I was raised an only child. I don’t work well in groups. When something needs to be done, I do it. Alone.

I have a system for almost everything. Cleaning, taking care of the baby, cooking. You name it. Every single activity I do, is set up for me. I approach cleaning the house as a one person job. Taking care of the baby as a one person job. Cooking…well…stay out of my kitchen.

You may wonder how I can have a successful marriage with this very individual frame of mind. My husband is also an only child. We are fine sitting in different rooms doing our own things. We love being together, but we can also function separately.

Recently, I quit my job. With very mixed feelings of happiness and sadness, I knew it was what I wanted to do. But I didn’t know that doing what I ultimately wanted could make me such an emotional wreck. I’m happy that I can be home with Isaiah. I’m relieved that we don’t have to find and pay for childcare. I’m excited to teach him things and be present for his firsts. The sadness comes from ending a very important part of my life because I feel like my job is the last part of “pre-Isaiah” me that was left. I’ve had a job for 13 years, with the exception of a 3 week stint of unemployment directly before I started this last position. I used to love leaving jobs and starting new ones, but I never left a job that I loved. With my last job, I didn’t love my actual job, but I loved my coworkers and I’ve never had that in a job before.


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Now, I’m always working. When I can’t finish the dishes or the laundry, I feel like I’ve failed because I’m home all the time. That is my job now. But my last job; I was good at it. It wasn’t hard, but I really excelled at what I did. Now, everything is new. I’m still learning to be a mom. I’m trying to balance being a mom with keeping our house in order, and it’s hard.

To make a long story even longer, I need to give you some details from the past week or so. First, my mother-in-law got married. Not only did she get married, she pulled off a very nice backyard wedding on fairly short notice, which required the help of all family members. This required my husband to be at her house most of the week working on things there. Second, my husband is a big comic fan. There was a local comic-con he went to and stayed most of the day because he knew people involved. The next day was a dog show out of town. We have lots of dogs that compete in these shows. While he’s been doing all of these things, I’ve been staying home with the baby. I’ve been trying to put on my brave I-can-do-it-all face. So when he left town for the dog show, I was left at home with Isaiah to clean the house and get ready for the 15ish people we were having over for dinner that night.

I promptly had a meltdown. A crying and yelling on the phone, once or twice in a lifetime, meltdown.

A few hours later, when Isaiah and I were watching TV feeling sorry for ourselves, there was a knock at the door. Mr. Polish’s two aunts and his cousin came in and asked what I wanted them to do. This question has no answer when it is asked of a person who does everything for herself. I never think in the frame of mind that the cleaning would be so much easier if I could split it with someone. So they narrowed it down for me. One person took Isaiah, one person took the bathroom, the other took the living room and I did laundry. They saved me hours of cleaning.

For the first time in my life, I realized that maybe this independent attitude isn’t always the best thing for me. I need to know how to ask for help, and when to accept it. It’s nice when it’s forced on me, but I can’t count on that to happen.

How do you find that balance? More importantly: How do you keep the house, cook, and care for the baby? I need tips.