“You have a job. Sarah is your job.”
So, Sarah and I are preparing to make our second move in four months. We had moved in July from our apartment to Dec’s house, but Dec is preparing to move to New York for his two year work contract, and we decided it would be easier for Sarah and I to move out of the house for our six month try at staying here (at the end of six months we will move to be with him) and…into his parents’ house.
I considered moving back in with my parents (2 hours away) or using my savings to pay the mortgage on the house, but we finally came to the conclusion that this was the best temporary solution. But this isn’t the point. The point is this:
I haven’t worked since right after Sarah was born. I had only really figured out what I wanted to do career-wise a few months before she was born and I was running around like a chicken with my head cut off trying to figure out which schools were the best, what the job market was like, and everything else I was going to need before I jumped into the world of editing. Yes, I wanted to be a grammar nerd for a living. A big part of me still does, but I digress. It could be a long time before I’m even THINKING about that again.
So naturally I felt a little bit uncomfortable moving in with my boyfriend of just under a year’s parents with no job and a special needs baby and naturally I offered to do whatever I could to make sure that they knew how much I appreciated their willingness to support us. And one of the things I asked was if they wanted me to get a job.
Their response surprised me.
“Are you kidding?”
“You don’t need a job. You HAVE a job. Sarah is your job. You have decided to dedicate this part of your life to making sure that she gets the best start possible, and that’s the most noble job of all.”
And you know, I guess it is. At this stage I can’t imagine working. There’s so much I need to do with her, so much, well, work that needs to be done with her to make sure that she grows up into a successful human being who reaches and exceeds her full potential that the idea of having a job alongside being her parent exhausts me. I commend the parents of kids with special needs who can do it. I know I sure couldn’t.
And so for now? I’m going to enjoy my job as professional Sarah handler. The professional world can wait.