I work from home on Thursdays, so I can take Jared to school and pick him up when it's over. Last Thursday, a couple of the moms waiting to pick up their kids told me that a few families were going camping and asked if we wanted to go. Naturally, I said yes, but that I had to check the family calendar and with Rachel. We had no plans and Rachel okayed it, so I sent off an e-mail saying we could go.

Unfortunately, what I didn't realize was that I was supposed to get my own campsite reservation; I thought that the mom who had come up with the idea had gotten reservations for everyone. By the time I realized my mistake, the campground was completely booked up. Of course, I had already told the kids we were going camping. If I were a stay-at-home-dad, I would have been hanging around the school with the other stay-at-home-parents and would have been more in the loop. Instead, even on the days when I do pick Jared up, it's a case of show up, say hi, and rush back home to work.

There is a happy ending; vigilant, constant checking of the website turned up an opening -- someone must have cancelled a reservation -- so we were going after all. Still, this isn't the only issue with having to work. Most of the other kids get to run around on the lawn outside the school building after school, while their parents hang out and chat. Poor Jared has to go straight home. The other parents often arrange to take their kids to the playground after school, or on Mondays when there is no school; that's just not possible for us.

Sure, we have the weekends with the kids, but those quickly fill up with household chores, shopping, and acrobatics and swimming lessons. By the time I get home from work during the week, it's often too late, too dark, and too cold to go to the park or ride bikes or anything like that. I feel like not only am I missing out on their childhood, they're growing up without me.

Now, mind you, I am lucky in that I work for a company that does believe in a real forty hour work week -- I have worked for companies where they publicly proclaim that no one should be working more than forty hours a week, even as I got reprimanded for only working 50-60. My company also has a policy of letting employees work from home one day a week, a definite perk, and something a lot of companies would not allow. Still, it doesn't change the fact that I'd rather be spending my days with the kids.

Personally, I have a lot of inner turmoil surrounding the concept of wealth. I would love to have a few million in the bank so I could live off the interest and not have to work, but at the same time, I know that I have it much better than most people; Even in this country, many people work much longer hours at far more strenuous jobs. Elsewhere in the world, there are people who work significantly harder and longer than I do and still have nowhere near as comfortable a life as I do. So who am I to think I should be able to laze about and no have to work? Even if someone gave me the one true lottery ticket, what right do I have to such wealth when other people are going to bed hungry?

Those are questions I have to answer myself, of course, and, for the most part, are purely hypothetical -- I'm told you have to actually buy a lottery ticket in order to win the money. It doesn't, however, change the fact that I really hate having to go spend 8+ hours a day doing what someone else wants me to do instead of hanging out with my kids, taking them to the park, playing games with them, cooking them healthy, fresh meals, and so on.

Being a working parent sucks.