The words from my daughter today, as I accepted a night shift from my nursing co-ordinator.
Mid last year I finally got my Nursing Qualifications. It took 40 years, 4 kids, many hours of study and a few false starts but finally, I had the beginnings of a career.
Since September ( when my registration was recognised) I have worked mornings, afternoons and night shifts. More and more I am becoming a night shifter.
The hours suit me - I can leave for work after my littlest goes to bed and I am home before she pours the milk on her Cornflakes.
I sleep when the kids are at school.
The challenge of night shift appeals to me, with a bigger patient load and less "on-the-ground" support. The learning curve is steep but the satisfaction of a well completed evening is enormous.
So what's with the guilt trip being laid on me? Miss 9 has happily accepted that Dad goes to work 5 days a week, for a few years Dad would leave on Sunday night and not re-appear until Friday night.
I am feeling torn. Again.
It's so hard to ignore the negative voices.
I know she is safe. Looked after and loved.
I know this is just because for so long I was here, always, and she is struggling with the new regime.
I know she will be fine if I go to work.
I know every hour or so, her words will jump back into my mind and I will wrestle the guilt back down into a manageable lump.
Counting the hours until I am home, and my small one feels all is okay once again.
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