I was up until 3am this morning having what I think is termed a life changing conversation with my husband. No, we are not divorcing, but he is walking out on his job of the last six years and that seems to be almost as traumatic. To cut a long story short he's fed up to the back teeth of his daily grind, I am finding it hard to work with four kids, so we've decided to combine forces and try to find a way to create that elusive life work balance.
I am in equal parts terrified and elated. We are both poorly fitted to 9-5 jobs, being far too interested in spending time with our children rather than locked on the tube or in a traffic jam. Sadly no one was cut out to be the breadwinner, but that essential bread still needs to be won. The idea is that by splitting our time between family and work we can do both more justice, and if that pans out I will be the happiest girl in town, of course the 3am chat was more about what happens if Plan A goes tits up and we end up trying out cardboard boxes for six.
Trouble is that sometimes in life you have to take a risk to have a hope of getting what you want in life, yet I hate any hint of change, even if ultimately it might be for the better. I am a yellow-bellied coward and my glass is forever half empty, yet I don't want to constantly pour the cold water from said glass all over my husband's plans and enthusiasm as he will need all of his get up and go to kick start a brand new career.
I guess I will just have to put my strong and supportive head on and hope like hell that it all works out and I will look back on this particular life choice as one of the few that made sense. Wish me luck, I fear I may need it.