Choosing Between Work and Family

Ever since Zachary was born, I've been blessed to be able to work from home three to four days per week.  This was a huge accommodation from my boss; there's no one else in the organization who is allowed to work my kind of schedule.  It's even more extraordinary that my boss allowed me to do this given that I am his senior attorney, so I still have to supervise more junior attorneys.  But because our staff was more experienced and didn't need daily hand holding, and because g-chat allows me to be instantly in touch with those in my office, my schedule didn't really impact anyone.

But I just got an email yesterday from my boss who has informed me that his needs have changed, and he needs a senior attorney who is in the office on a daily basis.  We're anticipating getting one to two new attorneys in the near future, and especially because he works remotely, he needs his senior person to act as his physical presence.  Therefore, he gave me the option to either come back to the office full time after my maternity leave, or take a demotion and continue to work from home in a non-supervisory capacity.

I like my job, my coworkers, and my boss, but when I go into the office, my day starts at 5 am and I'm not home until 6:30.  When I work from home, I'm in front of my computer at 9 and I'm out by around 4.  Thus, my days at home afford me an additional 6 or more hours to spend with my family.  However, taking a demotion would mean taking about a $7000 pay cut, and because of the way the government pay scale works, I would not be able to get a raise again (but if the federal pay freeze ends, I'll still be entitled to yearly cost-of-living increases).  And one of the worst parts is that taking a demotion would be career suicide.

In a way, this is a fairly easy decision.  My work does not define me. I was not one of those people who knew they wanted to be an attorney all of their lives; rather, I became one because I didn't know what else to do.  My kids, on the other hand, have filled the holes I'd been carrying my entire life.  Time with them -- although admittedly sometimes frustrating, sometimes boring, and sometimes unrewarding -- still make my life infinitely better and more meaningful.  I choose them.  Nevertheless, I'm sad that I have to make the choice.

I just need a job where I can work whenever I feel like it.  One that more than pays the bills.  Is that really too much to ask?

Home Alone

The last of my helpers left this weekend, and I've been essentially alone with the babies for the last three days.  Even with Zachary at daycare during the day, it has been, as I expected, challenging.  But I've managed to give the babies baths once, and feed them countless times, sometimes even simultaneously.  Thankfully, there have been only a handful of times when two or three of us have been melting down at the same time.  Still, I've been wearing the same workout pants for three days and there is dried breastmilk on the front of my shirt and crusted spit up on my shoulder.  And sometimes I'm sad, and sometimes I'm lonely, and I'm almost always tired.

But a few minutes ago, I had finished feeding both babies, set one squirmy Conor in a bouncy chair, and a squirmy Samantha on my chest.  She fell asleep within minutes, and I put her in her swing.  I then held Conor, and he too fell asleep within minutes.  And I was overflowing with love and gratitude for my children.

Things are getting better.

I'm Boring Myself

I started writing this post in my mind on multiple occasions.  I couldn't bring myself to write it, however, because it's just so damn boring.  Here's the gist:  Even though it's been almost a month since the babies were born, things are still difficult. 'Nuff said.

This is what the lack of sleep does to my husband.

And with that, here are some pictures to catch you up on what's been happening over the last couple of weeks.

The babies had their first sponge bath at home:

Samantha

Conor

This picture makes me so happy! Samantha, I'm laughing with your 'fro, not at it.

Parti and Parta were here for three weeks and just left on Saturday.  During that time, Parta got over his fear of fragile babies.  Somewhat.

 Parti spent a lot of time making sure Zachary didn't feel ignored.

This was the view from my post-partum bedrest.

She still managed to spend a lot of time with the babies, clean my house, and make dinner nightly.  Show off.

 The babies turned three weeks old but remained tiny (both are still under 7 lbs):

 Zachary played "slam dunk" in his new pool:

And Roar went to a leadership camp at Yale and had a great time.  The first thing he said about his experience at arguably the best school in the country:  "The food was good!"  

He LOVES when his mama takes pictures of him.

Nonna and Pop are here this week to help (pictures to come), and then I'm on my own.  Heaven help me.