Confessions of a working mom

My new job is insane. It's insane partially because I think that's just how it's going to be, and partially because I am trying to learn it while simultaneously doing my old job (because there's no one else to do it). I had seven meetings today, and there were two times where two meetings overlapped. It's that kind of crazy. I left work late and Hannah was the last kid left at daycare, which doesn't happen often but still makes me feel like a horrible mother when it does. It's been bugging me all evening.

It occurs to me that because I had a child while still on the upward climb of my career, I have set myself up for many years of internal conflict and guilt over pursuing career advancement. I thought I'd already understood it, but with this job I think I've hit the point where it's really going to be something that weighs on me. While my family will always be the most important thing in the world to me, my career is still important, too. I hope that in the long run this will be a really good example for my daughter - that you can do all the things you want to do, and have success in your own right while also being a good wife and mother. But I think the key is marrying well; that is, marrying someone who supports that, and plays an active role in the daily running of the family. I'm lucky my husband supports my ambition, and that he is an active dad who would never, ever refer to spending time with Hannah as "babysitting." But I still have guilt.

The other day, I was talking to one of my friends, who's expecting a baby. I said to her that I felt like the decision to be a working mom is a catch-22: if you stay home, people may undervalue you because you're not "working" and you may feel like you should be doing more (which is a crock); if you work, some will judge your career dedication negatively, and you'll feel guilty for not staying home (also a crock). None of this is fair, but as my mom always said, "Who ever promised fair?" The answer, now as it was when I wanted a Whistle Pop at the grocery store, is "nobody."

I know that I would not be a very good stay-at-home mom. I mean, I'd be okay at it, but I don't think my daughter would be as well-rounded if she were stuck with me all the time. In fact, judging by the few times we've been on our own for a few days when her dad was traveling, I'd say we'd get pretty sick of each other. I've said a million times that she wouldn't know how to do half the stuff she knows how to do, because it wouldn't occur to me to teach her. We're always so impressed when she starts doing something new - and one of us usually says, "Did you know she could do that?" And then we start working with her at home, too...but it takes a little kick in the pants to get us started. I also know I wouldn't be one of those moms who's really good about arranging activities and crafts and things, and I don't think I'd like "mommy & me" classes very much.

At the same time, I wonder about being a working mom and if my drive for success is going to affect Hannah. She's already good about applying the guilt when I travel, and it's awful. It makes me feel selfish - but really, although we certainly need my salary and it helps a lot, the real reason, deep down, that I work is for me. I need it. I need the interaction with people, and the intellectual stimulation, and the ability to feel like I'm accomplishing something that's just mine. I've said before that I was the first person in my family to graduate college, and I went to college for a reason, and that reason was to have a successful career. So I guess it is a bit selfish. But I also think that's probably okay.

What I can't figure out is why there's guilt, anyway. I mean, who ever said I have to be the one to pick up my kid from day care every day? Who said I'm the one who has to get up first in the morning, and get everyone else moving? Who said I'm the one who has to make dinner? Certainly not my husband, who is more than willing and able to share all these responsibilities. Not my parents, both of whom always worked when I was growing up. Even my grandmas worked. Sometimes I think it's a function of moving to a different geographic area, where there seem to be more stay-at-home moms than I ever encountered where I grew up. I don't think I had any friends when I was younger whose moms didn't work. Everybody's mom worked. They had to, and that was that. So you'd think that moms my age would have purged all that guilt and second-guessing, because even their moms worked and they turned out just fine.

Maybe it's just me. Maybe I just always feel like I should be doing more.

Sorry to be so pensive. I just needed to get all that out.