I'm starting nursing school in a few weeks. As a mom to a soon-to-be-3-year-old boy with no other children (and none on the horizon), I want go back to work in a more full-time manner.

I would rather drink fox urine than go back into advertising/sales. My last memory of being rejected was at a Peruvian restaurant in the Valley. They gave me free food because they felt sorry for me. I ate the whole thing on the way home in the car, and my steering wheel smelled like garlic for weeks. It was a strong reminder that selling advertising is a lot like eating garlic. It can be enticing, but it makes you self-conscious about your breath.

Instead of being an insecure wreck who pretends to be confident, I choose to become a hypochondriacal (because I've always been one) work horse who smells like rubbing alcohol and/or blood. My father is a doctor, and he truly loves helping people. I'm hoping that will come later. I just like to make money and have people ask me questions like, "Why are you wearing SAS shoes?"

Still, I like people. I want to help them in any way I can as long as it doesn't involve selling them advertising. Have I always dreamed of being a nurse? Nope. I've always dreamed of being a writer—but I can still write as nurse. I cannot buy expensive jeans with what I currently make as a writer, but I still want to be available as a mother. I know you don't choose your shifts as a nurse, but I know many who work hours that allow them to spend time with their family. I know it's not perfect, and I know I'll be in school a long time, particularly if I want to be a nurse practitioner.  

I've realized something about myself by being a stay-at-home mother. It's hard work—maybe too hard some days. I love spending time with my son more than life, but putting in that many hours and not getting a paycheck is getting to me.

In the past few weeks, Joe and I have relied on my father to help us out via the phone with two medical issues. It saved me a trip to Little Company Urgent Care, and it saved Joe a trip to LIttle Company Emergency room. I want to be able to help out my family and others in the same way my father has been fortunate enough to do. I also want to be able to help my son with his homework, though not with calculus. I hated calculus.

Will life be perfect? Absolutely not. Will I be stress free? Never. Will I be happy? I will, no matter what. I want my son to have what I had as a child—a mother who was there for me. We'll see what I can do.

I am going to continue to write about being a mother in Redondo Beach, as well as being a student at a local community college. I'm worried that my studies will take time out of going to the park. I'm worried that Smith will feel like I'm leaving him with strangers more often. I'm worried about a lot of things, yet I can rest in the comfort that I will not be going back into sales, and that I will be entering a career that helps others.

Keep reading, Redondo Beach.