An Open Apology From a Working Mom

Dear vacuum, broom, and dust pan, I’m sorry I’ve been neglecting you. After working all day, you’re the last things I want to spend my time with.

To my friends, I do want to get together. I’m not just saying that. During the day, I’m distracted by disbursement authorizations. At night, I’m surrounded by bathroom humor -- the perils of living with boys. I could really use a night on the town. But by the time I think about calling you, my eyelids are heavy. And The Middle is on.

I’m just being honest.

To my pastor, you’re a brilliant man. Seriously. My dozing off in the middle of your Sunday sermon is not indicative of lackluster delivery or boring content. I’m just. So. Tired.

To yoga, walking, and other exercises I once performed regularly periodically, I will come back. I promise. For now, I’m taking the stairs, parking further from work, and doing “Just Dance 3” with my sons.

To my long-distance friends and family, I love you, I really do. But if you’re not on Facebook, I probably won’t be in contact. It’s not ideal, but then, neither is Facebook.

And to my fellow working moms, I’m appalled that I ever questioned your commitment to our sons’ school. Why did I look down on you because you couldn’t make it to the Groundhog Day party? Never again.

I know now what I didn’t know before, that you’re doing the best you can in the midst of a crazy-busy life. You most likely want to be a driver on a field trip. But you also want to keep the job that helps pay for the field trip and the lunches and the raffles.

Finally, to my hobbies, I remember our time together with fondness. I certainly spent plenty of money purchasing necessities like mini paper cutters, industrial-strength adhesive, and pacifier-shaped cut-outs when my firstborn was a toddler. Since then, however, your appeal has faded.

The choice is clear. I’m sorry to be so blunt, but I side with sleeping, reading, and spending time with my family.

And for that, I make no apologies.

Image by Alessandra Oddi. Used with permission. Sourced via Flickr. Post is an edited reprint by High Calling Welcome Editor Dena Dyer.