To work or not to work?

Outside the home, that is. A few weeks ago, I received a phone call from the Foreign Language Department Chair at a local Christian school. They have an opening for a part/time teacher in my subject area. I was interested at first, but the more I thought about leaving my little girl in others' hands, no matter how capable they might be, the more I reconsidered. "Part-Time" is still every day, just not for the full day with this school's schedule. When traffic is GOOD the drive is 20 minutes... longer during peak hours.

Today, two more people approached me and mentioned that they passed my name on to this school. Is God trying to tell me something? Hubby and I had pretty much decided not to pursue the opportunity any further. I've always wanted to stay home during my child's earliest years, and as she blossoms into a little girl I want that even more. Working 4-5 hours per day plus commute is still a little closer to fill time than I want for us right now. There are factors involved that cause me to pause and consider, and I am honored that a couple of someones thought of me when they heard of the need. But does that mean I am ready to make such a big change? (I'm not asking you guys, I'm just thinking aloud.)

hubby takes a turn being SAHD

Yup, it was hubby's turn to be a Stay-at-home-Dad. He works long days so he can have every-other Friday off work. We love it. Well, about 6 months ago, tech mom suggested I look into cleaning houses. At the time I think I laughed in her face, or called crt and asked her if she wanted to hear the nonsense that my mother-in-law had suggested. That wasn't her only suggestion, and she was trying to brainstorm to help me come with a constructive solution to receipt-nazi-induced frustration. Yes, I love him. Yes, I am very grateful for his financial discipline, and no, that does not change the fact that he is a receipt nazi. Anyway, I really don't want him to have to pick up an extra job when he works so hard already. And I really love those Fridays off. But I have begun to look into finding something part time (perhaps around 10 hours a week). Something that will be flexible enough for me to only work partial weekends, so hubby and baby bear can have bonding time. Preferrably something close to home. I haven't applied at the grocery stores yet (there are now 2 less than 2 miles away from my house.) I am also going to consider tutoring in the Subject that I taught, but my books are all packed away in boxes and finding them is a somewhat daunting task.

Anyway, we have friends from church who own their own cleaning business. It is small, but has grown enough to where they have thought about hiring additional help. However, they aren't quite ready to take on that commitment. Anyway, after a conversation I had with Mrs. Clean, as I will call her here, I began to think about possibly helping them out. I could potentially help clean if they really need someone else on the Friday mornings hubby has off, providing we aren't galavanting around the globe or across the state to visit family. Today, Mr. Clean and I embarked on my first "job". Well, not first job ever, but first job cleaning someone else's house. The last time I did any type of house cleaning and got paid for it was when I was about 9 years old, and "Grandma Hock" from our church in MI hired me to help clean out her kitchen cabinets. It hurt her back too much to hunch over, and I thought it was fun. Anyway, though I had initially scoffed at my mil for suggesting such a thing, there I was today, trying on my oldest jeans. Unfortunately, the size 7 and 8's were still too small (in spite of the fact that I've lost 5 more pounds since January), so I had to choose the pair of good jeans that I would least mind ruining with bleach or other household cleaners. I threw on a "Blood Battle" (UT-Martin and Murray State Blood Drive)T-shirt, and off I went to meet Mr. Clean. I'd forgotten that normal people are actually awake and out and about at 7:00 a.m., and it took me 20 minutes to drive 6 miles. Nothin' like being late to your first day of a new job. Oh, well. The afternoon cleaning actually turned out to be in a neighborhood I will not be going to by myself, not far from where hubby used to patrol the streets. It doesn't look as scary during the day, and the apartment was actually slightly cleaner than my house's current state... the inside of the fridge was cleaner than my own fridge's current state. But I have been reminded that other people's grime is much scarier than your own personal grime for some reason. Thankfully, I will get to decide whether or not I want to accept a cleaning job in the future.

So, as we approach the weekend, I now have my feet kicked up on the ottoman. We went out for pizza, and apparently something in the salad bar hit my stomach wrong, so I had a rough hour or so after we got home. Baby Bear went straight to sleep after brushing her teeth.

OH, I almost forgot to share the best part of my day. And no, I'm not talking about the fact that the husband at morning cleaning appt. has the same name as my hubby IRL (no, not receipt nazi), his wife's name is 2 letters different than mine, and their last name has the same first 3 letters. Their sons' names are nothing like Baby Bear's, but they are almost as cute as she is. Nor am I referring to the fact that hubby swept the kitchen floor, folded laundry, and wiped down the counters while I was gone. (Have I mentioned that he is a WONDERFUL hubby? No? Well, he is! Tech Mom, you raised him well!!!)

No, the BEST part of my day was getting to experience the joy of seeing my little girl's beautiful grin and feel her hug me as hard as she can because I am home. I never realized that I take her sweet smiles and hugs for granted until I was away from her for a full work day.

Maybe I will actually clean my own house while baby bear and daddy play this weekend. I haven't quite gotten into the swing of things with my routine.