Thursday, July 29, 2010

A New Pam and a New Blog


After all those college credits, the resume updates, presentations, networking mixers, and countless cups of Starbucks to stay awake, I found myself set to embark on my scariest career challenge yet: to be a mother. And no, I wasn't the working girl who suddenly found new meaning in life because I was pregnant. I was the working girl who had BEEN through the pregnancies-- the one who had proudly carried my breast pump to the office, the one who somehow justified paying daycare expenses that totaled more than my mortgage payment, the one crazily speeding home to make sure I was not late to baseball practice. Yes, I was superwoman, the working mother of a six year old boy named Colin and a three year old girl named Claire. I am also the wife of my Jesus-loving, wise-beyond-his-years handsome software developer of a husband, Jeff, and I believed that to many, I was the funny, outgoing, stylish, professional mother who specialized in versatility. Attend mass on Sundays? Check. Run a half marathon? Check. Head a social committee at work? Check. Maintain my fun status by drinking with friends on the weekend? Check. I took pleasure when others gawked at how I could handle it all.

Until it happened: I couldn't handle it all.

On January 30, 2010, my 29th birthday, I vowed to have my best year ever, the last hurrah before the inevitable start of my thirties. Five weeks later, sobbing in a hospital bed, I knew my plans and God's greatly differed. No one was more surprised than me when my so-called best year included leaving my job, the only prospect ahead of me something I NEVER thought I would do: stay at home with my kids.

Like many working women, I had countless conversations with colleagues about how bored we would be if we stayed home, how our kids would surely drive us to need psychiatric care, GOD FORBID- how could we even fathom surviving if we did not have the money to get pedicures? It sounds strange to me now, but I admit I often boasted about how I couldn't live without well-maintained toenails and therefore totally justified my kids being in daycare. And, to add to my pedicure argument, "The kids are SO much better off in the daycare anyway. The socialization, they know their alphabet..."

No, staying at home was certainly not for me. And then I spent five days of my best year ever laying in a hospital bed. I didn't know much of what was going on at the time, but I knew one thing: something had to change. And eventually this change, this scary, risky change, was that I was going to try the life of a stay at home mom.

Today, after being in this role for two months, I am eager to share my life-changing experiences, both fun and frustrating, as I exchange paychecks for playgrounds. My name is Pam, and while my 29th year of life certainly differs from the way I pictured it, this mother may just have her best year ever after all. We'll see.

5 comments:

  1. I never knew you liked your toenails so much. But nicely worded - I'm glad to be your first follower.

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  2. Good luck Pam. Just added your blog to my favorites. I hope your best year ever includes a trip back to NYC!

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  3. Yeah, you did it! See, the life of a stay-at-home mom will propel you into best-selling author by 30! :)
    You must be excited to see what God has in store for you. Remember, there are no mistakes.
    Enjoy!

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  4. I can't wait to read more!!!! You are an amazing person and this year, will be your best :)

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  5. I'm so proud of you. Wish I could be a stay at home mom again. Wouldn't change it for the world. Love you! MOM

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