Being a working mother is too hard.

I am having a very bad day. Izzy woke up right when it was time for me to get up, and I couldn't get him to go back to sleep, which always makes my mornings very difficult. He won't play by himself in the mornings. He just wants held, which I what I also want to do, but can't, which makes for a tough morning for both of us.

He fussed and carried on all morning, then I couldn't get everything together, and I had to make about 10 trips back upstairs, which meant I was 15 minutes late leaving. I get to mom's and dad gets mad when I don't want to go look at his new brick sidewalk again because I'm running late, so I go look, tell him I already saw it, and he gets mad and says that he's never coming to my house to look at anything again. I yell back that it's 20 minutes after eight and I'm going to get fired, and besides, he didn't look at the nursery yesterday when he was at my house.

Then I'm ticked so I drive away, and I forget to wave at Izzy who I'm not going to see until late tonight, because I have to work until 8:30 or 9:00, and then he'll probably be in bed when I do get home.

Then I get stuck behind a 100 different jackasses who can't drive, and I get here 15 minutes late. One of my coworkers yells at me as soon as I step off the elevator, and she's standing right in front of the president's office, which, of course, let's the boss know exactly when I got here. She says they want to have a meeting with us in a few minutes - this couldn't wait until they decided to have it??

Then the boss comes down the hall and tells me it's time to meet, then he says, "Car trouble again? You know we start here at 8:30." He's being very snide, because he knows I'm late all the time. He was second in command until a week ago, and he always gives me a hard time.

I say, "Well you may as well go ahead and fire me because I don't ever see me getting here on time for a full week again." All the way up the hall he's whining about how I better start getting up earlier, and I say, "You ever tried getting ready with a one and a half year old?" He says, "I had three." I say, "And who got them ready?" He says, "My wife and me." I go, "Hmmph." Because he was never there, see - he traveled to different worksites when his girls were young.

We get in his office, and the coworker who gave me away goes in right before me, and I say, "Besides, since I'm going to be working until 9:00 until tonight, I'll be more than making it up." He's a little embarrassed because my coworker is listening now, and I'm practically yelling, and I can tell my eyes are blaring. He says, "I know but the rest of us start at 8:30." My coworker says, referring to what I said, "It's true, she does always work late." He says, "I know, but starting time is 8:30." I say, "Yeah, and quitting time is 4:30." Then the new second in command, who's really the boss we have to work with the most now, walked in looking around to see what's going on, because there is no hiding that I'm pissed.

The big boss is very nervous. He starts moving stuff around on his desk, and punching keys aimlessly on his laptop, and starts shifting it around on his desk. I threw one arm behind the chair and stretched out, which now I think was a subconscious way of making myself look even bigger and project more confidence.

Was I late? Yes. Am I going to be putting in four and a half hours of unpaid overtime tonight? YES! I'm salaried, so it should not matter if I'm late. In fact, I have been late for most of the time for nearly 10 years! It's time to either forget about it or fire me. I'm clearly not changing.

I am so fired up now. I know some women can do it all, but I can't. I am so out of here either after the first of the year, or if I get pregnant before then, maybe after I have the next baby. It's not fair to Izzy, it's not fair to me, and truthfully, it's not fair to my workplace, because I just don't care about my job anymore. I hate to quit anything. I just wish they would realize they can't afford me anymore, and have to let me go. Then I'd get unemployment for a while, and a good reference letter for when I go back to work after the kid(s) start school.

Things just got worse. He just walked back down the hall, and as soon as he looked in the door, he looked nervous again, and I knew he was going to say something about it again, which he did. He'd already been down here twice before this visit, but he was too scared to say anything during those trips, but on this one his body language gave it away. He says, "I know things are getting really busy now and everyone is getting testy." I say, "Yeah." He then says, "I just want you to work harder to get here on time." I say, "For ten years now I've been consistently late and I've tried to get here on time, and I just can't." He says, "I'm asking you to try harder." I say, "You've asked me, Joe (old boss) asked me, everyone has asked me, and I really hate being late. There's just too much to do now" He says, "Now? But you've always been late. What caused it before the baby?" What a prick. I tell him the truth, which he knows, "I just couldn't wake up then. Now I get up early and I just can't do it."

Then, much to my deep shame, TEARS SPRING TO MY EYES! This is so NOT me. I am just flaming pissed, both at myself for being late, and at him for being such a jerk about it. He moves closer to me, but thank God he doesn't touch me, and now I'm the one who's shuffling papers and keeping my hands busy. Stupid freaking hormones. He says something again about just trying harder, and I say, "You know what? I just can't do it all. I know some women can, but I just can't." He says, "I know your priorities have probably changed now [I nod my head yes]and I know you love your job [I don't know if this was a threat or him understanding what I deal with] but we're a small staff and we have so much to do in such a short time and we need everybody here helping." He's trying to be nice, and his intent for coming down the hall was to basically smooth things over with me, but jeez!!! JEEZ!!! I'm thinking much stronger words here, ones that I'm too embarrassed to type. I just shook my head noncommittally and he walked back down the hall.

I know I should be on time, and it tears me up to be late. I HATE to be late. Before, I was late every week or two. Right after I had the baby, I was on time all the time, because I got up so early. Now, Chris gets up much later, and gets me up much later, and sometimes I can do it, sometimes I can't. I usually about 3 or 4 minutes late three or four times a week. I'm only more than five minutes late about every 4 or 5 months. So yes, I am a little late all the time now, BUT I WORK LATE WAY MORE TIME THAN I'M EVER LATE GETTING HERE. That's what makes me angry. Who cares if I'm a little late if I work a half hour late every evening, and through my lunch hour nearly every single day?

Izzy doesn't care if I'm late, as long as I get there. I've got to quit working here soon, and focus on what really matters.