I was a bit glum yesterday and stressed about the financial consequences of the loss of my income. I went to look at apartments. They were OK but definitely apartments. My husband had to have an emergency root canal, which ended up being an inconvenience because I had to pick up both kids and make dinner on a day when he normally does it. Then, there was the financial side, $500 we had to shell out for what was supposed to be a routine visit to the dentist for a cleaning. By the time, I got home and had someone food cooking on the stove, I was starting to feel pretty fragile. I called my mom and nearly broke down. I wanted to talk but more than that I just wanted to hear her voice. I wanted someone to comfort me. “It’s been hard”, I said. “I know”, she said. I lamented my difficult week: the interrupted sleep because of my daughter’s transition to the toddler bed, my house being a mess, how tired I felt, how stressed I felt about my whole quandary, and how unsure I was about everything that we were about to do. I’m sure that my mother has some apprehension about what I’m about to do. She even mentioned that she had tried to stay home a few times and had mixed results. But she supports me and would never say that what I’m doing is crazy or try to dissuade me. That is part of what is frustrating about my mom. I can never get a great read on what she is thinking because often she won’t tell me straight out. She did her best to comfort me and give me some pointers on how to work through my feelings. I have a lot to learn from her still. I hope I can be half as good a mother to my girls as she was to me.
Part of my downward spiral yesterday came because I was discussing my plans with a family friend briefly. When I mentioned that I’d looked at apartments that day because we would need to downsize to a more affordable place, a look came across his face that was a mixture of surprise, pity, and maybe even a tinge of disgust. Don’t get me wrong. He is a great guy, very free thinking and liberal but he saw our decision to downsize as a real negative instead of the positive that I’ve been trying to spin it to myself. I know that his perspective will be probably be more common than not. A lot of people I know will probably think that moving into an apartment is a serious step down in status. While I was somewhat prepared for his reaction, it still hit home. I didn’t really need any more negative feedback because I’m having enough trouble with this decision myself. I think part of my struggle is that there is so much time to think about this. I have another month and a half before I even give notice at my job. I need to stay through April to pad our savings a bit more. I have a month and a half to wallow in self doubt before I take the step to make this a reality instead of my constant fixation. My daughter asked me yesterday, “Are you still going to quit your job, Mom?”. I was happy to say yes and tell her when I’d be home for good.