Post by Rhonda on May 3, 2009 6:58:41 GMT -5
The Decision
By Miriam Hill
The Decision From Chicken Soup for the Soul: Power Moms
It is our choices... that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities.
~J.K. Rowling (Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets)
"Mom! Mom!" shouted Steven as he burst into the kitchen wearing a grin. "We made applesauce in first grade today and Miss Shannon let me stir in the sugar!"
"Uh-huh," I grunted as I threw spaghetti into a pot of boiling water and lowered the heat under the bubbling sauce.
"Mom!" my son persisted as he tugged at my arm, "You're not listening!"
"Stop it, Steven! I'm trying to get dinner ready and you're bugging me. Go see what your sisters are doing."
"Gee, you used to ask me what I did in school," he mumbled, as disappointment clouded his eyes.
"Now you don't care."
I half listened as I stirred the sauce. I felt drained from my day and the stress of teaching first-graders in a school across town. It had been a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. Sarah's mother was hostile during our conference; Kyle hit Andrew at recess; and I had bus duty in a downpour. I had endured twenty-one children shouting my name, pulling my arm, and demanding my attention. I couldn't stand another child -- my child -- doing the same. As steam rattled the lid on the pot, I felt guilty for blowing off my own steam at my innocent son. I had given the best of myself to other parents' children. I had nothing left for my own child.
After dinner, I helped my two daughters with their middle school homework and rubbed Steven's back before tucking him in. I graded papers, fell into bed, and did some soul-searching during my sleepless night.
As I trudged to my classroom the next morning, my principal stopped me in the hall. "Over the last six months you've done an excellent job of substituting for Rachel while she's been on maternity leave. She has decided to be a stay-at-home mom. Your co-workers and I hope you'll replace her... full-time."
I thought about his offer. Teaching jobs were scarce and I had heard rumors that one principal had over 200 resumes on his desk. As I considered my options I reflected on my teaching career.
I had taught before I became a mom, but once I had three children I couldn't imagine teaching full-time. Eventually, I was motivated to return to the classroom because of that dreaded question people often asked: "Do you work or do you stay at home?" If I said, "I work," it meant I had a paying job outside the home. If I said, "I stay at home," it meant I don't... work, I only -- buy groceries, shop for kids' clothes, cook, clean, wash laundry, fold laundry, iron clothes, mow the yard, entertain, do home repairs, maintain a car, sew, decorate, vacuum, pay bills, teach Sunday school, work out, chauffeur kids, volunteer, take night classes, grow a garden, weed flower beds, bake bread, dust, paint walls, organize drawers, host sleepovers, support school activities... and much more.
Substitute teaching offered flexibility. I could accept jobs on a daily basis and decline work if I needed to stay home with a sick child. Plus I'd be with the kids after school. Now that I was offered a full-time position, I scheduled a family conference to help me make the decision.
"You did a test drive these past months and everything was great," said my husband. "Don't do it for the money... only if it's rewarding."
"It doesn't make any difference to me," said my daughter, Betsy. "By the time I finish band practice and run cross-country, you're already home."
"I agree, it's no big deal," said my other daughter, Lori. "We notice you're more tired when you work, but we all pitch in and help."
All eyes turned to Steven as he fidgeted and stared at the floor. "Mom, you used to laugh and be fun but now you get mad a lot," he said softly. "And we don't go fishing or bike riding anymore. I like it better when you stay home."
I hugged my son and knew what my decision would be.
When I arrived for my last day of teaching, the faculty honored me with a surprise breakfast. The principal and my co-workers presented me with accolades, gifts, and regrets that I would not be joining the staff.
As I cooked dinner that evening, Steven ran into the kitchen and thrust a small, wrapped present into my hand. He had decorated the paper with colorful flowers, a smiling sun, and a crooked rainbow.
"Open it later, Mom," he said as he dashed out the door.
On my first day as a stay-at-home mom, I unpacked the loving letters and presents from my first-grade students. I placed the red ceramic apple that read, "To the World's Best Teacher," next to the gift from Steven... a figurine of a small, smiling boy. It read, "To the World's Greatest Mom."
I made the right decision.
Reprinted by permission of Louise A. Hill, Jr © 2009 from Chicken Soup for the Soul
By Miriam Hill
The Decision From Chicken Soup for the Soul: Power Moms
It is our choices... that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities.
~J.K. Rowling (Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets)
"Mom! Mom!" shouted Steven as he burst into the kitchen wearing a grin. "We made applesauce in first grade today and Miss Shannon let me stir in the sugar!"
"Uh-huh," I grunted as I threw spaghetti into a pot of boiling water and lowered the heat under the bubbling sauce.
"Mom!" my son persisted as he tugged at my arm, "You're not listening!"
"Stop it, Steven! I'm trying to get dinner ready and you're bugging me. Go see what your sisters are doing."
"Gee, you used to ask me what I did in school," he mumbled, as disappointment clouded his eyes.
"Now you don't care."
I half listened as I stirred the sauce. I felt drained from my day and the stress of teaching first-graders in a school across town. It had been a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. Sarah's mother was hostile during our conference; Kyle hit Andrew at recess; and I had bus duty in a downpour. I had endured twenty-one children shouting my name, pulling my arm, and demanding my attention. I couldn't stand another child -- my child -- doing the same. As steam rattled the lid on the pot, I felt guilty for blowing off my own steam at my innocent son. I had given the best of myself to other parents' children. I had nothing left for my own child.
After dinner, I helped my two daughters with their middle school homework and rubbed Steven's back before tucking him in. I graded papers, fell into bed, and did some soul-searching during my sleepless night.
As I trudged to my classroom the next morning, my principal stopped me in the hall. "Over the last six months you've done an excellent job of substituting for Rachel while she's been on maternity leave. She has decided to be a stay-at-home mom. Your co-workers and I hope you'll replace her... full-time."
I thought about his offer. Teaching jobs were scarce and I had heard rumors that one principal had over 200 resumes on his desk. As I considered my options I reflected on my teaching career.
I had taught before I became a mom, but once I had three children I couldn't imagine teaching full-time. Eventually, I was motivated to return to the classroom because of that dreaded question people often asked: "Do you work or do you stay at home?" If I said, "I work," it meant I had a paying job outside the home. If I said, "I stay at home," it meant I don't... work, I only -- buy groceries, shop for kids' clothes, cook, clean, wash laundry, fold laundry, iron clothes, mow the yard, entertain, do home repairs, maintain a car, sew, decorate, vacuum, pay bills, teach Sunday school, work out, chauffeur kids, volunteer, take night classes, grow a garden, weed flower beds, bake bread, dust, paint walls, organize drawers, host sleepovers, support school activities... and much more.
Substitute teaching offered flexibility. I could accept jobs on a daily basis and decline work if I needed to stay home with a sick child. Plus I'd be with the kids after school. Now that I was offered a full-time position, I scheduled a family conference to help me make the decision.
"You did a test drive these past months and everything was great," said my husband. "Don't do it for the money... only if it's rewarding."
"It doesn't make any difference to me," said my daughter, Betsy. "By the time I finish band practice and run cross-country, you're already home."
"I agree, it's no big deal," said my other daughter, Lori. "We notice you're more tired when you work, but we all pitch in and help."
All eyes turned to Steven as he fidgeted and stared at the floor. "Mom, you used to laugh and be fun but now you get mad a lot," he said softly. "And we don't go fishing or bike riding anymore. I like it better when you stay home."
I hugged my son and knew what my decision would be.
When I arrived for my last day of teaching, the faculty honored me with a surprise breakfast. The principal and my co-workers presented me with accolades, gifts, and regrets that I would not be joining the staff.
As I cooked dinner that evening, Steven ran into the kitchen and thrust a small, wrapped present into my hand. He had decorated the paper with colorful flowers, a smiling sun, and a crooked rainbow.
"Open it later, Mom," he said as he dashed out the door.
On my first day as a stay-at-home mom, I unpacked the loving letters and presents from my first-grade students. I placed the red ceramic apple that read, "To the World's Best Teacher," next to the gift from Steven... a figurine of a small, smiling boy. It read, "To the World's Greatest Mom."
I made the right decision.
Reprinted by permission of Louise A. Hill, Jr © 2009 from Chicken Soup for the Soul