My Value Is Not Based On the Number of Hours I Work Each Week

I sometimes wonder when I came to believe that my value as a person rose and fell with the number of hours I worked each week. As I sit here tonight, at 12:24 a.m., writing this blog, I have just finished working for the day. Today's work schedule consisted of approximately 16 hours, minus commuting time. This is the third night I have worked at home this week, although this one is the latest by a couple of hours, making the grand total number of hours that I have put in this week in four days at 58.

Some might say that the financial compensation is what does it for me. Well, no. That's not it exactly as I'm not an hourly employee. Others might wonder if it's the glory in the accomplishment that drives me to do it. Yeah, that's not it either. As a paralegal, I'm very much behind the scenes in my job. No glory here, sorry. Fame? Nope. Not a center stage kind of girl and definitely not the area to seek fame regardless.

On one hand, I do feel better and more in control of life when I have my desk and my work responsibilities firmly in hand. It's calming to me to know exactly what I have to do and when I have to do it by. No surprises. No wild excitement. No last minute hoopla. However, anyone that has dabbled in law, family law in particular, knows that despite what may appear to be a fact based, clear, formula driven kind of field, it's extremely emotional. The range from anger, bitterness, fear, resentment, and sadness that accompany these types of issues, combined with the greed and tight fistedness, can really make for a day full of highs and lows. Having made my way in the minefield that is family law over the course of the past eight years, I have become numb to emotions my clients exhibit. As an emotion-based individual myself, the numbness is the protective layer that gets me through the day. The numbness, though, does not stop me from seeing or being privy to the aforementioned emotions of my clients.

On the other hand, it does make me feel better and more accomplished to have succeeded in meeting my deadlines and goals, whether self imposed or set by statute or boss. I enjoy the 'pats on the back' that I occasionally get for a job well done. The occasional bonuses to thank me for my hard work. The comments containing praise for foregoing sleep to keep a client happy or to get a seemingly impossible deadline met.

So tonight, in order to keep everything right in part of my little world, I arrived home, briefly greeted my children, ordered pizza to be delivered, and parked them in front of the television with a movie and threats of early bedtimes with any instances of bad behavior or arguing. I believe that there may have even been a threat or two regarding bodily harm or limb removal if hands weren't kept to themselves. I completely avoided mothering for the most part, until the movie was done, when I paused from my work, looked up from my computer, and tossed my children into their respective beds with a quick kiss, hug and 'I love you', placing more value on the work to be completed than the young lives I'm raising. I wonder though if this is the example I want to set for my children.

I think back to when I was little, probably around 5 or 6. My father was the Bishop of our church, and was also in business for himself, running a Sears catalog store. He was gone in the morning long before I woke up for the day, and often came home after we were in bed. A lot of the memories that I have of spending time with my father were those of sneaking downstairs when I heard him come in, and sitting on his lap for a few minutes while he ate warmed up dinner. While trying to provide for his family in the way that he deemed suitable, he removed himself from participating in his family in any way except peripherally. I don't want this for my children.

I think that, as a single parent, it's very difficult to reach the point where you're able to keep all of the balls in the air. I probably manage to keep at least three out of four in the air for the most part, only occasionally dropping those that I can afford to drop. If the balls were apples though, they'd probably be pretty severely bruised. It's hard for me to be the kind of person that leans on others, although I have no problem allowing others to lean on me, thus adding balls to the mix that I can ill afford. In the couple of years since my divorce, I have tried hard to become independent. Perhaps in a misguided belief that dependence on someone only leads to hurt and disappointment down the road. But tonight, independence is exhausting.

And so the struggle for balance continues. One day I hope it is something I manage to find. But tonight, at 1:09 a.m., as I get up to do just one more load of laundry before laying down to read until my eyes burn with fatigue, I wonder; have I earned my keep today?