Thoughts from a Working Mom

My ex is a deadbeat.

I won’t bore you with the details, but suffice it to say that after a year of struggling (and mostly failing) to make ends meet, I decided to take a second job in order to keep the Demigoddesses clothed and fed and sheltered in the manner to which they have become accustomed. So last September began my part-time career at Old Navy.

The job itself does not totally suck, which means that working part-time at Old Navy has exceeded my expectations a great deal. What bites is that putting in 55 hours a week between two jobs makes it hard to do much of anything else. Housekeeping has sorta gone out the window, laundry has become sporadic at best, and the Demigoddess have become remarkably self sufficient, especially regarding that whole “dinner” thing. By Thursday night I am almost always tired and surly and eager to point out to anyone who is within earshot the agonizing minutia of the miseries of my life.

Circumstances have improved dramatically since last fall. I hate to credit Old Navy with changing my life, but once I took that step, a lot of things began falling into place, and not just financially. So lately, I have been toying with the idea of quitting the part-time gig. But I find that I’m not quite ready to drop the axe just yet.

I am blessed with bright, healthy children who are still willing to be seen with me in public, and believe me, for that I am very, very grateful. But I have learned something from this whole experience that I will not soon forget: Knowing that your child needs something, and not knowing how you are going to provide that thing for your child, is a special kind of hell that I never want to live in again.

Plus, you know, I get a sweet discount at the GAP.

I’m seriously quitting before the Christmas shopping season, though. Because that REALLY sucks.