Work v Mom

As my first Mother’s Day approaches, I have spent a little time (on my drive, see previous post about my drive) thinking about my first year as a mother. I gave birth just after mother’s day last year, so I get to really commemorate my mother’s day s in full years. It’s still weird to be called a “mom” but I’m getting more used to it, as I’m dying for Reed to say ‘mama’ before he says anything else. I’ve also very much embraced becoming a parent and when you do that, you become a mom.

I’ve been thinking if I’ve been a good mom so far or not. Do the choices I make help my son grow and learn? Have I made decisions that might harm his physical health? Am I mentoring him enough by example to teach him to be a good person? Am I too protective, not protective enough? Am I the kind of mom that my son looks back on as the most amazing person in his life?

If you look at things practically, then I guess I’m doing ok. He’s still alive – score one for me. He’s pretty happy and healthy – two for me. He’s clean, well-fed, cared-for and sheltered – three for me. But let’s go beyond that. I’ve been thinking a lot about the fact that I work full time and spend almost every day, all day long away from him and have to depend on very, very generous people in my life to care for him.

For all practical purposes, I have to work. I must earn the income to support the lifestyle that we chose. Do I want to work? Well, no, not really. If I didn’t have the restraint of finances, I’d probably stay at home. But at the same time, thinking about being home all day every day (and by home, I mean the sole caregiver for my child) makes me crazy! I need to challenge my mind, interact with other adults, do something to feel a purpose. Is what I do so important that it makes the world go round? No, but what I do is interesting, challenging and people seem to appreciate me. But most days, I spend much of my day wondering what Reed is doing. Is he napping, eating, playing? Is he happy, doing something new, learning something?

Several months ago, Reed was on the cusp of crawling as I have my coat on, bag over my shoulder, car keys in hand to go to work. I would have died if he crawled for the first time while I was at work. So I stuck around to watch it happen and was ½ hour late to work. Absolutely worth it! But how many other firsts am I going to miss while at work? I don’t get to know every nuance of Reed’s day or behavior. I don’t get to observe when something just clicks for him. What if I miss the first real steps? Or first word? I’m so busy that I didn’t get do things that I wanted to like take a picture of him every week next to the same stuffed animal. For this, I feel like a failure. I feel like I’m not always there for him when he might want me. I’m certainly not the only “woman” in his life he can completely trust. I’m not the one that taught him everything he knows.

On the other hand, when I work, Reed learns valuable things that I can never teach him. Like how to trust that I’ll ALWAYS come back. And that there are other fabulous, loving people in his life that would do anything for him (thanks so much Nana and Lala!). And how to relax and nap in an unfamiliar place. And to play with other kids sometimes (thanks Bree and Jill!). And to be with a stranger sometimes is ok. And to be with other dogs. I’d say that he is a well adjusted child because of this.

People told me that after the first few months back to work, I wouldn’t be so sad to be away from my kiddo, that it got better. I’m apparently not like these people because it has not gotten better. I’m still sad to walk out the door in the morning and drive away from my little buddy. I’m still so glad to walk in the door at the end of the day to see him. I still wish all day long that I could give him a kiss or watch him sleep. I’ve been back at work for 9 months now and I still feel like I did that first day.

Being a mom is hard work. A kind of hard work that can’t be described or empathized with. It’s that you are always a mother. Every moment of every day, you are a mom. When you are away from them, you are still a mom that worries and wonders and loves and wishes. You must provide everything from making them clean, to a bed to lay their big heads. And food to put in their mouths and a shoulder to rest on. The burden of a mother doesn’t ever go away. And I appreciate my mom a whole lot more for being a mom.

So the debate goes on, every single day in my head – Work v Mom. Do I have to choose? Can I be both? I wish nothing more than the best for my child, as every parent feels. Is working actually making me a better parent because I’m not frustrated, or worse because I spoil him when I am there? Until I have a choice, I suppose I’ll have to learn to be ok with being a working mom.

I can’t be perfect at being a parent, I don’t believe there is such a thing. But I hope that I allow him to explore and learn things on his own, but still make sure he is safe. I hope that I give discipline when it’s needed and love when it’s wanted. And teach him to be a good, respectful, caring, giving, thoughtful and intelligent adult. But at least I get 17 more years to figure that out…