“Daaaaaaaaaddyyyyyyyyy!!” I hear Middle yelling from her room down the hall at 6:30am.
I roll out of my bed and trudge down the short distance to the room she shares with Big, who excitedly sits up in her top bunk when she hears the doorknob turn.
“No, babe. Daddy’s working overtime… again.”
The horror. The sadness. The loneliness. Big and Middle just don’t *get* why Daddy is working overtime… again.
Since the minute we found out we were expecting Big, The Hubby has worked overtime. We became a single-income family when I was about halfway through that pregnancy, and he has felt the weight of our lifestyle on his shoulders ever since. I’m so proud of him for stepping up, even before we had ever heard the name Dave Ramsey, to provide for his family.
The man is tired.
In a typical month, the Hubby works his normal 40 hour work week every week PLUS, on average, 50 hours of overtime (some months it’s been as many at 80 hours!). And every hour of overtime he’s at work means *I* am also “working overtime”.
Mama is tired too.
But today marks a very important milestone. Today is the last shift of overtime the Hubby will have to work to pay off our creditors.
Did you hear me?
The LAST shift of overtime!
Sure, there will be a few shifts here and there to help fund our kids ESA accounts. Or to help us save for our
new TV, Hawaiian vacation, new deck, future goals. But creditors? Never again. We will not be held slave to them ever again!
My kids ask me daily, “Mommy, is Daddy working overtime?”
I know, in time, they will stop asking because the answer will usually be “no”.