I Am A Working Mom

Ok, this is not going to be a popular post.  I don't  like the idea of pitting granola mom against Gerber mom, or PBS mom with Nick Jr. mom, and all that crap.  Do your best, the kid is probably going to need therapy either way...no one is perfect, yadda, yadda, yadda.  I know quite a few SAHMs (Stay At Home Moms) considering I didn't know they really existed when I was young and it was just the TV moms that stayed at home.  Some moms don't WANT to be SAHMs, some moms can't for whatever reason, and a lot of my teacher friends do it one way during the year and do the SAHM thing during the summer.  I personally would love to be a SAHM, and really loved the time I was home with C for the first eight weeks, and on our recent "staycation" together.  Maybe it's because I didn't try to conquer the world while I did it or try to be a lady who lunched, but I enjoyed it.  It wasn't a walk in the park (wait, it actually literally WAS for an hour or so a day) and I was legitimately tired by the end of the day.  Loads of laundry I had my eye on never left the bedroom floor, recipes  laid unmade, a nap schedule never quite found its way into our home as I planned.
I will admit though, I do take offense to the following phrase, and phrases like it:

"All Moms are Working Moms"

I'm sorry (no I'm not) but there is a difference between being a mom who also has a job outside of the house and one that doesn't.  Some of the differences are to my benefit.  I can make my breaks line right up with the times that I have to use the bathroom - and therefore I use said bathroom without getting a gyno exam by a 10 month old who is hanging onto my panties for dear life while trying to get her sea legs.  I don't have to share 1/2 of my lunch by ripping it into un-chokable pieces.  There are semi-long periods of quiet and some of the demands on me are articulated in discernible English. But this is all while I do my job.  My job (as discussed with an over-intellectual friend who happens to agree with me) is something that has to be done, but other people don't want to do, so they give me money to do it.  Parenting is a decision I made, something I wanted - always wanted - and that I love.  A labor of love, but love - unpaid love - nonetheless.  Unemployed-Americans that have dogs, or a house, or other elective responsibilities would be regarded as asinine if they professed to actually have a job even if they didn't get paid.  Yes, there is value in walking a dog and in caring for, cleaning, and maintaining a house.  There is value in providing childcare too, but when you are at home with your own child it is just different.

When I leave for work in the morning I feel guilt that I am not taking care of my baby.  I have the best of all possible childcare and C barely notices that I leave, but I am keenly aware that Monday through Thursday, between 8a.m and 5p.m. I won't be pointing out the color of things on our walks or holding her hands and she does endless laps up and down the hallway.  Not surprisingly, if I leave that laundry, or those bills, or healthy ingredients home when I am away - they don't wash, bake, prepare, and pay themselves.  I don't always come home to a clean, well rested, nutritionally loaded child with whom I can just sit lovingly with and read educational materials until it's time for her to drift off into a peaceful sleep. (Ha ha, get it? - Sleeping like a baby?! Really? Lame phrase)  In the morning, things don't go according to her little internal clock.  I'm pretty sure if I stayed home I wouldn't have to compromise and let her use the toilet as her indoor water table so that I could straighten my hair and apply some blush, or at the very least brush my teeth (because that's a good example right? Double Whammy) within the allotted 2 hours we have together in the morning.
And another thing...Mr. is an amazing dad - truly amazing, but if anyone believes that if both parents work, then they are even-steven in the parenting - well, it's just not true.  As a general rule, mom is the project manager of baby land.  I keep track of what C has and has not eaten and has and has not reacted to.  I make appointments and notes on what to ask at the appointments.  I adjust the amount of formula and obviously the breastfeeding schedule.  I notice when we need different stimulation with different toys.  I decide on her swimwear and know if she's taken tylenol or put on sunscreen.  I don't know when my car's next oil change is...but I do know some very detailed information about what the last poopy diaper looked like.  Maybe it's a control thing to make up for not being with her all the time.  Maybe it's nature or maybe it's how I was raised -but I know as far as the moms I know go, this is the norm.
So, there you have it, as challenging as being a SAHM is, in my opinion it is not being a working mom.  Why not just be proud of what you are and not trying to make it into something else? Why isn't not having a job for the sake of being your child's exclusive caretaker acceptable? Why, just because we now supposedly have the "right" to do it all, do we beat ourselves up when we chose a few things to give our all to?
Ok, rant over.

Nothing to do with the post, but these kids are awesome!

On a lighter note, I'm now 33 (and 3 days).  So far it's just as awesome as 32 was and 31.  30's rock so much more than 20's.  I can only assume I'll glow in the dark or have some other awesome super power by my 40's!   

Working (Out) Mother's Guilt

Ok, so I'm now the working mother that doesn't see her baby 8 hours out of 4 days every week - like the normal kind of working mother (but still a little privileged in my opinion).  And I have to say - I've adjusted almost too well.  As Mr. P said,  I was working 80 hours in 40 hours time and it was wearing me (and in return him) ragged.  I was a mess and full of tension all the time. Yes, I was incredibly lucky to have the opportunity and I will always treasure it.  And yes, I loved seeing her face all the time - but DAYAM it was hard. I ALMOST feel guilty feeling so relaxed, except I know she is getting the utmost spoiling and naps in her own bed and she doesn't bat a long, beautiful eyelash (they used to be mine - she stole them when I was pregnant and they never grew back on me) when I leave.
So I can feel as guilty as I want, but I don't really have a choice...at this point, without some major lifestyle changes, we wouldn't be able to do it any other way.  However, here is where a real balancing act comes in...
The time that I am not at work...I want to be with her every second.  I have already decided to forego my desire to play with her until I'M tired so that she could have a nice early bedtime. I try to get as ready in the evening and wee hours of the morning so that I can sit and enjoy her before I head off to work.

First pic texted from the sitter

Sooo....I've recently signed back up for my secret healthy indulgence...Jazzercise.  I know I will not be back at 6 days a week anytime in the near decades...but even just going back for a couple of sessions of shaking my completely reshaped-by-baby-growing ass a week is worth it to me.  I get a workout that clears my mind, works my heart, builds some bone density, strengthens my muscles, and gets some silly suburban lady chat in before and after.  Going on the weekends is a no-brainer as the grandmas are chomping at the bit to spend an hour or so changing poopy diapers and wiping up drool for the chance at an eight second smile or the hint of a giggle.  But I would like to go one day during the week to make 3 workouts a week...and it's so hard to decide to do it.  The self-help book reading, Womyn's Studies major in me tells me that I need to put on my own oxygen mask first...to take care of myself so that I can best take care of my family.  The guilty working mother tells me to get my ass home as fast I can before my daughter forgets who I am, feels completely abandoned and finds her way 3 blocks down at the strip club bearing her low self-esteem for any man who chooses to bring her dollar bills instead of going to Jazzercise.   June Cleaver would say I was selfish...so I stay up late peeling the smallest EVER organic apples to make her fresh food as penance.  Oh god, am I going to teach my baby to eat her emotions?! Mr. P wants the time alone with her - and that's good for her.  So ultimately, as it stands the Pros outweigh the Cons.   I'll be shaking my money maker and hoping that this is the good example that I hope it is - and that ultimately I will be a better mom as a healthy mom.  SHIT, why didn't someone mention that getting up at night would by far be the LEAST of my worries....