Opposite Ends of the Spectrum

As I ponder this next job change, I catch myself wondering about trading places with my husband. I find myself pondering either working full-time as an executive in charge or staying home with the kids. It seems odd to me that I am thinking of such extremes, but if I'm going to go through a change, I want to consider the avenues.

When I think of a job change, I imagine a job that would fully support the family and that my husband would quit working. Yes, I've talked to him. Right now, he works for money and for satisfaction. But would he still work for just satisfaction or could I ever make enough to convince him that it is not for money? He admits that he doesn't want to work full-time. He also admits that if he works full-time that he'll be away from home more than me.

It made me realize that a 40 hour week for me is different than a 40 hour week for him. That I maintain work boundaries, as far as time, more than he does. I do, however, bring home the work stress more than he does, which isn't any better than working long hours in many cases.

I think I'm ready for a change, I know I can do it, and I'm beginning to realize that it can be on my terms. The real me is going to be great at this. The real me will be fulfilled. The real me will maintain boundaries. The real me will still miss some things though. I can't make every parent-teacher conference and every school play, doctor appointment, sick day at home, etc. But if I can make it possible that my husband is there, then I will have provided for my family.

I Quit

Okay, not yet, but the wheels are being put in motion.

My 80 year-old mentors told me to quit this summer and today my therapist told me to quit. I don't need a heck of a lot more encouragement than that. I will spend the next six months clarifying my goals, casting my net and leaving my job.

Next stop, big boss. . . .

WTF

What the . . . .

That's all I have to say today. After a month long investigation into ethics concerns surrounding my boss, he got a review and a raise today.

I had hoped he would be fired, and then resigned myself to him getting his hand slapped. Seems like he got rewarded.

Now I am at a crossroads and feel the need to leave, now more than ever. How can an elected board condone such behavior??? How can those who represent the taxpayers look the other way??? What happened to karma and what goes around comes around? How can a man who is disrespected and even hated by his employees succeed? Do I have it all wrong? The kiss up/kick downs of the work really do succeed.

I feel like throwing in the towel, stopping banging my head against that damn glass ceiling and staying home. Maybe starting a women-owned small business. Maybe job sharing with my hubby.

Oh, update on the hubby. We had a date night on Saturday and the time together was very helpful. He hired help so that he could work extra hours and not have to work on my birthday. I sense that he still feels pressure to work, but we'll at least have the afternoon together and we have a date night the next day. I'm not expecting diamonds or anything, but I'm glad he worked out a solution.

"There are plenty of other men who would like to spend time with me!"

That was the venom that spewed out of my mouth last night as my husband sheepishly admitted that he wanted to work instead of spend my next Friday off with me - this is a recurring theme. O yeah, it happens to be my birthday. He tried to make it better by first showing me the toilets in the garage, which are my birthday present, and then saying that we had a sitter 6 days before my birthday. We have a regular babysitter every two weeks, so having her come 6 days before my birthday is nothing special.

That was it.

I said the title of this blog, then said I didn't want to talk about it anymore because anything he offered to do was simply out of fear and not love or respect. Then I maturely ran to my room, locked the door and cried myself to sleep while he put the kids to bed.

I should have a warning at the beginning of this blog that this post is a pity party!

My anger stems from years and years of my mom forgetting my birthday. This is coupled by having it during the holidays and rarely having parties as a child and my day being overshadowed by Christmas. At 30 and with a 8 week-old baby, I threw my own party with only grunts from my husband, who would just assume we live as hermits and never socialize.

So, I'm probably going to schedule a spa day for myself and spend some ridicuous amount of money, that I don't have, trying to pamper myself and make myself feel better. Or maybe I'll calm down and come up with something a little more constructive . . .