Re: Work

Like a child on her first day of school, I set out this morning for a new adventure. J-man is
almost two and a half, and so for the last three years my life has almost exclusively been about him. But not today. Today I start a new job. A new career, really. One that will require complete dedication. One where I compete with twenty-somethings willing to work twenty-four hours a day. A job where being a mom is a liability. Today I tip-toed around the house and was out the door before J-man awoke.

Last year I couldn’t do this. J-man was still waking multiple times per night, staying up well past 10pm, and my only real sleep was in the period of the morning that I used today to shower, dress, and have a quick bite. I spent almost two years walking around like a total zombie. Today I feel ready. J-man is almost a real little boy and he doesn’t really need his mommy to get him ready for pre-school. His dad is more than capable of taking care of that.

The real problem is that I am not totally certain that I am ready to let go. Okay, that’s a lie; I
know that I am not ready to let go. I am distraught about not being there when he wakes up.
Beside myself, really. I am afraid of how much I will miss, the important time, and I resent that
the only way I can improve professionally is to take time away from my family. He has grown up so fast, and not seeing him in the mornings, not taking him to daycare… well, it plain ol’ breaks my heart!

When I think about it rationally, I actually think it will be good for the relationship between J-man and his dad. He is a wonderfully loving father, but my overbearing mothering style allows him to be a bit stand-offish. I am clearly the primary parent. Not by necessity but by design. This does not mirror the family that I grew up in nor is it the stereotype that I want J-man to internalize. It is also probably a bit selfish as frankly I don’t leave them as much space as I probably should.

In any event, mother guilt and my broken heart aside, today I discover what it will really take
to balance a true career with being the mom that I want to be. Today I start to depend on my
spouse, my parents, and our friends. Today the saying “it takes a village to raise a child” will be put into practice. Today I learn to cope with sharing my time, my life, my son. Wish me luck — it is a new adventure.

-Sleepwalking Mama

[image: vintage scale via Pinterest]

Invisible Momma

When I went back to work, I was struggling through a number of things I was
attempting to manage but being invisible was not one I expected. I had been
away from work for a little over a year. Once I stepped into my new office I
was quickly back into the swing of the job once again. The meetings started up
again, the consultations continued and the tired jaw from talking all day kicked
into gear. The one thing that had changed was how people treated me.

Before my maternity leave I was the go to person, I was the one that helped to
solve difficult problems, that was chosen to represent the agency at numerous
events, facilitate training and co-ordinate events. Now I am not even asked,
when I speak in meetings I get glossy eyes, people question my decision making
as I work with children and people question my abilities now that I have my own
child.

This was definitely not something anything shared with me before returning to
work.

I have been back at work for over a year now, and this experience has not
changed. I am still trying to find my place in the work world while trying to figure
out how to be a working mom. If the later is not hard enough.

-Gray Mama

[image: retronaut]

Guilt

I am a half-Irish (lapsed) Catholic who also happens to be an only child. So to
say that I have a lot of experience with guilt would be an understatement.

Without a doubt, some of the worst guilt of my day strikes me during the period
of 9 to 5, Monday to Friday. I know all moms work, but I happen to have a
traditional 9-to-5, out-of-the-house, coffee-breaks-at-10-and-2 kind of job. Which
means I wake up at approximately 6:20 every day. I am out of the house by 7:35
(7:45 means NO daycare parking to be had) and at my desk by 8:30. I leave my
desk by 4:30 and am on Lakeshore Boulevard by 4:45 (4:55 means an extra 20
minutes in gridlock), and at the daycare by 5:20, and home by 5:40. We eat as
a family, most days — yes, I will accept a pat on the back for that — and then
bed and bath are completed by 7:00. Phew. It is a tight schedule, but it works.
If “works” means we all survive and sometimes manage to enjoy ourselves. (Side
note: The slow cooker has saved my life.)

So, guilt. Today as I walked to the photocopy room, I suddenly wished W was
there. I wished we were holding hands. I wished I could see him, just for a
second. It wasn’t a fleeting moment; it was a real, palpable wish.

Across from my office there is a grocery store where I buy something — lunch,
milk, lottery tickets — three days out of five. While I am in the store I spend most
of my time talking to babies. For real. There are so many moms in the grocery
store in the middle of the day, it is unreal. Most of the babies are little and in their
car seats (wistful sigh for the days when I could grocery shop with W strapped
into a seat), and I am okay with those babies. I recognize that the mommies
are on mat leave. But sometimes the babies (okay, they are children) look like
W. They are his age. They are precious and precocious and running down the
aisles. They are adorable and funny and I almost burst into tears some days
wishing W was there. Wishing that I could be in the store at 11:00 a.m. on a
Wednesday with my sweet, precocious boy.

Then I realize I am staring and I move along to the pre-packaged salads.

As you have read, W loves daycare. He is happy and fine, but am I? Am I okay
with things? Should I feel guilty for even thinking about MY happiness? Probably.
I miss my little guy so much sometimes at work that my heart aches. Sometimes
I secretly wish that my husband and son would just magically appear at my desk
after a meeting. Is this normal? I don’t know anymore.

I have a co-worker, whom I love, who has two boys. She says the silver lining of
work is eating lunch and peeing whenever you want. She is right. But it is sad.
That is our silver lining, which is…I don’t know what it is. On weekends, I eat
whenever I can, and W comes to pee with me, and I am actually pretty okay with
it.

I don’t know what the future holds jobwise, but as the words “Toddler Room”
and “Preschool” start getting tossed around, I realize I am making spreadsheets
and PowerPoints instead of Play-Doh figures and bubbles in swim class.
And today it is weighing on me. Maybe it won’t next week, but today I would
have traded it all for W to magically appear beside the photocopier, but even
during the WORST barf-fuelled, hellish moments I have NEVER wished for the
photocopier to magically appear.

-Tightrope Mama

[image source: University of the Arts London]