Piece of Cake

Sometimes I wish that I had some sort of telepathic connection with my computer. I am constantly composing blog entries in my head—in the car, as I’m falling asleep in bed, taking a shower. It’s that additional step of sitting down and actually typing it out, or even remembering what it is I wanted to say when I’m at the computer, where I’m getting hung up.

I am a working mom. I have never felt so scattered, so one-step-behind, so worn out in my life. And, Zoë isn’t walking, yet. Mostly, though, I have never felt so emotionally conflicted. I love my “job” as a school psychologist and I love my “job” as a mom. But, while Zoë comes first in my life, she can’t really. Or, at any rate, not directly. She is first in that in order for her to be loved, cared and provided for, I need to work so we can pay bills, have a house and food. But, that doesn’t feel like putting her first. That feels like putting her second or third.

And, truthfully, I need to work because I need to work. There is a lot of intrinsic reward in what I do, but there is also the mental health aspect. I know every day that I’m going to get up and get dressed. I know I will have meaningful conversations with adults that do not revolve around my daughter’s bowel movements. I know I can get something done, pour all my attention into it, without worrying when Zoë will wake from her nap.

But, you know what? I want to be home with Zoë just as much as I want to work. I want to spend days playing with her on the carpeting. I want to see the world through her eyes, experiencing things for the first time. I want to know that I can take a nap when she does, or just get work done around the house (that’s one priority that is at the bottom of the heap). I want to have relationships with other moms in my neighborhood and be in playgroups. I don’t want to miss her like I do.

Really, I just want to have the energy to be the kind of mother and wife I feel like I need to be. The smiles and bouncing from Zoë when I pick her up from Gram’s are the best part of my day. I can’t wait to hold, and snuggle, and play with her. And then we get home, after 45 minutes in the car, I’m watching the clock for bedtime. Because I’m tired. Once she goes to bed, though, I’ve got to get dinner on the table and be attentive to my husband. But, I’m tired. (We can talk about his timing later.)

There’s this myth out there that women today can have it all. It’s bullshit. You can’t have it all, or certainly not all of the time. I mean, thank goodness I’m in a “job” where I get off two weeks at Christmas, one in the spring, and six during the summer. I get to be a stay-at-home for (effectively) 3 months a year, and a working mom the other 9. I’ve only been back to work for 6 weeks. I can’t imagine if I’d had to return to work 6 weeks after having Zoë and nothing but weekends to look forward to. I don’t have to place Zoë in a daycare center with strangers. But, I don’t have it all. I guess I don’t want to be told that I can, or should.

I’ve been bemoaning my lot quite a bit here. If my situation isn’t ideal, what would I like? I can’t have it all, but I can certainly have some. I would love to work part-time. I would love to have a childcare center on-site for the days I am working. I would love my husband to share meal-prep responsibilities. Okay, not meal-prep—but he can clean! I would love to be respected at work and at home for what I do in both arenas (can you imagine if your employer respected and valued your priority for home/family? or, if your spouse thought your “job” was as legitimate as theirs?). And, I would love to have a private trainer come to my house after Zoë goes to bed.

That last one I just threw in there. My pants haven’t been fitting so great.