Back to work

I hate to admit it, but I breath a small breath of relief to go back to work. It isn't that I don't love my family. This is my routine. And I am very much a creature of habit. 

I don't like the phrase "working mother". I've never met a mother who didn't work. Some if us just have the dubious honor of working outside the home.  This comes with its own set of difficulties, not the least being "Mommy Guilts". I suppose all moms get them, but those I'd us who walk out the door each morning get more then our share. 

I have been our bread winner for twelve and a half years now. This was never by design. I always thought I would stay home with our kids. It just turned out this way. 

Now, don't get me wrong. My husband does a marvelous job with our kids and we are all so blessed to have him. It's still hard to even be sympathetic when he calls to vent about a bad day with our kids. It's not that I feel I could do any better. Sometimes I wish I had the chance. 

Still, I take a little breath of relief to walk out some mornings. I don't think I'll ever get over the guilt of that relief.