I've decided my calling is not to be employed full time outside the home. Really, I'm called to be a parent. There is no justification for the distraction of me working here, except for the mortgage and the cushy lifestyle we've desired and become accustomed to. And he and I have talked about it: if we had a kid, it would be financially irresponsible of me to quit. I'm not going to be an irresponsible parent, either, and I'm not going to pay a stranger to play peek-a-boo with my baby because I didn't figure out how to get this done right.
I hate spring. I can ignore this calling at other times of the year. But really, should I? I mean, my mom was right. I feel like crap in the springtime, and it's because I'm a married 33-year-old Catholic woman with no kids. In fact, deliberately medicating myself to keep from having kids. My life is wrong, fundamentally. And there's no easy way to make it right.
It's not supposed to be easy, is it?
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