From Motherhood and Student-hood to Motherhood and Teaching

I had almost decided to shut down this blog. Then decided that I need a place to write, even if no one is reading anymore.

I've treasured the time that I've had with my daughter since I've gone back to finish my degree. I feel like I've gotten to sneak in some extra hours at the park or playing games with her that typical working moms don't get to. At least I didn't when I worked.

Now, as I'm readying myself to enter the full-time work force, I wonder what kinds of sacrifices I'll have to make with family time. Will I have to be at the school for hours while she waits in boredom? Will she despise the profession of education as I despise the profession of business because of all the time she'll have to spend there? Or will she not want to attend college because she'll remember all the nights I've had to tell her that "Mommy's working on a paper right now; please, please, please, please go play in the OTHER room, now"?

Or will she continue the path that she's on? She pretends to teach me, her dolls, her stuffed animals, and her invisible friends, which I hope is a completely normal stage for a girl being raised as an only child. Maybe she'll be a teacher.

What will change next school year when she's in kindergarten? Will she learn all the concepts that I've worked so hard to shelter her from? Will she get special treatment because her mother's a teacher in the district? I hope not. This will not help her princess attitude in the least.

With the random selection of undergraduate classes that I'm enrolled in for the semester comes a new group of faces that I've never had classes with before. Some of them were born after I began kindergarten. Really. Some of them are closer to my age though. By a year or two. Some of them are obnoxious. Some of them are sweet. A few of them I'll even attempt to "friend" on facebook. These few are the ones in my lone English class this semester. They are young, nosey, and think they know everything about life. Like I was 5 or 6 years ago.

The braver of the few has asked me about my life. "Is that hard?" she asks of being a single mom. "YES!" I want to scream, but I'm afraid that my hasty answer will scare her away from motherhood forever. It's not that bad. It's just that being a single mother complicates things. It brings on guilt and burdens that mothers in nuclear families probably don't have. Maybe they do--they're just better at masking it than I am. Or maybe they don't have mothers who guilt trip them anytime they need a night out. Maybe.

Back to the braver of the few. She asked me about how hard it is to be a single mom. "It's tough, I'm not gonna lie," I tell her, "but I wouldn't trade it for the world," which is the truth. I told her that honestly I don't know what I would be doing without my daughter in my life right now. Working at Sonic still? I wouldn't have given up the kind of life I was living. It was fun. But everything changed when I saw the plus sign. + started my family. I just wish it wasn't so complicated for her sake.