It's a border I haven't dared cross for nearly eight years: that fine line between being a stay-at-home mother and a working parent. But these past few weeks I've come close, so close I could almost smell the ink on the pay stub. And it felt good.
It wasn't for the money---don't get me wrong; that would be nice---but more for the recognition, gratitude, and admiration that comes from working at something at which you excel. Motherhood is rewarding, but it's inherently lonely. Not that the Captain and the girls don't show their appreciation--they do. But it's a long haul, both for those who give and those who receive. The human body is a master at accommodation. We stop smelling, feeling, and hearing that which we sense all the time. We're not ungratious; it's just how we're wired.
As it turns out, I didn't get the job. Some day I will be the teacher a kid never forgets. Just not now.