This working thing is… well, full-time was always going to be a problem. I said I could handle anything for two weeks, but we’re heading into week four now. The Sniglet is getting into trouble at school, and one of my extensive network of spies* saw him jaywalking across the intercity highway that bisects OurTown, so now he needs to be taken to and fetched from school.
So if they’ll let me work part-time I may keep up with it, but otherwise, this is my last week. One of my co-workers is more or less in my situation, though her kids are older, and she says she’s been looking for part-time work for years – they don’t want us. Employers don’t want late-30-, early 40-something moms who can only put in half a day and that only when none of the kids are sick and it isn’t one of the state’s bewildering array of school holidays. With my range of skills I could probably find more flexible work in Munich, but I don’t live there, I live here.
We moved here for the kids. If we stay here, which is certainly what would be best for them, I have to accept that I’ll be just-a-housewife for quite awhile yet.
I’d feel better about this if I weren’t such a sucky housewife.
* I haven’t made a lot of friends here, but after six years in this town there are other hockey moms, soccer moms, tae kwon do moms, shopkeepers I see every week, neighbors from two different neighborhoods, fellow moms from two sons’ worth of kindergarten, elementary school and junior high – probably a third of the town knows me and my sons by sight, so, you know. If there are witnesses, I will find out.
Song du jour of the day: oh, something depressing and existential about reaching middle age and being nowhere that you ever expected to be.