Guilty (Part 1 of ?)

Oh, Mother Guilt. So many fellow bloggers and authors have written about the guilt mothers feel,  much more eloquently than I will. But, it wouldn’t be a blog about a mother working in a professional job without a post about guilt. This may the first of several times I write about it because I have this feeling a lot.

By the way, I am at Panera again, working solo. About 20 feet from me, facing me is a mother with her 4 children – three who are toddler age and 1 infant (as is said in the South, bless you, mother of 4). She seems to be a formidable mother conveying authority even though she is just sitting down and playing a game on her phone and her children are seated and standing in various profiles. A minute ago she stated, sternly “Absolutely not” to a question of one of her children that sounded like, “can we play in the water in the bathroom?” Absolutely not. There’s an excellent way of stating oneself. And, it ended it! The child did not ask any more. The mother then followed up with, “we may leave and go play at a park or you may color here at the table.” Now had that been me, I probably would have gently said, “no, honey, that is not a good idea because the bathroom is rather dirty and you could get very wet and you do not like wet clothes.”  Then, I may have stated what she said by providing other alternatives of activities. But, I don’t think I would have just come out and said, “Absolutely not.” Why not? That seems to be the easiest approach and so frickin’ effective! Next time, I’m saying, “Absolutely not.” So glad I do work at Panera, it’s like a office with a parenting lab in it.

Back to the guilt. In the afternoons, when I pick up Mr. Snuggles, an incredible kind sage of a woman is caring for him. She is grandmotherly, soft in her voice and demeanor. Well, Mr. Snuggles wasn’t feeling so good Friday afternoon and she let me know why she thought he was a little under the weather. “You know, he could be adjusting to being here full time now.” Thud. That was the bowling ball feeling of guilt crashing down in my gut. And then there was that awkward moment where your child’s caregiver is holding your child and you’re just standing there and every cell in your body is crying out, “GIVE ME MY BABY!!” Of course you can’t say that and you start to reach out your arms but then you notice that your child is quite content, calm, smiley and giving your child’s caregiver those appreciative eyes. Cheater, you think. Pin a big red “W” on my chest that stands for “Working.” Yep, guilty. Please forgive me, Mr. Snuggles! And then my mind goes down a path of rationalization, justification and apologies. It always ends with the question, “why, again, am I working?”  In an attempt to remain mindful and embrace the questions themselves, I will just recognize that this still is the question I am attempting to answer through this blog. Thus, I succumb to patience, once again.

Splitting

Last Wednesday I had a meeting at Panera. I love meetings at Panera. The kids were dropped off with relative ease, I had pumped in the car (gotta love the car adapter!) and was looking forward to my new favorite drink: small “half caff” with a shot of sugar free vanilla syrup. I was looking forward to meeting with my colleagues on a project that had lots of potential for positive change.  The meeting started off great, energized by my beverage (side bar: what do moms do without coffee? Whether you’re employed outside the home or working inside you’re humble abode, how do mothers function without coffee? There has been one time in my life when I was sans caffeine all day and I was exercising a lot, was only responsible for myself – being a grad student you know --  and could get a glorious 8 hours of sleep each night. Those characteristics of my life will never happen again so I seriously don’t think I will ever go without the glorious bean. End side bar) and the discussion of my colleagues.  And then they started trickling in – the cute mothers with their cute children meeting other cute mothers with their cute children. I could imagine their phone conversations a few days, maybe hours before “let’s meet at Panera at the mall! We can catch up and the kids can play. It can be a child AND mommy play date!” I could imagine those phone conversations because I had had those conversations with friends before. Suddenly the jealousy, doubt and guilt interrupted my nice meeting with nice colleagues and favorite beverage. Trying to refocus, I acknowledged and validated my own feelings (nice job psychologist-moml), recognizing that come Saturday or even another day off, I can do the exact mommy-kid play date that I was witnessing. OK, great. Moving on.

The rest of the meeting continued to go well and was actually productive. I felt boosted by my colleagues' plans and the projects underway and headed back to the actual office in which I would do more work. Reflecting on this experience, I realized how often I, and other mothers I know, feel like they are splitting parts of themselves when they have a professional job, outside the home. A little part of themselves goes here, another little part of themselves goes there. And like the yin and yang of life, wherever she is, she is thinking of the other part of herself that “should” be in the other place.  Now, typically I am not wanting to be doing my professional work while playing with my kids but I am sometimes thinking of what I need to be doing or what I will be doing once I go back on Monday. I think that this is an inevitable “given” of when you work outside the home and work inside the home. And it goes beyond that – I think this is a given for anyone who has a multifaceted life. Very few of us are able to dedicate 100% of our energy to one activity, even raising our children. So, even if I were not working professionally, I would probably feel split between housework, cooking, being a good partner to my husband, being a good friend and volunteering. Realizing this, it is rather reassuring that even if I did not choose to work professionally, I would still feel split. Now, I won’t question whether or not I am rationalizing, I will just be comfortable with my decision for now.