Working Mom

I had a baby, a daughter, and I did everything I said I was going to do while on maternity leave.  Which was nothing.  I stayed in my pj’s for 8 weeks and I held that kid as much as I could.  At the end of 8 weeks I put on my tightest pair of maternity dress slacks and got my ass back into the office.  I haven’t looked back until recently.

Everyone asked me constantly how I was doing, if I was okay, if I missed her, that it would be over soon and I could get back home.  I just kept saying “It’s okay.”  Because guess what, it was.

My husband gets to stay home with her all day through the week, so sure, that probably made my transition easier.  She’s the easiest cutest kid I could have hoped for, so it’s not even like I want to get away from the screaming.   I get up every morning, get dressed, wear make-up, do my hair and kiss my kid between each of those activities.  I then get on that train and just relish in the silence.  I work all day, get back on the train, read, and when I get home she smiles her little head off at me and we spend the next few hours together.  I am the one that always puts her to bed.

Weekends are a different story.  Saturdays I completely soak her in, all day.  Sunday nights get hard because I can feel the pull of Monday morning.  By Tuesday though, I’m fine again.  Working mother, that be me.

But guess what?  Even on the weekends, I still love when she naps so I can drink a beer and get on the internet.

I’m just not sure when the full on guilt is supposed to kick in?  All that guilt I prepared myself to feel.  Sure, sometimes it rears its head.  My husband gave her a banana for the first time in her cereal.  I wasn’t there.  I don’t have enough vacation time for the rest of the year to go to her doctor’s appointments.  He made her laugh first.  He makes her laugh easiest.

Yet I know I’m her mother.  She will see me as strong and she will see me as a provider.  And she won’t see me ever give in to other’s ideas on what I’m supposed to feel or do.

So I’ll gladly miss a few doctor’s appointments.

But why is there such a rift between ladies out there on this topic.  Stay at home moms and working moms and blah blah blah.  I’m quite sure, after all this time, that we, ladies, create these rifts to feel better about the choices we have made.

I propose a new title for the different classes of moms: Mothers who fucking do everything they can to the best of their ability.

We all work, right?



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