Like all things in life, this blog is not perfect, but it is me.