Scraping By

I'm sure there are friends, family and acquaintances who would state with certainty that I screwed up big when I left a good job permanently rather than take 6 weeks maternity leave.  After all, it was my job that has afforded my family an easy lifestyle in which we knew the bills would be paid, we could maintain a roof over our heads, food would be on the table and we could take a nice vacation now and then.

As further proof that I screwed up, I am finding it difficult to find another job in that pay grade, let alone a lower pay grade.  I can't even get called for jobs that don't require a degree.  I've applied for over 50 jobs in the past month, and I've been called for two interviews.  I cancelled one.  It was too similar to the job I just left.  I don't want to live my work anymore.  I want to work and then come home and live.

And even further proof I screwed up?  Daycare in this area where we live is not affordable with two babies.  The job I left was in a city where daycare is more than half the price of what I will end up paying here.  If I accept a job, it has to be at a certain starting salary, because with daycare expenses we may as well be paying a full-time employee $10 an hour.  It's the same cost.  If I took a starter job at $11 an hour, I would actually be bringing home $1 an hour.  Before taxes.

So, did I screw up?  Everyone might think so, but I don't think so.

We've weighed this out and we've decided that I will keep looking for a job and if I receive an offer at a certain minimum salary I will accept it; but, until then, I'm staying home with the babies and applying for disability for Clara.  I think that added income will keep us out of the red.  We may come out flat (we hope), but we will manage (we hope).  And as long as I get to stay home with these two wonderful creatures that keep my own my toes, Momma's happy.  This is what I want.  This is what I have desperately wanted since I found out last November that Clara would be born with Down syndrome.

It's slightly scary.  But, if I don't get called for interviews I'm not going to worry about it anymore.  Daddy thinks we can do this.  So do I.

Welcome me to being poor.  But happy.  Go me.