So by now you know I have a daughter. But, here’s something I haven’t discussed here at One Shoe Off. I work, too. A so-called ‘real’ job (AS IF parenting somehow isn’t real work, but that’s another soapbox for another day). I work hard. But I work for an insanely wonderful, flexible company which shall, of course, remain nameless that is perfectly fine with me working from home. While I simultaneously parent my daughter. Can I just say how frickin’ awesome that is, and how unbelievably blessed I am to be able to do this and how unbelievably hard this whole thing is?
I have a tremendously supportive husband actively earning points toward sainthood who more than pulls his weight at home and at work so that we can make this happen. I put in a lot of hours while she sleeps. I put in some hours while she’s awake. And I struggle. I don’t struggle to keep my head above water as I’ve somehow mastered the delicate art of meeting deadlines while simultaneously singing the ABCs for the umpteenth time (thank you to many friends who have also chipped in when time was of the essence). Mainly, I struggle with the guilt of sometimes not being entirely present with my kidlet.
Some days are pretty relaxed, others cause me great stress and uncontrollable twitching. These past few days have been hard. The phone has been ringing incessantly, and the e-mails pour in at an alarming rate. Which means that some days my daughter has to spend more time playing by herself than I would like. Plenty of folks would argue that it’s good for her to learn to play on her own, and I would whole-heartedly agree. But when I’m in the throes of answering yet another phone call, while the other line is ringing, and my sweet girl is tugging on my pants asking me to read to her, I find myself feeling very sad indeed.
I enjoy my job immensely, and I have and always will care deeply about my own career and what I’ll be doing when my rapidly-growing girl starts school. This is part of why I chose to take on this insane juggling act in the first place. I also know that if I didn’t have this job and the mental overstimulation it provides, I would probably be even sadder still, and possibly a little bored. It’s not that I find childcare boring (although let’s all just admit it has its tedious moments), it’s simply that I’ve always been one to take on lots and lots and lots and lots of challenges and opportunities and find a way to tackle them all, sometimes quite unsuccessfully. This whole bizarre situation is a choice, I guess, about providing both my family and myself with things that we feel are important. I want my daughter to remember days at home with me the way I remember days at home with my own lovely mama. I also want very much to help provide my family with financial support because I’m capable and willing. I want also to keep myself sharp and current in my own career and to have opportunities to make important contributions outside of my home.
Some would argue that society is to blame for the stresses and pressures that many (all?) modern moms find themselves under. Sure, social mores have something to do with how I feel. If I don’t pursue my career, I’m not a good feminist who is using my education and skills to the best of my ability. If I don’t stay home with my kid, I’m somehow not doing right by my kid. You’re damned if you do, damned if you don’t. And yet, even despite society’s pressures, it’s my own ambitions, loves, prides, and insecurities that hold me perpetually out of balance.
I don’t for a moment regret the decisions we’ve made about this, and I know I’m not the first mom, nor will I be the last, to struggle constantly with pursuing that elusive thing we call “work-life balance.” I also don’t claim to have any answers here because my ducks aren’t lined up neatly in a row but rather scattered all to hell. But, hey, maybe my struggle can offer comfort to some other struggling mama out there. Or maybe we can all just commiserate together on how hard it can be to work, or how hard it can be to stay at home, or how hard it can be to do whatever it is each of us is doing out of the best interest of our families and our own mental health. Because that’s got to be better than the endless judgment that moms can dish out over other moms’ choices, right?
I’m interested to hear what your situation looks like. How do you find balance? Where do your struggles and guilt lie?
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