Everyone is in bed. The house has finally gone quiet. I can’t believe it’s almost 930 at night. Where did the time go?
Have I spoken to my children today? Not really.
Have we spent any time together today? Or this week at all? No, not really.
They are growing up before my eyes… kind of. The only thing in front of my face for almost 12 hours a day is my computer. Is other people’s children.
That’s not to say I don’t love my job. I do… love part of it. I love taking pictures. I love capturing memories for my clients. I love interacting with them. I love almost all my clients. Many of them are absolutely amazing people.
I don’t love the emails. The business part. The mother who I literally spent over an hour trying to help and all it came down to is not following directions. I don’t love being behind my computer so much that I don’t feel real. I don’t love the wasted time and the fact that there isn’t an off switch.
I don’t love when clients think it’s ok to call whenever they like. 8 pm on a school night. 730 pm on a Sunday. I don’t love how I try to be available for my clients but some of them know no boundaries and act completely put off when I don’t make myself available for what should be my family time. If you know me well at all, you know it’s really hard for me not to reach for that ringing phone.
I’m too busy to make dinner. I don’t even know what my children ate tonight.
I feel like a bad mom. I don’t feel like a mom at all. Who are these little people running and screaming throughout my house? I barely hear them getting my work done.
Sometimes this is how I feel. NOT ALWAYS. But sometimes. Being a working mom is sometimes hard.