Courtesy of Rebecca Nevius
I used to think I had unlimited time with my children, filled with playdates and cuddles on the sofa. It wasn’t until recently that I considered going back to work full-time.
It all started in the school pickup line. It was the last day of school, and I was surprising my kids with a trip to our local novelty shop to buy Pokémon cards. My oldest, Noah, climbed into the front seat.
“Woo hoo!” I screamed out the window, to the horror of my middle child, who was shoved next to his sister in the back seat. “You’re all done with school!”
“And I’m finished with 6th grade!” shouted my oldest, “Only six more years to go.”
It was then that it hit me, with a terrible clarity that nearly made my eyes water. Six more years?
I realized there are only six summers before my son heads to college
Just six more summers before he finished high school? Six short summers — to have water balloon fights, go to trampoline parks, and swim until our hair turns green? And six more opportunities to drive to the Tetons on an epic family road trip that I’d planned in my head but had never taken. Opportunities to show them the world that we’d seen, but together, as a family.
With my oldest son entering 7th grade, time to take that “we’ll do that later”-vacation is dwindling. Sure, I can tell him about Southern England and the small town where he was born, or we could go there together. He could see the shoreline where I used to walk to work while I was pregnant with him — experience the gulls diving into the frigid sea. But how?
We sacrificed a second income so I could stay home with our kids
In the early days of our marriage, my husband and I traveled quite a bit, even moving to England for a stint after finishing our Master’s programs. We made a pact just after my oldest was born that we’d take a big trip for his high school graduation — Cairo, to see the Grand Egyptian Museum, or a river cruise down the Nile — back when we were barely making car payments and utilities.
We knew traveling with a family would only be possible with two incomes. Yet, I quit my full-time job to raise our children. While my husband worked, I held my babies and watched them take their first steps. We walked the pathways at our local zoo and made playdates with other moms and their children. I worked part-time, teaching music lessons and writing to pay the grocery bill.
Though it was the right choice for us, the decision to live on one full-time income came with sacrifices. Thankfully, we always had what we needed, but we were never really able to save for those big family trips we’d always dreamed of.
Returning to work would benefit all of us
I am ready to start saving for an epic trip, but I’m also ready to kick-start my career. Having done gig work most of my life, I considered simply upping my hours and continuing to work for myself. After a “go get ’em, babe” from my husband and a check-in with my kids, I dusted off my résumé and put it out there. Two weeks in, and I’ve already gotten an offer.
Will it be difficult in the beginning, juggling new responsibilities? Yes. But my family, parents included, have agreed to pitch in where necessary and support my decision, so I won’t be alone.
I’ve always lived my life with a carpe diem, seize the day-type attitude. I’ve made most of my important decisions asking for wisdom from trusted friends and family, but also by pretending I was 100 years old and lying on my deathbed. I call it the “deathbed” test. I pretend I’m 100, lying there, and my children ask me, “Do you have any regrets?” If the answer is, “Yes. I wish I had…” then I do that thing — before it’s too late.
Now, at 44, I’m saying yes to raising my kids the best way I know how. Yes to job applications, to awkward interviews, and eventually, yes to Cairo and the Tetons. This is for all of us and our last six summers together.
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