It’s official, I am taking a break from the glitz and glamour of freelance writing.
I just turned down my first assignment, like, ever! Lately I’ve been feeling a little uninspired work-wise and I’m afraid it was starting to show in my writing. The whole reason I got into journalism is because I loved writing, but since I’ve been doing it for money, I’ve slowly been breaking up with it. I still love writing my blog and once I’m into a story I love that too, but the work involved before the writing begins, plus the cost of daycare for all those days I look at my computer numbly has been leaving me flat.
So here I am. For the next couple of months I’m a stay at home mom. I’ll read those SAHM comments on facebook and truly know what they’re talking about. Crayons in the toaster? you got it! Kids who hate throwing stuff out? Amen!
I’ve been talking about making this change for a long time. Before I had kids, and even when my muffin-heads were babies I thought they’d need me more when they were wee — and in a sense they did, they needed someone to pay constant attention to them. But did it have to be me? I’m not so sure. NOW though all I can think of is who else would drive them to their activities? make sure they do their homework? (yes, I’m trying to be better about that one!) and keep track of who their friends are (especially the ones I don’t want them hanging out with)? I feel like right now, I’m the only one who can do those things well. I’m so lucky to be able to do this that I feel I must give it a fair chance — not a chance 2 days a week when I don’t have a story hanging over my head.
Plus, the life of a freelancer is friggin’ hard! I miss my office friends SO much, although I definitely don’t miss my commute! I’m lonely all the time. I have no co-workers, I have to focus on work when I’m sitting in my messy house and all I can really think of is how I should be cleaning it and I have noticed lately that I’m plugging my kids into the TV WAY too much, just so I can get work done. I’m at that point where I don’t feel like I’m doing anything well, I feel like a crap writer and a crap mom!
This is a big step — and not at all a step 16-year-old feminist Dana would approve of. But you know what? 37-year-old feminist Dana is also a realist and she says I have to try. If I don’t like it then it’s probably the wrong choice for our family but if I do…