I embarked on my teaching journey at just 22 years old. Education has always been my passion, and I’ve devoted countless hours to honing my craft. Stepping away from this career is no small feat; it weighs heavily on my mind, finances, and emotions.
Many parents express how challenging their children can be, often lamenting the loss of their own freedom while dealing with outbursts, poor grades, and untidy rooms. I completely understand. Each of us has different thresholds when it comes to parenting—some lower than others. Perhaps my limits are unreasonably low, or my expectations of myself are unrealistically high. What I do know is that I strive to give my best, given the circumstances.
Once again, I’ve made the tough choice to take a break from my teaching career to better support my children’s emotional and social needs. This isn’t the first time I’ve done this, and it surely won’t be the last, but each time feels just as daunting.
Raising a daughter with learning challenges and social difficulties is tough. It’s equally challenging to parent a second daughter who possesses a high level of empathy and sensitivity. The contrast between my two daughters—one who struggles with social cues and another who navigates them effortlessly—adds to the complexity. They often fail to understand each other, and sibling bullying is a genuine concern. As their parent, it’s my duty to ensure both receive the support they need to flourish.
So, for the third time, I’ve stepped away from my teaching role to be there for my daughters. This means providing explicit social coaching, exercising immense patience during homework time, and occasionally sneaking off to the bathroom for a mental breather.
When it comes to parenting, you take what you get. We love our kids, yet there are days when they test our limits. It’s perfectly okay to admit feelings of overwhelm and frustration. Children demand so much from us—our money, time, patience, and energy.
I allow myself to feel these emotions. I can be upset that I have to pause my career—a career I excel in and love—because I choose to prioritize my children. Even as I grapple with the absurdity of yet another dispute over trivial matters like snacks or toys, I recognize the necessity of my decision.
The emotional toll isn’t the only challenge; there’s also the financial impact. I am acutely aware that this choice means I will have to work longer to secure my retirement, forgo lavish vacations, and settle for more modest furnishings. It’s a constant balancing act between my children’s well-being and the financial stability we yearn for.
Then there’s the hit to my ego that comes with starting over each time I leave a job. Having to continuously prove my worth can be draining, especially when I receive calls about my children struggling in school or at home. I know I need to be present to help them navigate these challenges.
I accept that these sacrifices are part of motherhood. I may not enjoy it, but it’s a reality I must embrace.
I know I’m not alone in this journey. Many mothers share similar struggles, and in many ways, we consider ourselves fortunate. I have the privilege of staying home with my kids and being fully available to meet their needs. My husband provides financial support and actively participates in parenting after his long workdays. Together, we strive to nurture our daughters.
Despite the difficulties and the emotional rollercoaster that comes with this decision, there are undeniable positives to my new lifestyle. Although I’m pausing my formal career, I’m not letting go of the skills I’ve acquired over the years.
As a seasoned educator and now a writer, I can channel my passion for advocating for educational reform through my writing. I remain engaged in the educational field, keeping up with articles, participating in professional networks, and sharing insights with former colleagues.
Taking a break from my career doesn’t equate to quitting. It offers me the chance to explore another avenue to express my love for education. I’ll soon begin a PhD in Educational Policy and Leadership, using the next four years to deepen my commitment to cultivating change in teacher education.
During the day while my kids are at school, I can focus on research and writing, and continue to build a professional network of educators. Leaving a job doesn’t halt my learning journey; it provides room to expand my intellectual horizons.
For full-time working parents, it’s tough to manage school announcements, after-school activities, and remembering special days. Now, I can participate in school events I would have previously missed.
In the mornings, I can help my daughters prepare for school, ease their nerves before quizzes, and lend an ear for their friendship woes. Instead of rushing out the door to teach others’ children, I can take my time to teach my own.
Choosing to step back from a career is never easy. It’s an emotional and taxing process that can be hard on the ego. However, for my family, this choice feels right. It’s a decision we’ve made to fulfill our responsibilities to both society and our children.
Ultimately, it’s not just about my husband or me or even our children; it’s about us—our family. We will do what it takes to support one another, time and again.
If you’re interested in exploring other parenting resources, check out this insightful post on home insemination. Additionally, if you’re looking for information on home insemination kits, Make a Mom is a great authority on the topic. And for those curious about fertility insurance, this resource provides excellent information.
Summary
In this heartfelt reflection, the author discusses the challenges of balancing a teaching career with the emotional and social needs of her two daughters, leading to her decision to take a break from her profession. Acknowledging the emotional and financial sacrifices that come with this choice, she also highlights the positives, including the opportunity to engage in educational advocacy and pursue further studies. Ultimately, she emphasizes the importance of family support and the need to prioritize her children’s well-being.