The Hardest Job EVERRRRRR!

During my twenty year career in industry, I had some very demanding jobs. I was a warehouse manager, bottle line, keg line, can line, draught line, AND maintenance manager in a brewery setting. I was a maintenance manager in a distribution center. I was an inbound manager in a distribution center and a training manager in the same distribution center. Now some may read this and say, "Those aren't hard jobs!" And they would be right, in most circumstances. However, I don't think I ever had the ideal employment circumstances.

Let me start by saying I loved most of my jobs. I loved them because I loved the people who worked under me, and NOT the people I worked under. The majority of my bosses were under-qualified and over-confident in their abilities. I often found myself doing two jobs just to keep departments afloat.

Now I am disabled and no longer able to work outside of the home and I have found that the hardest job ever is motherhood! My son, Phoenix, is seven. He has non-verbal autism and requires lots of special care. Due to my disability, my husband can't work outside of the home because he has to be around to take care of both of us. Therefore, he has a home business, and I am going to start selling my art therapy to help with costs.

Having a child can be a job on it's own, but when that child is special needs, the items in the job description grow exponentially. Please do not misinterpret this! I love my son and would move Heaven and Earth for him. Also, I am not complaining about being a mother. I knew exactly where babies came from when I got pregnant at thirtysomething years old. What I am saying is, we as mothers, especially special-needs mothers, need to give ourselves some credit. Most of you know when your son has a stomach ache because he will come to you and say, "My tummy hurts." I don't have that luxury. I have to watch him to see if his demeanor changes. Although he has a speech device, he won't always use it. Sometimes it's frustrating. Sometimes I cry. It is extremely hard when my child needs or wants something and I can't figure out what it is. Then he gets frustrated and I get frustrated and nothing good comes from it.

Each night as I tuck him into bed. I kiss his little forehead and I tell him how thankful I am that he chose me to be his mommy. Then I lay next to him and start to sing a lullaby, and he gets mad yells at me and makes me hush. Every. Single. Night. Ahhhh motherhood!