I'm writing two letters today. The first is my official resignation letter to the bank, and the second - well, the second is this one. To you.
I've put your letter off because I truly, sincerely didn't want to write it. At first, I couldn't, conventional wisdom being that you inform your employer before you inform the rest of the world (crazy, I know). Now that The Letter is out of the way, I can't put this one off any more, much as I want to.
So to answer your question, WilliamB: I didn't quit when Lucy was born because I didn't have to. I technically don't have to until the beginning of February, and we all know how fond I am of technicalities (::coughthreematernityleavesinfouryearscough::), but now that I know for sure that I'm not going back, I can't in all good conscience field any more "so when are you coming back?" questions with the oh-so-clever "my scheduled back to work date is February 27th" lie of omission.
Yes, I was sure I wasn't going back before I even got pregnant with Lucy...but then I wasn't either. It's a good job I'm leaving. A career job, in a field that I love, that pays well, so as easy as it is for me to walk away from it to stay at home with my babies and never send them to daycare again, it's hard at the same time. A job is a job, you know? Safety in employment something something something.
What truly decided the issue is a simple bit of money math (and we all know how much I love money math, right? If I go back to work full time, and we pay for full time daycare for Lucy and Oscar and after school care for Norah, I will be making minus two dollars a month. So basically I'll get paid two dollars a month to stay home with the kids.
Or let's put it this way: If we're going to be poor whether I work full time or stay at home, I'd rather be poor at home all stressed out with a dirty house than poor at work all stressed out with a dirty house (Mom: this is totally not true, I am very happy and my house is very clean).
Really, though? I'm Christmas-day-without-the-bloody-nose excited about this actually happening, while at the exact same time Eyeball-surgery-day-without-the-sedatives nervous and scared.
And then there's the small matter of the girdle.
The girdle, you see, was because I was applying for a starting your own small business program through the Ontario government and needed to make a good impression.
And we all know that nothing says "confident entrepreneur" like a girdle, right ladies?
I didn't get in. This is because I was technically still on maternity leave and therefore not technically eligible, what with the government already paying for me to have children and all (oh, the injustice of it all and woe and stuff), so I'm saying screw the government (except for the baby bonus and health care) and starting my own fee only financial planning company.
My butt cheeks haven't relaxed yet from just typing that.
(Um. I didn't type it with my butt cheeks. Just...uh, so we're clear. No butt typing has occurred here. Ever.)
So to sum up: I'm quitting my job, staying home full time with my three children, and starting a business so I can talk about other people's money. And - oh yeah - quitting The Mrs. I will truly, truly miss writing here. I will miss hearing that Leslie snorted her tea all over her computer screen, I will miss being a public weirdo, and I will miss you. All of you. Sincerely.
But something has to go, and it's this.
Love,
Sandi
(I just finished writing this and now I don't want to stop writing ever. Blergh.)
