I feel horribly guilty. As I’m whining about missing Buddha, I’m also looking for a way out. I love my job. I really do. I get paid to play for cripe’s sake! And I love those little ones more than I ever thought humanly possible. But I need more than that now. And I’m currently being interviewed for a nanny job in New York that has health benefits and use of a car as well as a 50% raise from what I’m currently earning now. The fact is, ten dollars an hour is crap. What’s horrible is, I know that some people literally live on half of that. But I’m working my ass off being mom to these children, being a marital buffer to the parents and not earning nearly enough to pay the bills and actually have any spending money. This job would not only give me a change of scenery but I’d get a lot more perks as well. But I’m torn. All of my babies are here. My parents still live here. And while I do like to pretend to be a tough-ass, independent chick, I do occasionally enjoy having my mommy take care of me. I figure, I spend my days taking care of other people’s children, I deserve to go home and get a little TLC of my own. Furthermore, I just don’t know how I could handle being away from my little Buddha. I overly gush, I know, but I truly love that child. Also, I shudder to think how neurotic he’ll be by his first birthday if he spends too much time with his mother. I know they say they “need” me but I also know they are far more capable of child rearing than they think. And if they do absolutely need a replacement, I’m sure my sister will gladly take over. She wouldn’t be able to fulfill as many hours as I do because of her school schedule but it’d be enough to keep Mrs. P on this side of insanity. Yes, they’d be sad but they’d get over it. They were parents before me and than can be parents again, once I leave. If I took this job though, I’d have to leave the first week of September, which means I’d miss Bunny’s fifth birthday and then Buddha’s first in October. I’ve been working on elaborate birthday presents for the both of them for months now. I can’t imagine not being there to celebrate with them. And it’s New York! I lived there for two years a decade ago. I hardly remember it and while I do have a bit of extended family in the city, I would be, for all intents and purposes, alone. By myself. For the first time in really, forever. And that’s scary. A lot scarier than I’d like to admit, actually. So I’m stuck. Vacillating endlessly. But the deadline is looming. Should I or should I not take this job? Should I stay here with the family I adore (and occasionally detest) earning the same old paycheck, constantly driving on a nearly empty tank of gas or should I go, take a risk, be independant and see if this new opportunity could work out?
Boy do I miss the days when things were either good or bad. You either made a right choice or a wrong choice.
But alas, I have two choices in front of me now. The proverbial fork in the road. And I’m sitting right in the middle, unsure of where to go. One moment I’m sure I want to go to NY and the next I’m cowering at the idea. I just. Don’t. Know.
And I’m beginning to realize that I’m much better at taking care of other people’s children than I am at taking care of myself.
Growing up sucks.