12 Hours is Enough

My feelings as a mom who works 12-hour shifts

Working 12-hour shifts is a enough. Or even too much.

It’s a slow burn, I’m in the “zone”, completely  focused and in “work-mode” and all the while I forget that the rest of the world is still happening.

Is it raining, sunny, cloudy I don’t know.

Did something major happen in the world?  Only if it’s worthy of a news ping to my watch.

But waking up the next morning feels a bit like picking up the pieces. I ask my kids how their days went, I look through the mail. I turn on the news, I read the emails I missed.

I catch up on laundry, and take note of the groceries to buy. Listen to the podcasts I’ve missed, make appointments, and pay the bills. I go back to the gym, I integrate myself back into my mom-role. My favorite role.

People will often say “oh that’s so nice you get more days off a week” when I tell them my schedule. “Two days on, two days off” I tell them, quickly followed by “and every other weekend”. I am a Pharmacist.

But is my schedule “nice” it? I often wonder.

Are my days off enough to compensate for the days I’m completely gone?

I struggle with this.

I enjoy my work.

I am making a difference.

I went to school for this.

I’ve been working this schedule for 8 years, at this point I don’t know anything different.

It was easier before kids; this schedule.

When they were babies it was easier, for them. Not easier for me, but I justified it saying “They wouldn’t remember mom being away at work”.

But now it’s clear they do.

I wasn’t missing so much then, but now I miss our (somewhat organized) family dinners, a bedtime routine that is actually a routine. Evening walks, story time and bubble baths, these little moments that add up into big memories.

Is the time I’m home with them enough?

My son now waits for me to get home at night. I try to leave work on time, at nine pm on the dot. It doesn’t aways happen, but it does happen more knowing he’s waiting. It’s past an acceptable bedtime, but I make this exception. He’s 7 and he wants to tell me about his day. I listen, exhausted, and then it’s off to bed. I try to give him enough of my time, even on my long days.

I’m in a season when I’m constantly questioning if I’m giving enough, resting enough, and showing up for my kids enough. And simultaneously wondering when is enough, enough?

This post is part of a blog hop with Exhale—an online community of women pursuing creativity alongside motherhood, led by the writing team behind Coffee + Crumbs. Click here to view the next post in the series "Enough".