March 13, 2023, was supposed to be a great day. For goodness sake, I made it to work on time. Stacy, at Starbucks, was even running 15 minutes late on my order due to short staffing. Again, March 13, 2023, was supposed to be a great day. I got to work and made my first call. I called one of my clients who typically gives me a run for my money regarding his case. Guess what?!? He was on top of his game and followed my instructions to the T that I gave him the week before. I continued following up on a few of my clients, and they were all in tip-top shape. Even more so, March 13, 2023, was supposed to be a great day.
Two hours in, my husband called. My heart rapidly dropped, and I immediately started panicking because nothing good ever happens when your husband calls you before lunchtime. “Which kid?!” I frantically asked. He replied, “Both kids are safe, but I take it that you didn’t see the email that the preschool sent out.” I placed him on a brief hold as I began reading the email. As I continued to read, I could feel my eyes bulging out of their sockets.
It read, “Last Friday, March 10, we became aware of an injury incurred by a child in our 2-year-old room just prior to closing. The injury to the child was reported to the parents during pick-up time. CPS, local law enforcement, and licensing were at the school today, Monday, March 13, to investigate the matter… As a result of their investigation, the supervising teacher was charged in the incident and the teacher is no longer employed.”
March 13 was no longer a great day. As a matter of fact, it was turned into “Vially and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day.” It goes without saying that my child comes before work, and to be truthful, no work was going to get done that day. I rushed to his school and picked up my 2-year-old. “Mommy’s here!” my son screamed to his substitute teacher. For him, it was a normal pick-up, but for me, it was a state of emergency. He ran over to me and gave me the biggest hug with sheer excitement because he gets to go home early and play with his toys. The reciprocated hug was my apology to him. I know there’s no way I could’ve predicted that outcome, but Mom’s guilt knows when to rear its ugly head and settle in.
That very night, my husband and I discussed every possible option. Our main dilemma was that we don’t have family in Jacksonville, and it was a move made due to my job promotion. The only option that made sense was for me to become a stay-at-home mom. After listing our pros and cons, we took a few days to prayerfully think things through. By Friday, we made the decision that it is in our family’s best interest that I become a stay-at-home mom to give us that peace of mind. I’ve been in the corporate environment since college, so the decision was no easy feat, but necessary.
Fast forward, I’m a week in as a SAHM, and I couldn’t be happier. I’ve learned a few things in such a short period of time. For starters, my son has taught me that having a routine is key, food will more likely be on the floor than on his plate, and be ready to negotiate every instruction given to a 2-year-old with a 2-year-old. Now, will being a stay-at-home mom be a permanent decision? Truthfully, I don’t know. I’m taking every day one day at a time. As of right now, one thing I know for sure is that my family needs me.