Food for thought

It has been one of those days where I've been questioning myself as a mother, particularly a stay-at-home-mom.

I've got a headache. It's summer. I don't deal with heat well. Darling daughter didn't nap at all yesterday and didn't get to bed at 10 p.m. and this afternoon she didn't nap as long as she should have. I could say all those things were working against me today, or the simple fact that it is "one of those days," but whatever is going on, I think I need to sit down and start giving things some serious consideration.

I've been home for the last two years. They have gone incredibly fast. But lately I have started entertaining the ideal of returning to work. To do what, I haven't a clue. Returning to journalism is not realistic because quite frankly the profession isn't all that family friendly. On the car ride home from visiting family, I was reading a story in an old Reader's Digest my grandmother gave me about a man recounting his experiences as a husband and journalist. He wrote about the long hours and how it took a toll on his family. I remember those long hours vividly. I don't miss them.

Being a mother is the hardest jobs I ever had. I'm not too sure if the return-to-work thoughts I'm entertaining have to do with the toughness of the job or the fact that I want to return to work. I realize the grass isn't necessarily greener on the other side, but I think I may be missing something. Today, I was so happy to see dear husband walk through the front door, 10 minutes early. So I'll be giving this more thought.