I have a little secret to share, and brace yourselves: the stay-at-home mom gig is just not for me. Reflecting on my journey since my son was born six and a half years ago, I can’t quite recall what I envisioned for myself. Back then, I was a speech therapist working with elderly folks in nursing homes, promising to return after a brief four-month maternity leave. Deep down, I had my doubts. By the time my son hit three months, I was still figuring out how to be a mom, let alone train someone else to step in during my absence. So, I took the plunge and quit my job, planning to reenter the workforce when he turned one.
But plot twist! I found out I was pregnant with my daughter when my son was just nine months old. Going back to work for a mere six months before taking another break felt absurd, so I convinced myself to give my daughter the same full year I had given my son.
Fast forward to my daughter’s first birthday, and it quickly became clear that my son was not your average kiddo. With his undiagnosed ADHD and sensory processing disorder, every day was a wild ride. I literally had to keep a close watch on him, fearing he would either harm himself or put his sister in jeopardy. He was climbing countertops, darting out the front door, and unplugging anything he could reach. Babyproofing? Forget it—I was his personal babyproofing expert.
Years passed, and my son remained a handful. I just couldn’t trust anyone else to care for him. If he pushed another kid down the slide at the park, I felt it was my duty to be there to fix things. The thought of asking someone else to handle two toddlers overwhelmed me, and maybe, just maybe, I was a bit scared to jump back into the working world after three and a half years away.
Last year, my son started kindergarten, and life got a tad easier. However, my happiness had dwindled over the years, and the idea of returning to a job that didn’t excite me felt unbearable. I had always dreamed of having kids; it was always a top priority for me. So, imagine my shock when, after some serious soul-searching, I finally accepted that being a stay-at-home mom wasn’t the right fit for me. It took me six long years to confront that reality. I had believed that parenthood was meant to be fulfilling—perhaps not every single moment, but ultimately rewarding. For me, though, it just didn’t provide the joy I craved.
We scrimped and saved to hire a babysitter, and for the first time in ages, I had some much-needed help. Over the past six months, I’ve felt a renewed sense of joy. Part of that happiness stems from finally deciding to pursue a lifelong dream: I applied for a master’s in mental health counseling! I start classes tomorrow, and I’m buzzing with excitement.
Of course, because the universe has a sense of humor, my babysitter is on vacation for two weeks right as I’m starting school. So, my mom is stepping in to help with the kids while I attend class. We were going over the logistics:
“Will you be home first, or is Tom?” she asked.
“Nope! I won’t be back until around 9:30 PM. I’ve got a board meeting for my volunteer work right after class,” I replied.
“Oh, how are the kids handling this, Jenna?” she probed, her tone clearly questioning my choices.
“They’ll be fine. They want me to be happy, and spending all day at home with them didn’t do it for me. They’ve had me all to themselves for six and a half years; now it’s my turn,” I explained.
Her abrupt change of subject told me she wasn’t on board with my decision, but she wasn’t going to argue. In her eyes, staying home is paramount, and my kids need me, happy or not. And let’s not forget, children are supposed to be the light of a mother’s life, so why wasn’t I just overjoyed?
I see things differently. I’ve been there for my kids and will continue to be involved in their lives. I love them dearly, but I had put my own happiness aside to fulfill my parental duties, thinking that’s what mattered most. However, I wasn’t being the mom I could be—I was just going through the motions. I was missing in action, and my kids deserved more.
I’m not a fan of being a stay-at-home mom, catering to my kids and household all day. I dread the endless cycle of shuttling them from activity to activity and sitting through playdates where I’m just an observer. I zone out after five minutes of pretend play (seriously, how many times can I serve that pretend family fake food?). And the dinner battles? I’m done begging them to eat a single bite—just can’t do it anymore.
I feel guilty admitting this because it seems like it makes me a terrible mother, but I crave time to do things that ignite my passion. It’s essential for my happiness, and a happy me equals a better parent. I adore my kids and find joy in them, but my happiness multiplies when I engage in activities outside of parenting.
So, tomorrow, I’m shaking things up in my family life to focus on me for a change. Some of you might be thinking, “If you didn’t want to care for your kids, why did you have them?” and I get it; I feel a bit selfish. But I also know I can’t be truly happy without this. I’m as dedicated to them as ever, still caring for them while pursuing my dreams. I want to show them it’s never too late to chase your aspirations while striving to create a joyful home for them. I’ll always be their mom, ensuring they feel loved and supported, no matter what else I’m doing. And most importantly, I won’t be resentful anymore.
In Summary
I’ve realized that the stay-at-home mom life isn’t the right path for me. After years of feeling unfulfilled, I’m diving back into my education and pursuing my dream of becoming a mental health counselor. I’m excited to show my children that following your passions is essential. It’s about finding the right balance and being the best parent I can be while also prioritizing my happiness.