The last time I wrote a resume, people were still stuffing their basements with apocalypse supplies in preparation for the anticipated Y2K disaster. That resume landed me a great job with a great company where I worked for many years. I made friends, travelled, earned promotions and made lots of money. The stuff career dreams are made of.

Then I had babies.

I tried, after the first baby, to maintain my prenatal workload despite the introduction of nursing bras and zero sleep. Even after the second baby I kept going, maintaining some sense of balance by  reducing my work hours. By the third pregnancy (yes, we know what causes it, and yes, it was planned), my career had completely taken a back seat to my family. I opted out of the workforce. I was tired of being jealous of the nanny, tired of feeling like I was doing a crappy job at work, and tired of feeling like I was doing an even crappier job at home. I was just tired.

I’ve now been a stay-at-home parent for six years. It’s been a lovely six years and I actually (honestly) have no regrets. I’ve been a better parent and a better – I’ll say it – person since I’ve been at home with my kids. We’ve had one more kid since then (yep, that one was planned too) and added a dog. My staying home to take care of our family full-time was the right decision, without question.

Then came this, a game changer: My youngest child started preschool. For the first time in the six years that I have been a stay-at-home parent, I don’t have a child to stay at home with.

For those of you who don’t have kids, let me make one thing perfectly clear. “What are you going to do all day?” isn’t the right question. My family eats at home – I cook. One income doesn’t afford us a maid – I clean. Six people dirty a lot of clothes – I launder (oh, so much laundry). Schools need tons of support – I volunteer. I grocery shop, fix broken things, help with homework. My day isn’t lacking for “things” to do.

The right question is, “What do you want to do all day?” For six years, I’ve devoted myself solely to parent-y, household-y activities. While I know that none of those things are going to disappear now that all my children are in school, I don’t want them to command my focus. Yes, without children at home it might, just might, be possible for me to be caught up with laundry, at least most of the time. Hell, I bet I could even learn to master the most dreaded of household chores: fitted-sheet-folding. But I don’t want to. (Irresistible aside: does it really matter if your sheets are rolled in a ball? have you ever had someone come over and look in your linen closet and remark on the mess that’s there? have you ever had someone come over and look in your linen closet?). I’m not saying that running a household isn’t important, just that I don’t want it to be all that important to me.

The beauty of my situation is that my family isn’t dependent upon my income generation (although more money would be really, really nice to have). Without dollars clogging up the equation, I feel no pressure to walk a path that isn’t ideal. For now, I get to ask the question “What do I want to do now?” and enjoy the pursuit of uncovering the answer.