It’s been a difficult fall for us out here at the Acreage. Of course, it hasn’t been as difficult as years past, when we’ve struggled to make ends meet and juggled looming responsibility with crazy uncertainty. In fact, that area of our lives has been a calm oasis. But the changes in our life this year have been a huge transition.

I lost my job, I experienced a huge betrayal of trust, I found a new job, I left my business, I started a fresh professional outlook, I started a new job, I transitioned, and from the outside, it would appear that we thrived.

But we haven’t. Every tear shed in the morning as I try to pull my kids out of their beds at 5:30am and into the car. Every minute lost with them in these formative years. Every fight at bedtime, every extra hug and kiss squeezed in because there were none during the day.

Every small anxiety about dayhome drop-offs and pick-ups when one of us is working late … when kids are sick all the time, trying to cover their symptoms because we don’t have the flexibility to stay home … scheduling life around work, weighing the pros and cons of every decision and putting things off inevitably.

Every snap of my temper, literally over spilled milk.

Every night, turning into bed before 9pm just to get enough rest.

Seeing my children for less than 3 hours a day, and my husband for even less.

Working around the clock in my mind, trying to create a professional name for myself without the time to devote to actually building that professional persona. Not wanting to be a persona, but rather just wanting to be myself. Fighting an uphill battle with a lot of support, but not a lot of heart left in myself.

Spread too thin, I suppose.

So I left.

I left the professional persona and turned off all my social media. I spent my evenings cuddled up on the couch listening to my bugz talk to me instead of reading, researching, writing or tweeting. I gave them my full attention, and when they went to bed, Leith and I would talk.

We made lists of pros and cons, of expenses and incomes. We looked at the benefits and drawbacks of his job and new position there. We talked about our future and current needs and wants. We explored every option and then I gave my notice.

My last day of work will be November 10. From there on, I will be a mom to my girls and a wife to my husband. Nothing more, nothing less. I will be home for my girls every day, and when Leith’s job takes him away, there will be no scrambling and no stress for us. There will be no need for backup sitters and schedules rearranged.

It will just be.

My girls will have their mommy at their disposal – something we have never had before as I tried to first juggle parenting with being a work-at-home mom and then a work-away mom. They only have 2 more years before they start full days of school, and I don’t want to miss them anymore.

Before, it was a matter of have to work. I needed to fill in the gap between Leith’s salary and our needs. We’re past that point, thanks to some hard work and smart behaviour from both of us. It makes no sense to sacrifice our quality of life for a little bit of money. I even turned down the chance at having my dream job (with my dream boss, no less!) and a bigger paycheque.

It’s not about the money. I can’t think of a single opportunity that would come up that I would take right now. My family needs me as a wife and mother, and we are so blessed to finally be in a position to allow that. It means that I will not be taking on any outside work, other than the odd presentation once in awhile. I want to hold my babeez while they are still young enough to hold and to be the one raising them every day rather than turning the reigns over to someone else.

We haven’t had the choice before now. I had to work in some capacity, and I feel as though my role as a mother was sacrificed during that time. I have the choice now, and this is the choice I want to make.

As sad as I am to leave this job and the wonderful people I’ve met, I am looking forward to the day that my girls and I wake up slowly and enjoy our breakfast together. I’m looking forward to making snowmen in the yard without thinking about the work I should be doing. I can’t wait to do little things like walk to our mailbox and make cookies.

I can’t wait to stop waiting for our life to begin._uacct = “UA-4888259-1″;urchinTracker();