I began graduate school this week. I was accepted into an online program through my alma mater, Arizona State University, to get my Master of Education in Curriculum and Instruction specializing in Gifted Education. The decision to go back to school in itself was not really that hard of a choice, given that I always planned to do so at some point. But the fact that I am doing it now is part of a "bigger picture" choice that has been very hard for me: the choice to stay home with my kids.
The short book answer is to just blame the choice on external circumstances. The car accident in March 2012 prevented me from taking the AZ teacher certification exams in enough time to get certified by both Arizona and then Utah before all the jobs for the 2012-13 school year were filled. I then failed one of the Utah certification exams by one single point and was not left with enough time to retake it before the 2013-14 school year began this month. So yes, it has technically been impossible for me to even apply for a full-time teaching position at a public school since I received my Bachelor's degree almost sixteen months ago. But....but. I could have applied at private and charter schools that do not require state certification. I could have applied to be a substitute teacher and maybe work three or four (or maybe even five?) days a week. I could have looked for jobs working as a teacher assistant or working at the district office. And then of course I could have decided to pursue some kind of employment outside of the field of education altogether. But I didn't.
Instead I chose to conceive a baby two week after I graduated, completely aware that meant I would be staying home throughout the entire pregnancy (thanks to Hyperemesis). And then after I failed the World History Praxis (don't even get me started on the hell that is that test) I chose not to pursue any other jobs until I pass the damn test (God willing) and can apply for teaching jobs next year. And the reason is simple: I want to stay home with my baby. But that choice has been very hard for me. So hard, even, that I have not even been able to write about it here until now.
It has been hard because I gave up almost all of my son's precious baby-hood many years ago to go to school full time and work part time so that I could someday give him the life he deserved. I worked my butt off for five very long years to get my degree so that I could help support my family. And half of me argues that now is the time for the bill to come due, for me to go out there and earn a salary and contribute. That now is the time to make good on those promises I made to myself late at night when I would hold my baby boy in my arms and cry because I was so exhausted and so stressed and feeling so guilty for missing all the wonderfully cute things he did that day.
But then the other half of me reminds me that money was not the only reason I did it. I did it because I love to learn and I love to teach. I love to use my brain. I love to feel like I'm making myself better and may somehow make the world better if I try. I did it because I wanted to show my son that he can do the very same things, that he can make hard choices and make his life what he wants it to be no matter what obstacles are in front of him. And you know what? I did that. I instilled in him a love of learning, a dedication to hard work and an intense desire to go to college by the time he was only five years old.
But what about the job part? What about showing him the importance of using his education? What about showing him the importance of choosing a career that makes a difference in the world and that he cares about even if it pays very little? And what about the fact that Pete and I have already had to start teaching Ryan the importance of not wasting the talents he is blessed with (if you know Ryan you probably know what this is referring to), yet here I am sitting on a Bachelor's degree that my own husband would kill to have and I have yet to work a single day outside of my home since it was handed to me?
Sigh.
And then it all comes back full circle to those memories of holding my baby boy in my arms and crying. Because I missed him. I missed so much of the precious time when he was little. To this day I have very few memories of his first two years of life other than urgent care waiting rooms and being up all night with a sick or teething baby. And I don't want to do it again. I don't want to miss my baby again. Back then I always knew I was doing the right thing, because six years ago I had no other choice. I was single, I was 21 years old, I had no place to call home, I was fighting to give my baby the life I wanted for him. And now? He has that life. He has a mother and father who love each other and love him. He has a nice home in a great neighborhood. He goes to a good school, he plays sports. He wears cute clothes and has so many toys he doesn't even know what to do with them. And most importantly, he is smart, he knows how to pray, he values the importance of doing his homework and he loves to read. While Pete and I still strive to give him even more (maybe a dog...or a college fund...), the fact of the matter is that I did come through on the sacrifices I made, even if I have yet to get a real job. And now it is time to give my daughter the one thing that I could not do back then, which is to simply be here. Because this time around, I do have a choice. And that is something I should be incredibly grateful for.
So I made the choice to stay home for one more year. And then I made the choice to pursue a Master's degree online in the meantime...because I still love to learn and love to teach. I still love to use my brain. I still like to feel like I'm making myself better and may somehow make the word better someday. And I still want to teach my children that they can do the same things. And of course there's the fact that I am advancing my career, improving my teaching skills and expanding my job opportunities for whenever the time comes that I do go to work...so that's good too.
But the choice has still been hard. I have struggled with feeling like I'm not using my talents and that I'm not doing "enough" by staying home (albeit temporarily) with my kids. And then I read this awesome article that a friend posted on facebook...and my entire perspective changed. (Go read it. Now.) I realized that I am working. I am making a difference in the world, because I am making a difference in my children's lives. Even if I never make it to my own classroom (highly unlikely, because I really cannot wait to begin teaching, but I guess you never know), my children will still become smarter, better educated, more cultured and diverse leaders of the next generation because of the efforts I have made in my own education. Thankfully, that belief makes this choice just a little bit easier.
So here's to hard choices, grad school, and one more year (or maybe more?) of baby memories.
And naps. Let's not forget that part.
Instead I chose to conceive a baby two week after I graduated, completely aware that meant I would be staying home throughout the entire pregnancy (thanks to Hyperemesis). And then after I failed the World History Praxis (don't even get me started on the hell that is that test) I chose not to pursue any other jobs until I pass the damn test (God willing) and can apply for teaching jobs next year. And the reason is simple: I want to stay home with my baby. But that choice has been very hard for me. So hard, even, that I have not even been able to write about it here until now.
It has been hard because I gave up almost all of my son's precious baby-hood many years ago to go to school full time and work part time so that I could someday give him the life he deserved. I worked my butt off for five very long years to get my degree so that I could help support my family. And half of me argues that now is the time for the bill to come due, for me to go out there and earn a salary and contribute. That now is the time to make good on those promises I made to myself late at night when I would hold my baby boy in my arms and cry because I was so exhausted and so stressed and feeling so guilty for missing all the wonderfully cute things he did that day.
But then the other half of me reminds me that money was not the only reason I did it. I did it because I love to learn and I love to teach. I love to use my brain. I love to feel like I'm making myself better and may somehow make the world better if I try. I did it because I wanted to show my son that he can do the very same things, that he can make hard choices and make his life what he wants it to be no matter what obstacles are in front of him. And you know what? I did that. I instilled in him a love of learning, a dedication to hard work and an intense desire to go to college by the time he was only five years old.
But what about the job part? What about showing him the importance of using his education? What about showing him the importance of choosing a career that makes a difference in the world and that he cares about even if it pays very little? And what about the fact that Pete and I have already had to start teaching Ryan the importance of not wasting the talents he is blessed with (if you know Ryan you probably know what this is referring to), yet here I am sitting on a Bachelor's degree that my own husband would kill to have and I have yet to work a single day outside of my home since it was handed to me?
Sigh.
And then it all comes back full circle to those memories of holding my baby boy in my arms and crying. Because I missed him. I missed so much of the precious time when he was little. To this day I have very few memories of his first two years of life other than urgent care waiting rooms and being up all night with a sick or teething baby. And I don't want to do it again. I don't want to miss my baby again. Back then I always knew I was doing the right thing, because six years ago I had no other choice. I was single, I was 21 years old, I had no place to call home, I was fighting to give my baby the life I wanted for him. And now? He has that life. He has a mother and father who love each other and love him. He has a nice home in a great neighborhood. He goes to a good school, he plays sports. He wears cute clothes and has so many toys he doesn't even know what to do with them. And most importantly, he is smart, he knows how to pray, he values the importance of doing his homework and he loves to read. While Pete and I still strive to give him even more (maybe a dog...or a college fund...), the fact of the matter is that I did come through on the sacrifices I made, even if I have yet to get a real job. And now it is time to give my daughter the one thing that I could not do back then, which is to simply be here. Because this time around, I do have a choice. And that is something I should be incredibly grateful for.
So I made the choice to stay home for one more year. And then I made the choice to pursue a Master's degree online in the meantime...because I still love to learn and love to teach. I still love to use my brain. I still like to feel like I'm making myself better and may somehow make the word better someday. And I still want to teach my children that they can do the same things. And of course there's the fact that I am advancing my career, improving my teaching skills and expanding my job opportunities for whenever the time comes that I do go to work...so that's good too.
But the choice has still been hard. I have struggled with feeling like I'm not using my talents and that I'm not doing "enough" by staying home (albeit temporarily) with my kids. And then I read this awesome article that a friend posted on facebook...and my entire perspective changed. (Go read it. Now.) I realized that I am working. I am making a difference in the world, because I am making a difference in my children's lives. Even if I never make it to my own classroom (highly unlikely, because I really cannot wait to begin teaching, but I guess you never know), my children will still become smarter, better educated, more cultured and diverse leaders of the next generation because of the efforts I have made in my own education. Thankfully, that belief makes this choice just a little bit easier.
So here's to hard choices, grad school, and one more year (or maybe more?) of baby memories.
And naps. Let's not forget that part.
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