The Bittersweet Reality of Going Back to Work After Time at Home with My Kids

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As I prepared to leave for work, my 2-year-old wrapped his little arms around my neck, burying his head against my chest, and pleaded, “Stay, Mommy. Stay.” I embraced him tightly, reassuring him that he would be in safe hands with Grandma and that I’d be back in the afternoon. Reluctantly, he finally responded, “Okay, Mama. Okay.”

Driving away, I felt a bittersweet pang in my heart. But there was also a glimmer of excitement—my hair was styled, my heels clicked confidently against the pavement, and I was stepping back into a world I had longed to rejoin since becoming a mother over five years ago.

The job opportunity felt like a miracle. The thought of searching endlessly for a position or crafting a resume was daunting. Instead, I had simply wished for the right opportunity to find me. (Yes, I admit it; I’ve gotten quirkier with age.) I wanted a role that would fit seamlessly with my family life and wouldn’t devour my entire paycheck in childcare costs. I remained open-minded, and without expecting much, a teaching position came my way.

This happened during a conversation with a new acquaintance about my worries regarding my 5-year-old starting kindergarten. She mentioned a local private school whose educational philosophy matched mine and encouraged me to check it out. Initially, I dismissed the idea, thinking it was out of my budget, but then I ran into her again, and she mentioned they were seeking a third-grade teacher. In a twist of fate, I was offered the job along with a full-time tuition waiver for both my kids.

The new school year doesn’t kick off until August, but I did a trial run by substituting for a day. While it went relatively well, I left utterly drained. I had anticipated that work would invigorate me, but instead, I found myself sighing deeply as I made my way to the car. I began counting the hours until bedtime, but not with the usual enthusiasm.

I missed my kids. The empowering heels I had donned felt burdensome, and the stylish outfit I envisioned wearing to Trader Joe’s seemed to just want to collapse in a heap on my bedroom floor. I pictured our messy home, all of us half-dressed and lost in our own rhythm. In that moment, I recognized the beauty in the chaos of motherhood, which often felt long and exhausting but now appeared perfect.

I reminisced about our Target outings, munching on popcorn and hunting for bargains—it felt more meaningful than just passing time. I thought of our heartfelt chats in the bathroom, and the depth of those moments made me forget why I ever felt the urge to leave. Even the games of hide-and-seek, which were often a cover for folding laundry, now felt cherished. I regretted ever believing that stepping away from my kids would bring balance to my life.

When I returned home, eager to embrace my 2-year-old, I found him overtired and cranky. I had envisioned work as a break from the incessant demands and temper tantrums, picturing hugs and love upon my return. Instead, I was met with a mood that even ice cream couldn’t sweeten. Typically, I’m good at giving my fussy kids the space they need, but after being away all day, I felt less confident. Guilt washed over me, mingled with pressure for our precious time together to be perfect.

Since receiving the job offer, I had imagined writing about my newfound happiness as a working mom, yet I wasn’t prepared for this sudden uncertainty. The mundane aspects of my life, which I had once wanted to escape, now felt like freedom. I used to envy those who eagerly awaited Fridays and dreaded Sundays because my days blended together. Now, I realize they might envy me for having that stability. I craved significance in my work, but I see now that alarm clocks and paychecks don’t define it. Perhaps I’ve been engaged in the most important job of all.

While stay-at-home motherhood brought me immense joy, it also stirred feelings of loneliness, frustration, and boredom. Yet during that struggle, my boys have grown, life has become easier, and I’ve discovered ways to live passionately and creatively. Now that the solution I believed I wanted has arrived, I’m not entirely sure it’s what I need. I’m grieving what I’ll miss, but I recognize that such feelings are a natural part of transition, which is inevitable. My son is 5, and it’s his time to start school. This is our next chapter, and we’re fortunate to embark on it together.

The truth is, the grass isn’t always greener, and I need to remind myself of this as I reflect on both my past and my future. Sure, I know my new role will come with its own challenges, but it’s in taking this step that I find clarity about my time at home, now viewed through a lens of nostalgia. Our blessings become clearer when they’re no longer taken for granted. Perhaps that’s the balance I’ve been seeking. Clinging to the past only traps me in a “grass-is-greener” mentality; the key is to embrace life as it unfolds, ready for whatever comes next.

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In summary, the transition back to work after being home with my kids is filled with mixed emotions. I cherish my time with them and find joy in the little moments, even as I step into a new chapter of my life. The bittersweet nature of this experience reminds me that every change comes with its own set of challenges and rewards.