Juggling

Burning the candle at both ends...a balancing act...the work life balance...there are so many ways we say it. I remember a colleague of mine said wherever you are, you think you should be in the other place. That says it. While rocking Mr. Snuggles just now, I was thinking about all the things that await me tomorrow at work. I was thinking that I am kind of glad I have somewhere else to go tomorrow that challenges my brain in a different way than figuring out the mood swings of a 3 1/2 year-old. Then  I thought about how if I weren't working professionally, maybe I would be channeling that energy into figuring out how to better handle those mood swings or what to fix for dinner or how to squeeze more out of our budget or how to make Christmas presents this year or whatever. I guess I am just thinking that when you have a professional job in addition to the mothering duties/ job, you spend (ok, I spend)  most of your time trying to accomplish both while doing both. Which doesn't work. Or at least it doesn't work very well. If I were just doing one job, (the one I can't quit -- the mothering gig) I would redirect my energies to making the home/ mothering job better. Would it work this way? I don't know. Maybe I would just become frustrated that I wasn't using my degree as planned or that I was wasting something (what though?). Maybe my frustrations would reach epic levels and everyone in the house would suffer. This is what I wonder about...when I "should" be returning emails while Peach is entertained with the iPad and Mr. Snuggles is sleeping. It just never ends.

The magic hidden among the chaos

Miracle of miracles, I have a moment to type at this time in the evening! Peach and my husband are picking up pizza and Mr. Snuggles just fell asleep in my arms after briefly nursing. (For once I don't have to try to memorize what I want to write about the moment I find myself at my computer again...inevitably the ideas fade, change and become less post-worthy as the time passes).

Before laying him in his crib, I managed to catch a glimpse of his peaceful face with the fading light through his window. There really is nothing quite as sweet, innocent, peaceful and endearing as this face. Every child has it, not just Mr. Snuggles and Peach, I know. As I lay him down, the weight of the day seemed to slowly dissipate. Today was somewhat unusual in that I spent the entire day with both kids running errands nearly the entire day. It is not unusual that I spend entire days with both as my dear husband works so hard on our new home. He also works hard at his professional job. Running errands to and fro takes on a hectic feel, one that I don't like most of the time. It is hard at times because I am never sure what sort of tantrums will be thrown let alone how I will react to them. After my last post, I was at home with Mr. Snuggles every day due to a mysterious virus that mainly caused fever (sometimes scary high, boo), some icky diarrhea and a random vomiting incident (random in that it only happened once at 2:30 in the morning). Luckily, today he was relatively fever free and his smiley self again. So each day this week, I had to juggle the needs at the professional job and the home job. I don't think I did the professional job very well. I am so far behind on emails, memos, planning events and the like that I get a nervous pit in my stomach each time I think about it. So instead I'll focus on my home job. I felt good as a mom more times than not this week as I proactively went to the pediatrician twice (just to be sure it wasn't anything serious), stayed up during the night with Mr. Snuggles as he fought the uncomfortable feelings that come with a fever, was vigilant about hand washing (please, Peach, don't get sick!), and helped Peach through a few undocumented sightings of monsters at 3 in the morning (the most popular time monsters come to our house, not sure about yours!).

Back to today. Peach had a doctor's appointment to check the tubes in her ears (looking good!) and then we went to get Halloween costumes. Each year since Peach was born, I've always thrown something together at the last minute and always been disappointed. Halloween is one of those holidays that I always want to get by cheap but then regret it. So, this year, I decided to not go dirt cheap but go inexpensive and scored some good deals on a ladybug and a monkey. Before getting said costumes, the three of us hung out in my car in the parking lot while Mr. Snuggles slept. Peach was so helpful and all around darling. We sorted through things in my purse, she helped decorate the interior of my car with stickers and she was in awe as I blew bubbles with gum. Following this nice little interlude, we went in the store to get costumes. Peach was once again so delightful and showed tremendous restraint while she picked up every Hello Kitty piece of merchandise placed just so by the register. I was amazed at her looking-but-put-back skills. And I was amazed at my resolve to not walk out of that store without saying Goodbye Kitty. I was calm, collected, affirming, and most of all focused on getting out in a patient manner. This does not always happen but I vowed I would remain composed and composed I was! Then on to the next store where Peach was to pick out her costume. A ladybug it was. There were also SO many distractions in this store! She was amazing! It was quite a treat to observe. The next few hours were packed with a quick lunch, a quicker walk back to the car and a pleasant hair cut for the sweet Peach at a new place. She was brave and intrigued by the man who spoke in a soft voice but whose body was anything but soft -- tall, built, full-of-tattoos, stark-blonde hair, holes the size of silver dollars  in his ears and silver studs in his face. But, he was really nice and let my daughter watch Strawberry Shortcake! And the haircut was cheap, thankfully.

Back home after a long day, Mr. Snuggles nursed for a bit and then we all tried playing together. Sometimes this works beautifully and other times it (I?) royally screws up. I was not patient and did not plan ahead. I am not faulting myself (trying to be very understanding after a year or more of sleep deprivation and working full time) but just trying to look back and think how I could have done a tiny bit better. I yelled. (I hate yelling) and ended up refereeing a time out (I hate time out). So, it turned out OK and I stuck to my word that the privilege of going to the park was taken away because of talking back and hitting. Instead we just went on a walk, mainly because we all needed it! And the weather was perfect. The walk was good. The rest of the afternoon and evening went as it typically does. The difference was the end (or near the end). As I was rocking Mr. Snuggles, I realized there was a hint of magic....peace...je ne sais quoi.. I didn't feel completely spent (tired, yes) or that I was digging at the bottom of the barrel for some energy. For some reason, on this day of staying with my priorities exclusively (my children)!unlike other days doing the same (maybe because it was Friday?), I didn't have to choose to balance. I liked it. A lot.

Overwhelmed

I used to get overwhelmed on Sunday nights. I had anticipatory anxiety about the next school day, what would my teachers ask me to do, what awkward social circumstances would I find myself in, would I get to class on time, you know...what every kid faces probably. Now, I get overwhelmed on Monday mornings. I look at my Inbox of professional work emails realizing how so very far behind I am. I look to my right and see a stack of papers that really need to be sorted, organized or "worked on." Then, I take a break and look at my Inbox of personal emails and feel guilty for not responding to a friend who announced her long-awaited and tried-for pregnancy. I then visit dear friends' blogs feeling guilty that I haven't posted pictures of my sweet children in months. I read of endearing moments with daughters and sons and wish I had the time and energy to write of my own endearing moments with my daughter and son. Sadness creeps in, jealousy peeks from around the corner and then resolve comes in view. Sadness and jealously and guilt certainly have their places ("every emotion is OK" the psychologist mother in me screams) but they only get you so far. So, I trudge on to use those as motivation to make some kind of change. Just not sure what yet.

Tearful Mornings

As much as I like to think my children like "school," there still are several tearful drop-offs. This makes this whole working thing so confusing emotionally. Each morning when I walk away from my son's room (which is, by the way, adorable and cuter than his actual room at home) at his child care center, I hold my breath with each step, hoping I don't hear his familiar cry. Because it is then that I will have to take about 10 more steps out of the building where his room is, until I don't hear the cry again. Every working parent knows that this time of the day ranks high on the "worst" list. Sure, the brainy part of your brain says, "he will be fine in 2 minutes, happily playing with is baby friends and warming up to his teachers. Soon you will be in your car, happily grooving along to some good music on your way to work, which will be productive and maybe even fun, with your wonderful colleagues. Then, you will get to pick him up and he will be so happy to see you that he will squeal with delight and all will be forgiven." But, your mushy heart says, "oh. my. god. How can you be doing this to Mr. Snuggles? I mean, it's Mr. Snuggles! He LOVES you more than anything else in the world and you are leaving him? It is against human nature what you are doing! Go back! Go BACK! No work could possibly be worth it!"

Fortunately, I don't have to endure tearful mornings with Peach because currently we are on a wonderful streak of her truly looking forward to seeing her teacher and sharing some good times with great friends. Two babes crying is, like, quadruply hard. But even if that were the case, there is that brainy brain part of me that would take over and as much as I would hate it, I would still "press on" and go to work.

This is the conversation with myself that occurs on a very regular basis: to work or not to work (and by work, I mean have a professional commitment outside of home because goodness knows, every mother works). And so the conversation continues...

Messy business

So, I have been a bit remiss in keeping up-to-date. Several changes have occurred in our lives. We moved (a biggie!) and Peach and Mr. Snuggles have started a new preschool/daycare. The professional work part of life for my husband and me has stayed the same. (So, only the youngest two in our family who understand the least why things change in life (often for the better) have changed homes and schools -- eeek! I guess they will be accustomed to change as they get older). Moving, as everyone knows is messy. It is either messy at the point of departure or messy at the point of arrival and sometimes it is messy both places. We had the most "messy" at the point of arrival. You see, the previous owners of our new home did not clean their home. Not on a regular basis, nor at the point of their departure. I will spare the details but let's just say there were several runs to our local (oh what am I saying, national) super store for various cleaning supplies. It is still not as clean as I want it but back to work we went. It has brought up for me feelings I have about keeping house. On my good days I am not very hard on myself and I just recognize that when both partners work full time in demanding jobs and have no maid, the house is allowed to be a little unkempt. It is OK. On my not so good days, I feel incredibly guilty and really just yucky that I haven't dusted, vacuumed, straightened, deep-cleaned, organized, etc. It is not really the guilt that gets the best of me. It is the deep desire to dust, vacuum, straighten, deep-clean and organize that gets me. When I was single, I cleaned my apartment every Friday evening or Saturday morning without fail. I loved waking up to a clean home, ready to entertain others or just myself. It was my "clean slate" feeling kind of like the feeling you have when starting a new year or semester in school. Everything is as fresh as new notebooks and unsharpened pencils. Yes, I loved that feeling. But as I recall, those evenings and afternoons after said deep-clean, I would always be wishing and hoping for a date that would lead to another date and then a richer life with a partner and children than the creamy ice cream I would be eating for dessert. So, I suppose when all is said and done, I would rather have the mess of children and a loved home than no mess at all.

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.