It has been way too long since my last post and for that I am sorry. My blogs are all about life, and it is that very thing that has gotten in the way of my writing. It takes an inspired frame of mind for me to post something. I want to feel like my words actually make some kind of a difference, even if it is only to a few people.
Sadly, I haven’t written because I was buried under pounds and pounds of breath sucking, body crushing, gut wrenching, all encompassing life. Yes, the very thing that I write so passionately about, the very thing that made me begin writing, is also the very thing that has kept me from writing.
Not to make it sound as if my life has been so terrible in the past few months that I was unable to write, but more so that my life has been so full in the past few months that I have had nothing left to offer. No thoughts, no stories, no pictures of kids, no laughter, no nothing. I have literally felt empty.
I still feel empty, but I am forcing words to come out of my heart and beat through my hands as I type. It is slow and steady tonight, as the words don’t pour out but rather drip. With each drip, however, I hope to regain the passion that I had only a few months ago. I’ve had so many things that I’ve wanted to share and say. I’ve tried several times to articulate my thoughts only to come up empty.
My family has shared in several changes over the past months and I am positive that all of them have contributed to my emptiness. The largest contributor I am sure, is my job, and I don’t mean the 168 hours I work weekly as a mom and wife. I am working many hours outside of our home and they have taken a toll both on my family and on myself.
I had started working at a new restaurant, something that a year and a half ago I had sworn that I would never do again. It is just one of those jobs that are so easy to fall back in to. The money is good and the hours are flexible…. usually, anyways. None the less, I am good at it and so back I fall into the old patterns.
Well quickly I realize that being a server is not what I want to do. Once again I try to move myself up. I end up supervising within no time at all.
This is the beginning of the end.
I am a very good supervisor. I love doing it. I supervise my home and the lives of three other people every single day. I supervise what they eat, how they dress, what they read, who they play with, what they play with. I schedule everything and fit everything in. I multi-task and make everything work. I budget time and money and I sacrifice myself and everything that I can to make sure the business of my home runs smoothly. Supervising is what I do well.
When I started supervising again at work I felt so invigorated. It was about time that I was doing something that I enjoyed and that I was good at. It made me feel full for just a moment. I felt successful… a feeling that I have not felt since before I was pregnant with my first baby.
That may sound harsh, but having children hasn’t made me feel successful. Having children has made me feel special and amazing. I’ve felt on top of the world as a Mom and I’ve felt on the bottom of the pile as Mom also. I’ve felt pure joy and and immeasurable love that I would trade for nothing, but I’ve never felt successful. I’ve felt accomplished, determined, overwhelmed, excited, happy and a million other feelings. Some good feelings, and some bad. Through all of it so far, I’ve never felt successful. I’ve felt like a good mom, I’ve felt like a bad mom. I’ve felt insecure and I’ve felt like and inspiration. I’ve never felt successful.
Maybe the feeling of success for a mom does come down the road, when you watch your child graduate. Or you see them off to college. Perhaps they marry and have a family of their own. All of this sounds lovely, but it is so far off. My oldest is six. College is just a little far off to think that this will be the next time that I can feel successful. Maybe just maybe, I deserve success now.
This leads to the ever present problem. It seems that in the industry that I just so happen to have the most experience, that families just don’t fit in. Managers in a restaurant will work 50 hours at a minimum. The ones that I work with now work around 70 a week. They wouldn’t have a day off if it weren’t for myself and another supervisor.
Where I work, breaks are a luxury. By breaks I mean more than a five minute smoke break in a 10-14 hour shift. Calling home to say goodnight just doesn’t seem to fit in. A lunch break to eat is hardly an option. Pack snacks if you are hungry because a double shift means I’ll see you tomorrow.
Mind blowing that an industry that is so centered around caring for people, cares so little for the ones that work in it. No holidays off, no vacations, no life. Forget your family. Forget your life. Forget it all.
I have watched over the past few months as this place has beaten the spirits of those that have given all they have just to work there. Like myself, they are good at what they do. They may or may not have been looking for the success that I was. Maybe for them it was solely the paycheck…. Not that I don’t desperately need the check as well. They all have had something to offer, and each one has been used and defeated.
I have made friends and I have watched them move on in a very short time. I take each shift as a potential last with most of these people. I have come to realize that the “success” that I may want, will never be found in this business, and NEVER found in This restaurant. To achieve such “success” I would have to be willing to give up on the valuable time shared with my family. I would have to sacrifice my life.
The definition of success has once again changed for myself. I can not achieve success without my family. I will not achieve it without my family.I am an excellent employee, and a great supervisor. I am someone that you want to hire. I never realized that having kids could make working so difficult. If the only thing that I get to supervise is my home, than I will.
I am sad that I had a taste of something that I once had prior to mommyhood. That taste was a teaser and an eye opener. I see once again that this industry is not for me.
Sadly, I have spent the entire day working on my resume and applying for jobs that might care that I have a family. I will probably find nothing that will pay close to what I make in a restaurant. I will have to make more sacrifices financially and emotionally. I will have to swallow, that until my kids are grown, I just don’t have the time to be successful. I will have to settle for happy instead!
Sorry it’s been so long!