A lot has changed in my life the past few months. I’ve traded my 40 hour-a-week office job for a 24-7 home job. I’ve traded musical opportunities for chances to experience all hours of the night. I’ve swapped Saturday and Sundays of leisure for Saturdays and Sundays that feel pretty much the same as Tuesdays and Wednesdays, only busier.
Last night I was in a rehearsal (I haven’t traded all of my musical opportunities) and listening to a fellow musician explaining matter-of-factly that she and her husband were looking to buy a bigger house. The one they had just wasn’t big enough for them and their little one-year-old boy. With two of her younger sisters living with them, 4 bedrooms just wasn’t enough. And I thought to myself, “You already have a 4 bedroom house? You’re barely 4 years older than me!”
At the end of rehearsal she pulled out of the parking lot in an expensive-looking, giant SUV. And I thought to myself, “You already have an enormous vehicle that looks like it’s brand new? You were a music ed major like me in college…we don’t make money!”
Typically such wealth at an early age would cause me to scoff at the individual, wondering how much debt was accruing. “Such foolish choices they are making!” But this particular person holds a lot of respect from me—she is very common-sensical, intelligent, talented, and wise. Instead of mentally touting my virtues and dismissing her into the “Well, I’m better than they are” group, I got jealous.
Arriving home, I climbed out of our compact car with 170,000 miles to its name and thought, “It sure would be nice to have a newer, bigger vehicle that I don’t conk my head against every time I try to put the baby in his car seat. It would also be nice to have a vehicle that doesn’t break down every month and doesn’t look like it’s survived (barely) numerous Rochester winters.” I then walked into my small apartment and surveyed the clutter in the living room. (Because, you see, opting for a rehearsal every so often means that the house becomes messy in less than 3.1415 hours.) And I thought to myself, “Someday it sure would be nice to have a whole house instead of just an apartment. It would be great to have extra space and closets to keep things. I wish we didn’t have to have piles of stuff lying around or have to store our clothes in Rubbermaid bins.”
And then I walked into the kitchen, where my husband was sitting in this very chair, enjoying a precious few moments to do some Hebrew. (I know that might not seem very relaxing, but it’s equivalent to most people watching a little television.) He puts the baby to bed on Monday nights, and I could tell immediately that it hadn't gone smoothly this time. My eyes met his exhausted ones, and all of the “I wishes” and “It sure would be nices” melted away in front of me. Because, you see, he is working, always working, so that I don’t have to. He comes home after 8PM several nights a week because he is stringing together this and that to cover the income I was bringing in from my office job. And he’s doing it because he loves me and he loves our little boy. He is my champion.
Before we crawled into bed, I peeked in on baby James in his bassinet. His gentle breathing, long eyelashes, and precious baby nose peeked back at me. And I fully realized that lesson you hear all your life and believe in your head about “family is more important than money.” Yeah, yeah—of course it is…but wouldn’t you be happier if you had both?!? I thought back to my musician friend. I remembered that she only spent 6 weeks at home with her own baby boy before she returned to her full-time job. She and her husband both work hard so they can have the house and the cars, but she has missed out on 40 hours per week (at least) of her baby’s life. I truly don’t think I have taken for granted the opportunity to stay home with James, but allowing myself to head down the road of “what if” even for a few minutes shamed me. No, I wouldn’t be happier if I had both. Because, when it comes right down to it, I have never been happier in my life. Give me my VWH and my baby boy and my “Sexy Beast” old car and my drafty apartment. I will take it and run and wish that those with “so much more” only realized what they are missing.
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