The Poor Mom Revolution

More often than I care to admit, I look back on the different parts of my life and I tend to overanalyze decisions I’ve made. Sometimes it is beneficial and I look at different ways I could have handled the situation as a learning process for the future, and other times it’s more of a negative and I second-guess things I have no control over. The majority of the big life decisions that changed the trajectory of where my life was going, are still terrifying to think about. All these little changes that wound up making huge impacts on my life…changed who I fundamentally was.

When I first became a mom, I didn’t know who I was. I was insecure, uncomfortable in my own skin, unsure of my abilities in every aspect of the phrase, and constantly second guessing my choices. I was working my butt off to stay home for the first year, finish my master’s degree, work part-time from home for some extra cash, and was barely surviving. I tried so hard to be social and make ‘mom’ friends, but I didn’t have it in me.

Losing my job 2 days before my baby was born, pushed me more than I thought possible. It also started a chain of reactions that brought me to where I am now. I remember being in my hospital bed, holding my newborn and thinking about how this could have happened. How doing all the things right still wasn’t enough and how could I have a baby and no job for the upcoming school year. I remember allowing myself to wallow for an hour or so, before getting on indeed and searching everything and anything while holding this beautiful little girl in my arms. I was her mom… strong and capable! I’d figure it out.

From May to July, I applied for anything and everything that looked interesting. I was over the “only applying for things I was qualified for” and chose ones I knew I could do or that were up my alley. Nothing was off limits. I did a ton of interviews that summer. At the time Early/ Elementary Education was my calling and I swore to myself that I would never go above second grade. I mean if I’m being honest, big kids are intimidating, or at least that’s the narrative I told myself. That summer with desperation speaking, I took a position as a fourth grade teacher at a religious private school. From losing my job, to taking on a new one that I never saw myself doing.. my life took a new course and there was no going back.

As much as I loved those kids, the school wasn’t a place for me long-term. This particular school taught me a few things and some big life takeaways. Not only were 4th graders, not as scary as they seemed and pretty amazing, I learned to advocate for myself as a teacher and as a human being. I was at a school that valued textbooks and thought other versions of teaching were wasteful. I created more hands-on science projects than that school had ever seen. The kids absolutely loved learning about electricity, the water cycle, and everything about rocks and sediment you could imagine. They were sorting, playing, and creating. Let’s just say that when I set my mind to something, I succeed more often than not. The parents and kids learned a lot that year, but realized I didn’t fit into the small box the principal wanted me to. Ultimately, by the end of the school year my mental health took a toll. I was constantly trying to work with an authoritarian style of leading, staying true to my teaching beliefs, while constantly getting pushback. I began losing a little bit of myself, everyday I went to work. For the first time in my entire life, I quit a job without having another one.

Once again, I spent the next month determined to get the job of my dreams. I went on countless interviews and sent out over 40 applications to school and districts within an hour radius. The only goal in mind was to work that September, and found an inner city charter school in Camden that would allow me to use my special education degree. As hard as that school year was, I still think it was one of the most important jobs of my career. I met some of the most amazing people there that were kind, supportive and genuinely have a passion for teaching. Getting through to those kids, allowing them to feel safe and heard, while laughing the day away was a blessing in disguise. As hard and long as those days were, it taught me so much about persevering, classroom management, and finding my voice in the classroom.

Every time I changed grades, classrooms and schools, I was trying to find a place that could be considered home long term. I wanted to find a place where I could be myself, were surrounded by positive people, and where I felt supported. I wanted to be able to ask for help when I needed it, without fear of embarrassment and lack of guidance. I realized it was not going to be found in a school environment. Deciding to walk away from a job that was meant to be a lifelong career felt a little bit like giving up a piece of me. In a sense it was. Walking away from teaching was the end of ‘people pleasing’ me. It was the end of settling for less than I deserve. It was the end of just getting through the day and pretending to be happy. It was a shedding of the old Jamie, allowing a stronger version to step up and take over.

When my kids were born, I wanted to do things differently for them. I didn’t want to be the self-conscious, anxiety ridden, second guessing, money stressed mom. I started that way and hated myself for it. I wanted things to be different for them and pushed myself to the limit! I want them to know I didn’t settle and worked hard hard to give them all I could.

The average American lifespan is 80 years, which puts me pretty darn close to my half way point. I’ve been reflecting a lot recently about what the kids will remember and what I’ll be passing on and/or leaving behind. It really is a scary concept. Am I leaving an impact? What is it that I want out of this life? Is there an end goal?

I had seen this prompt for ChatGPT that I had to try. “Tell me a story of the day in the life as my future self with this description”…. And I left a detailed dream. Here’s what mine said…

You wake up early on your dream property, the soft light of dawn streaming through your window. The peaceful sounds of nature greet you—a gentle breeze through the trees, birds chirping, and the distant rustle of leaves in the family garden. You take a moment to reflect, feeling grateful for the life you’ve created.

The morning begins with a visit to your barndominium community space, where you host a sunrise yoga session for your family and neighbors. As a certified personal trainer, you guide everyone through stretches, helping your loved ones start their day with positive energy. Afterwards, you prepare a nutritious breakfast using fresh vegetables from your garden, sharing a communal meal with your family in the open dining area.

The rest of the day is a blend of productivity and joy. You meet with a local event planner to finalize details for an upcoming family reunion on your property. The space you’ve built—complete with a fire pit, a long dinner table under twinkling string lights, and plenty of room to dance—has become the heart of your family gatherings.

In the afternoon, you take some time for yourself, diving into plans for your next family road trip across America. You’re mapping out scenic routes, national parks, and quirky roadside attractions that you know your kids and future grandkids will love. Travel has become a cherished part of your life, filled with shared experiences and memories.

As evening falls, you light a fire in the outdoor fire pit, and your family gathers around. Laughter fills the air as you swap stories and roast marshmallows. You take a moment to look around at the smiling faces of your kids, siblings, and friends, all at ease in the sanctuary you’ve created.

Before heading to bed, you take a quiet walk around the property, marveling at how much you’ve accomplished. The land you’ve nurtured has become more than just a home—it’s a legacy of love, health, and connection. And tomorrow? Another day filled with purpose and adventure.

Well damn ChatGPT, way to help me manifest my dream life. This is the type of legacy I’d want to leave my kids with. To always follow their dreams and passions, while finding the right people who support them. Never feeling as though something is too small or insignificant to bring joy to their lives. Just hoping I’ll be there for so many of these moments as I continue to be one of their biggest cheerleaders. If you haven’t done so already try the prompt to see what your dream life would look like if you went all in!