Revelations.

Last week was a quiet week at the girls’ daycare; most of the kids were off on vacation with their parents. In our household, mommy took a vacation and kept the kids in daycare. Does that make me a bad parent?

Anyway, it was a bit of a shock to walk into Juliette's classroom Wednesday morning and see a room full of kids. Boys, to be precise. Usually when Juliette walks in, several of the other toddlers will enthusiastically announce “Juliette is here!!” Not today. Loud, energetic, and completely engrossed in their game, the boys didn’t even notice Juliette. It’s like when you were in school and none of your friends were in your class, and you felt like an outsider from all the other little cliques. Yes, it is true, as a teenager I was not one of the “in” crowd. Junior year in high school was horrible- not a single one of my friends was in five out of seven of my classes, a miserable situation to be in at that age. So I understood completely why, when I tried to leave, Juliette didn’t want to let me go. “Mommy, hold me!” she cried, somewhat desperately. The teacher usually steps in at this point but she was busy cleaning up the paint that had spilled all over the table, so I had no backup. I gently tried to disentangle Juliette’s arms from around my neck, gave her a large kiss, and asked her to paint me a picture. She looked doubtful, but as I walked away she turned around and slowly, tentatively, walked towards the boys.

Oh, my brave Juliette! I was so proud of her, and at that moment I wanted to run back in, pick her up, and protect her in my arms from the cruel, difficult world! I know this is not the last time Juliette will experience the “outsider” feeling. But I felt such guilt that she would have to go through it at such a young age. As I got into my car and started driving away I began to think… I am her mother, I should be there for her. I should be the one looking after her, not these other people at this day care center. When I gave birth I gave up my right to put me first… and yet here I am, dropping her at this place and going off to do my own thing.

Then I had a revelation. Before I get to that, let me give a little backround info. When people ask me what I am going to do after I finish this post-doc and the time comes to get a ‘real’ job, I usually shrug my shoulders and say “I’m not sure.” I'm not trying to be vague or evasive; I really don't know the answer. All these years in school, all this training, and as much as I love what I do now, I can't stay here forever. But I still don't know what I want to be when I grow up.

Here is the revelation- I am unwilling to make a commitment because what I truly think I should do is stop working and be an exclusive mom. Soon enough, my girls will start getting involved in sports, and music lessons, and playdates and parties and all sorts of activities that will require transportation and attention and aid… and how can I do all that, how can I let them lead the full and active life that I lead as a child, if I am caught up in the stressful, competitive, demanding career?

I've had this thought before. Greg has suggested it on several occasions. But this day, I took it one step further, and I made a decision: I am going to work for another year or two- long enough to complete this post-doc and fufill all my grant payback requirements- and then quit.

There. Done. Decided. I have a plan. And it feels good.

I think.

I don't know.

Ask me tomorrow, and maybe I’ll give you a different answer.

Update: This morning, when Juliette walked into her classroom, one of her friends ran to her, screaming "Juliette!", and gave her the biggest hug. Juliette gave me a cursory kiss good bye, then offered to close the gate behind me as I left.