Editors Note: I originally wrote this post over the weekend. I’ve thought a lot about it since and well, unlike what I say in the first paragraph, this is still selfish. Possibly even more so than the last one. Alas, it’s Thursday and I need to put a post up. This one is pretty much ready to go, so here you are. Judge if you want or simply enjoy. Whatever. We’ll be back to yoga moves and cookie recipes next week.
Last week I wrote the post about why being a stay at home mom is rough. The comments were selfish; it’s why I think it would be bad for ME. But more important is my fear of how being at home all the time will/would affect my relationship with Eggroll. Why? Because it totally screwed up my mom and me.
Before I was born, my mom was managing a store her father owned. I was born a month early, on the day she quit work to prepare for my arrival (and the day she quit smoking… looks like I was Phoebe’s alter ego in utero). She stayed at home with me until I started kindergarten. Somewhere in there she got an interior decorating degree from Mount Mary pretty much just for something to do and to get me around other kids. As a trained teacher, she was hoping to get back to that, but wasn’t hired by MPS until I was five and then it was just as a sub. I can still remember the day, a year earlier, when she got the piece of mail rejecting her from that year’s class of new teachers. She cried and cried and I couldn’t figure out why she wouldn’t want to be at home and play with me all day.
I must have been four since I remember this. If you do the math (5 days a week for 50 weeks (allowing for my dad’s vacation days) for four years), that means she made over 1000 pb sandwich, green beans, and milk lunches, watched Sesame Street and Days of Our Lives in the afternoon 1000 times and walked through Brookfield Square every Wednesday morning 250 plus go ’rounds. Oh, the poor thing. No wonder she was going stir crazy. (We’ll ignore the whiny, demanding, only child personality of the kid she was watching, but I’m sure that added to her angst.)
She did all this with smile and grace and besides a few moments of weakness, she seemed up to the task. How was she rewarded? By me bouncing off the walls with joy and excitement when she said the best two words to my little ears: “Daddy’s home!”
I remember bounding towards the door and throwing myself at him. He would always play because he hadn’t been with me the whole damn day and only had to keep interested for a couple of hours before my bedtime. Then I would go to sleep and he’d be able to watch TV or play on the Commodore 64 or do whatever else grown-ups did back then.
I loved this time with dad and as we all know, my relationship with him only got better and better as the years went on. I didn’t have a bad relationship with my mom per say (besides the middle school years, but those sucked for everyone), but it never matched what I shared with pops.
By the time dad was gone and mom no longer had to compete for my attention, the rest of life had also beaten her down. No one – not me, not her students, not her colleagues, not her own mother – had shown her the gratitude necessary to keep up that front while we all bounded off in other directions to play while she stayed back at her perch. She still smiled and tried her best, but a woman can only keep that up for so long before turning to other vices.
Enter today. The day that I write this with my baby sleeping in the Bjorn here on my chest and my mom up in heaven not able to tell me how things really went down. She can’t tell me how she got through these exact same struggles I’m dealing with – how do I be a mom? What am I doing professionally? How do I fill my day without going crazy? How do I entertain Eggroll after eight hours without a nap? How do I continue to be a good wife? How do I get my body back? How do I not resent my husband if he becomes the hero to my child? How do I ensure my relationship with Eggroll is just as good as their’s?
Blah! It’s enough to make one talk to the skies in hopes that her mom may talk back. In fact, she did. About four months ago I received a package from the lady that bought mom’s house in Texas. In it were pictures that must have been lost in a corner somewhere and a story dad wrote in November 1980 about what it was like to be a new dad. (Seriously. It was his language and typewriter paper. He was absolutely the author.) Also, the owner wrote her own note. You can choose to believe it or not, but included in her story was something she said mom wanted to tell me:
“She wanted to make sure you know that she was sorry for some things and you would know what they were and she loved you. … She also wanted you to know that you are strong, she wished she was more like you, she was very proud of you and you will always be successful. In you she saw the woman she always wanted to be.”
I mean… Come on.
I knew mom loved me, but since she was always second in line behind dad or his memory, she didn’t get much of a chance to tell me these things live. This lady might be totally punchy, but I really don’t care. This is exactly what I needed to hear as I ventured into 2014, the year I would become a mom. I need to make sure I get those same points across to Eggroll when I can tell them to her face, not through a faceless stranger.
I truly think my relationship with Eggroll will be better if we’re not together all day. If some days Randy or a babysitter gets to yell “mommy’s home” to much scampering and smiles, we might all turn out for the better. One of my friends commented last week that she doesn’t know any parent of teenagers who wishes they were working when the kids were little. I think my mom would disagree with that comment. And I might, too. Only time will tell.
(P.S. Were there a MULTITUDE of reasons that Margo + Padre > Toonie + Mom? Absolutely. Those will need to be resolved at another time and blog post, but for now this is my issue.)
This one really has me thinking…but I just have a couple of things I know for sure…it’s absolute heaven when J sees me when I’ve been gone and she comes running at me full steam ahead. However, I truly don’t believe any good mom (your mom, you, etc…i say ‘good’ only to filter out the filth in this world we know exists unfortunately) regrets spending extra time with their kids. Perhaps some may ‘wish’ for other experiences in their own lives, but given the option of time with their child versus no time, I think more time with their child would be the choice. That being said, I don’t believe I could be a full time stay at home mom. I definitely think I’d love to be a part time one if I were in that position, but I’d most definitely need a job I enjoyed part time for my own pleasure/sanity. I also think having a career and being a strong woman has its part in being a great example. But the same could be said for being a stay at home mom. I’m multitasking…hope this all makes sense…
I love this post! You know my girls are still little and my husband and I both work. I think I’m a better mom when I work because I’m not sure that I’m patient enough to stay home all day. My Mom worked and we have a great relationship so I don’t know any different. I don’t have a choice not to work because of financial reasons, but if I did, I would chose to work. Kids need play time with other kids. They need to learn to share whether that be toys or germs. They need to know they will be ok when their parents leave them in the hands of qualified and loving caretakers because they will be picked up. When they are picked up (at least my two) and you see loving smiles (usually) with an excited “Hey Mommy”…I wouldn’t pass up for all the tea in China!!! Those smiles make my day. Stay-at-home Moms ~ I have to give it to you…it’s HARD WORK and I commend you more than you’ll ever know.
I agree with kids needing to be around other kids. I forgot to mention this…I never got that growing up and I think it directly affected me growing up… An awesome day care provider is an amazing thing for a child and making those friends and learning to play with others is super beneficial. I was an only child, so with no day care I never learned otherwise.
So here is a view from a daughter. It took me until I was an adult to figure out why mine and my siblings playmates always wanted to come to our home. We did not have the biggest house nor did we have all the new toys. In fact we were probably the poorest (in terms of money) of everyone else.
But what we had was a Mom who really listened to how your day was at school and provided a snack of some sort and not always cookies and milk. And no she wasn’t the ‘Leave it to Beaver’ type Mom. But she was ‘real’. Did she give up things for us? Absolutely. Could she have done both – work and be a Mom? I think so.
My Mom is dead after dying at the young age of 61 and I can’t go back and have this conversation with her. I sure wish I could. But this is what I know – we make the best decisions we can at the time. And those decisions can change. So maybe some times you multitask and juggle like no one else can and other times you might decide to take a year off and be the stay at home mom. Doesn’t matter as long as you get to make the decision.
Try not to over think everything.
Penn, you have some great points, but I think you forgot one thing… I overthink EVERYTHING! 🙂
My mom was not a “stay-at-home” mom. She taught dance, performed in conferences, designed and created costuming for other dancers and worked with local dance companies. I loved going places with her AND having her home when I would get out of school. I got to see some great performances, Middle Eastern and Ballet. Her activities usually took place after school or on the weekends.
My experience as a working mom has been a mixed bag. I have always worked (from the age of 15 1/2) but do everything outside of work with my kids. Sometimes I don’t think my mom understands that we share the same passions for the things we have chosen as careers. I can’t see myself being anything other than a nurse, just like she could not see herself being anything other than an artist.
I take great lengths to provide my kids with activities and vacations. Sometimes it feels like I don’t have enough time to spend with them. But I don’t think I could be a the kind of mom my mother wants me to be. I can’t imagine not working. So why do I feel so guilty? There is a generational disconnect. Do we work to become productive working women? Do we stay home to be productive mothers? It is really hard to be both. But we do the best we can.
My kids and all the kids that hang with my children come to me for advice. I listen to them and ask them about the decisions they will have to make. I don’t think that would be the case if I weren’t a good mom. Its a choice, stay at home or be a working mother.
We have that choice. I don’t think our mothers had much choice until the kids were grown.
Sarah, my dad always said all problems could be boiled down to “no girlfriend or two girlfriends”. You’re right – we’re lucky to have two (or maybe more?!) potential girlfriends in this case.