The emergency repairs to the kitchen a couple of months ago. You can see half of our oven on top of the bench and the beautiful 90's Ikea cabinets that have incited many spatula-throwing, pan-banging, door-slamming tantrums lately. I've never been particularly superficial or obsessed with material things, but this kitchen drives me to distraction. I've managed to cook some pretty special dishes in it but my husband is currently downstairs constructing a gate to keep J out of the kitchen now that he can reach up and potentially pull down appliances, including the oven. There's only one thing that's going to get us out of this state, and that is extra cash. In a fit of pique last week I shot off a job application, and I'm going in for an interview today.
It's a full-time job in one of the local international schools. It's the kind of job I'm trained and qualified to do, and 3 years ago I would've leapt at the opportunity to do this job in this particular school. But now that my moment of rage has passed I'm a lot less certain. I'd be working full-time, commuting for about an hour each way, and with D doing his upgrade this year, J would be left most days, all day, with our helper... I did a list of pros and cons last night, assuming that they offer me the job, and there were an awful lot of cons. But I can't help thinking that it would be really good for me to feel like I was actively contributing to making the house into a home, instead of just complaining about it all the time. Not to mention how nice it would be to get out and do something that I genuinely enjoy doing. I keep trying to justify it to myself; J will start unaccompanied playgroup in January, he's a lot more independent these days, I need to do something so I don't go stir crazy when he doesn't need me so much. Then I remind myself that he's only going to be small and at home with me for such a short time - I should enjoy every precious minute. We talked about every working mum we knew of and there were very few who were actually happy with that arrangement. If they were happy, their husbands and/or kids generally weren't.
I know it's crazy to over-think it so much considering I haven't been offered the job yet, but I feel like I need to work out whether or not I actually want it before I walk into the interview. So I have to ask myself, can I live with my god-forsaken kitchen for another year? Or can I bear to leave this behind every day?
My sweet, funny, gorgeous, special little man. He'd be fine, but would I? I'd love to hear from any of you on this one. And I'll keep you posted.
No comments:
Post a Comment