I am an impatient person. When I decide to change something about my life or to move on to another phase, I go just about crazy waiting for the “new” to start. The result is that I often wind up missing the fun of the here and now. I try to relax and enjoy the moments because I know that the next phase will be here soon enough, but I’m still just biding my time.
This week, however, I got a letter that made me freak out for a minute about my next phase.
I have decided to quit my job as a teacher in order to stay home with my kids. I started teaching in the 2000-2001 school year and I student taught before that so this has been a big part of my life for the last decade. I love teaching–I love the students, the creativity that comes with my job, and having a captive audience that is forced to listen to what I like about history. My own children do not seem as enthralled with the Roman Empire as I am.
But daycare is really expensive, my children are really little, and the Fulton County Board of Education has decided to “furlough” us, which is a euphemism for “don’t come to work and we won’t pay you any money.” So on Tuesday, I gave my principal my letter of resignation.
And in an amazing burst of efficiency, I received an official separation from the County in the mail on Friday. These are the same people who have fingerprinted me 6 times, who took 6 weeks to send me vital insurance information to prevent my entire family from being uninsured, and who made me take a class on how to be a substitute after I was already a certified teacher.
To actually get a processed piece of information 3 days after my initial letter was amazing. And it made me cry.
It spells out that I have resigned after several years of service and that it is not because of a lack of work that I am leaving my job. It is official and important looking and made me afraid for the significant change that is about to happen to my life.
I’m not a teacher anymore. I’m not on leave, as I was in the past when I took time off with my kids, and I have no connection to the public school system for the first time since I was 5.
This time, my ability to look ahead is a good thing for me. I am excited about our third baby to come, grateful that I am able to walk away from a job, and scared to death that I will be a bad stay-at-home mommy. I really don’t like the PTA, you know.
So, here it goes. My attempt at a different career path. I’m looking forward to it.