tales from a workin' mama

So Christmas has come and gone and it was splendid, but this is not a Christmas blog post. That will comes soon (I hope.)
This post is a post I have had in my head for a while, and with the soon return to work for a dear friend of mine, I thought I would finally get it down "on paper." And if there are other working mamas out there who can relate, all the better. So here goes.

I have worn both the stay at home mom hat (with Ansley) and the working mom hat (with older Ansley and with Stephen) If you are looking for a good debate on which one is the best or most noble or right or whatever you want to call it, this is not it. There are hundreds, if not thousands of websites, blogs, birth boards, online communities where the topic of stay home vs. working moms is alive and well. Feel free to check those out if you like, but you might get more satisfaction from beating your head against the wall - just giving you a fair warning. It is a heated topic for many. And many times it ends with women attacking other women as if their very breath depended on the other person admitting they are WRONG. Think I am being dramatic? I am not. So no debate and here goes.

So you work. So you are a mom. Guess what? You. Can. Do. It. Whether you are single or have a partner, you can do it.
No, seriously. It can be done. Want proof? You are reading it. And there is no pass or fail. So get that out of your head. You are not going to be scored on a daily sheet with your results posted on facebook or twitter. You are not racing anyone. You are not competing against anyone. Including, read this carefully, including YOURSELF. Day by day, sometimes hour by hour. You just make it work. You might make it work because you have to financially. Or you make it work because (GASP) you actually enjoy your job. Whether you work for the money, the benefits, the stimulation, the chance to use your degree - if you are a working mama, know right now - you can be successful. We just must be very careful in the ruler we use to measure our success.

So here are some things to remember:
They are your kids. You can speak up to your childcare provider. You can ask questions. And guess what else, you have the ability and right to change things if they are not working. And what might be bothering you is not too little to speak up about. We do not watch Spongebob in this house. One of my kids was in a room at a child care center at one point where on more than one occasion they were shown Spongebob shows. I told the teacher I didnt like it. I told the director I didn't like it. In the spirit of trying to smooth things over, I even offered to bring in more appropriate movies. Some of the staff probably thought I was crazy. But I didn't want my child watching it. And so I spoke up. And this is not easy as a mother. You want the teachers to like you. You start thinking thoughts such as, "If they teachers think I am crazy, if they think I am telling on them to the director, will they treat my child differently??" All working moms have thought this. They have debated for hours over whether or not to mention the bottle issue, the feeding time issue, the I asked that he not be put on the floor issue. I would venture to say that the majority of child care workers I have encountered are very special and very loving people. And if something is causing an issue, it is almost always a miscommunication and not an act of willful disrespect of my parenting wishes. But to all the working mamas out there, don't be scared to speak up.
With Ansley we were in a little different place b/c I had a dear friend who kept her once I went back to work. But with Stephen, it took a while for us to get settled into the right place for him, which ended up being in a licensed home daycare run by a precious and wonderful lady. This is not to say day care centers are not good. In fact, it seems right now this new baby will be in a wonderful daycare center when I return to work in the fall. I don't feel a lot of guilt about decisions I have made with my kids, but one I do is leaving Stephen in a center for even a day after a feeling deep in the pit of my stomach that I needed to do something. He had been bitten numerous times and each time the director assured me the situation was being taken care of. One night at church my mom could tell that both Stephen and I were about to lose it. Very gently she whispered to me, "He can't speak for himself. You do it for him." I pulled him out the next day after a brief but serious meeting with the director (Jamey went along for this meeting) I still feel bad that I left him there for even another day. But I did, and although he of course has not lasting issues from it, I learned right then, I will speak up now and worry about offending others later when it comes to my child.

Dinner is not always homemade. It is also not always planned. If the kids are hungry, we feed them. And guess what? You don't have to turn in a menu to anyone, so if they eat french toast and orange slices two nights in a row, you are not going to be on the front page of the newspaper.
I try very hard to enjoy my kids. I do not try very hard to have the cleanest carpets or kitchen in the neighborhood. Who cares. Certainly not me. And if someone does, then they have more time on their hands than I do.
Hold them, read to them, bathe them, sing to them. Let them see you happy. Let them see you reading. Let them see you enjoy having a meal with them. This is not a suggestion that you hide all emotions from your kids and pretend that everything is roses and rainbows when lots of times, it is not. There is a time as they grow to let them see how you handle situations that cause sadness or worry. (That is another blog another time.)
But at the end of the work day, our kids, our babies, need to see that we are glad to see their faces, to hear what they have to say, to notice when something is not right with them. My mama radar rarely shuts off. I don't think I could shut it off if I tried. And I am ok with that.

A few final thoughts for working mamas of little people: Find someone who encourages you. Not the mom who has no roots showing, perfect makeup, an organically prepared dinner every night and who keeps complaining that she "can't stop losing weight." I am sure these people , whoever they are, are really lovely people. But an encourager to me, she is not. It is not easy. Sometimes I see a pile of laundry and I feel so discouraged about the size of it, I can't even begin to tackle the folding. Sometimes I do it anyway, and sometimes I just go to bed. Or watch How I Met your Mother on Netflix. I score no points for having it all done tonight. The Flylady aint coming in your window with any gold stars.

We do what we can where we are. And I love my children (all two and a half of them at this point). Don't beat yourself up. Don't be scared to change your mind. And don't feel you are alone.