How I sold my soul for a handful of Target gift cards
Alternate Title: The Mommy Wars: Reeking in my own ambivalence
heard rumor of a great and terrible battle. never expected to fight it with myself. in my own head.
I have been wrestling with my ambivalence as a paid working mom and how easily I find myself sucked into the workaholic mindset demanded in the workplace when, just a little over a year ago, my heart was planted along with my feet so firmly on the terra firma of my own home and I doubted I could ever commit myself to the rigorous schedule of serious employment.
Part of me knows the most important work I do is raising good kids and teaching them to be productive citizens.
Part of me gets a kick out of fixing an account for some big-named client from New York or Paris.
Part of me would rather be home using my discretionary time to volunteer at school or for some charity, to complete a quilt project I'm especially fond of, or go to lunch with the girls.
Part of me likes to watch the hours add up on the timeclock and calculate what overtime could be.
Or course I try to the do the rest of those things anyway. Just not as much as I used to or would like to.
Part of me has a hard time leaving the unfinished business at home behind and dragging myself to work.
Part of me has a hard time leaving the unfinished business at work behind and dragging myself back home.
Part of me would love to spend an entire rainy day now and then prone on the sofa, accompanied by a good book.
Part of me can and would put in an 11- or 12-hour day now and then and feel like I've really accomplished something.
Part of me would rather be home curled up with my sick kid than calling every hour and running home every couple of hours to see what was needed.
Part of me feels the pull of perfect attendance at work and rationalizes too readily that if I were home I'd be upstairs working on some other chore anyway and that my absence is not even noted.
But most of me knows that is a lie.
Part of me knows that despite the fact that what I do at home is 99.5% thankless, the .5% of the time I see gratitude in the eyes of the child is of greater worth than barrels full of accolades from strangers.
Part of me thrives on being recognized, acknowledged, appreciated, needed and even loved at work.
I think I almost despise that part of me.
Part of me felt judged because I did not take the entire day off work when my son was sick.
Part of me felt judged because I did not spend the entire day at work when my son was sick.
Truth is I felt I had little choice in the matter; yet truly, if he wouldn't have said it was OK when I asked him if I could go for a couple of hours, I wouldn't have gone.
Part of me likes being the hug that heals a skinned knee or settles a wounded heart, knowing I can't really fix anything, but at least I can be there to catch someone when he or she falls.
Part of me compensates for the fact that I can't really fix any of the real problems in my life by staying at work and fixing things I can fix there.
Truthfully I know the things I fix at work are really irrelevant to the general well-being of the world and the things I feel powerless over at home are infinitely more important.
Part of me likes to remind my workaholic co-workers that no one ever died and said they wish they would've spend more time at work and to encourage them to go home and spend some time with their families.
Part of me wonders if something bad happened tomorrow, would I regret not having spent more of these past 14 months at home?
Part of me feels intensely how wrong it is that work gets the best part of me early in the day. My family gets what's left over.
Part of me is still trying to volunteer at school in as many ways as I can, spend some times with friends once in a while, remain active in some meaningful charitable organizations and participate at least a little from time to time in one of my favorite hobbies.
That part of me is exhausted because the truth is, I really can't do it all.
I wonder, do I really want to?
heard rumor of a great and terrible battle. never expected to fight it with myself. in my own head.
I have been wrestling with my ambivalence as a paid working mom and how easily I find myself sucked into the workaholic mindset demanded in the workplace when, just a little over a year ago, my heart was planted along with my feet so firmly on the terra firma of my own home and I doubted I could ever commit myself to the rigorous schedule of serious employment.
Part of me knows the most important work I do is raising good kids and teaching them to be productive citizens.
Part of me gets a kick out of fixing an account for some big-named client from New York or Paris.
Part of me would rather be home using my discretionary time to volunteer at school or for some charity, to complete a quilt project I'm especially fond of, or go to lunch with the girls.
Part of me likes to watch the hours add up on the timeclock and calculate what overtime could be.
Or course I try to the do the rest of those things anyway. Just not as much as I used to or would like to.
Part of me has a hard time leaving the unfinished business at home behind and dragging myself to work.
Part of me has a hard time leaving the unfinished business at work behind and dragging myself back home.
Part of me would love to spend an entire rainy day now and then prone on the sofa, accompanied by a good book.
Part of me can and would put in an 11- or 12-hour day now and then and feel like I've really accomplished something.
Part of me would rather be home curled up with my sick kid than calling every hour and running home every couple of hours to see what was needed.
Part of me feels the pull of perfect attendance at work and rationalizes too readily that if I were home I'd be upstairs working on some other chore anyway and that my absence is not even noted.
But most of me knows that is a lie.
Part of me knows that despite the fact that what I do at home is 99.5% thankless, the .5% of the time I see gratitude in the eyes of the child is of greater worth than barrels full of accolades from strangers.
Part of me thrives on being recognized, acknowledged, appreciated, needed and even loved at work.
I think I almost despise that part of me.
Part of me felt judged because I did not take the entire day off work when my son was sick.
Part of me felt judged because I did not spend the entire day at work when my son was sick.
Truth is I felt I had little choice in the matter; yet truly, if he wouldn't have said it was OK when I asked him if I could go for a couple of hours, I wouldn't have gone.
Part of me likes being the hug that heals a skinned knee or settles a wounded heart, knowing I can't really fix anything, but at least I can be there to catch someone when he or she falls.
Part of me compensates for the fact that I can't really fix any of the real problems in my life by staying at work and fixing things I can fix there.
Truthfully I know the things I fix at work are really irrelevant to the general well-being of the world and the things I feel powerless over at home are infinitely more important.
Part of me likes to remind my workaholic co-workers that no one ever died and said they wish they would've spend more time at work and to encourage them to go home and spend some time with their families.
Part of me wonders if something bad happened tomorrow, would I regret not having spent more of these past 14 months at home?
Part of me feels intensely how wrong it is that work gets the best part of me early in the day. My family gets what's left over.
Part of me is still trying to volunteer at school in as many ways as I can, spend some times with friends once in a while, remain active in some meaningful charitable organizations and participate at least a little from time to time in one of my favorite hobbies.
That part of me is exhausted because the truth is, I really can't do it all.
I wonder, do I really want to?
Comments
This reminds me of that email floating around...has been for a few years now about the Mormon mom who "did it all" and then dropped dead.
In many ways I can relate. The rest is more vicariously experienced through what my wife tells me. She struggles constantly with trying to balance her chaotic world.
This is an excellent, honest, throw-it-all-out-on-the-table post. As strongly as I've felt about being a SAHM, I can totally relate to the thanklessness and monotony of the job and the work kudos being sweet rewards. Thanks for posting it.
I would love to hear from some stay-at-home mom's and see if there is any less guilt. (somehow I doubt it)
I stayed at home (which is actually a misnomer, because as my kids got older I rarely found myself at home) for 16 years till my youngest was in first grade. So now I've seen it from both sides. The part I find startling is the battle from both sides going on in my own heart and head. Am I crazy?
If anyone would've told me some year and a half ago that I would soon find myself in the paid work force and enjoying it I would've laughed heartily. I never saw it coming.
As for how my life was before I sold my soul for a handful of Target gift cards (my other title for this post):
Still did the guilt thing.
Still didn't get it all done in the day. A week. Or even a year.
Still felt judged.
Still had weeks like this one in which my schedule is packed and I'm gone every night.
Still battled with insomnia worrying over all I had to do.
Still exhausted.
(Someday I'll write about how scary and yet entertaining it is to return to interview for a job after 16 years away--how they ask you for the address of your last employer and you have to reply, "Um, they razed the building and there's a Wal-Mart there now" or when they ask for contact information of your last supervisor and you have to tell them, "Um, you might have difficulty reaching her, she died back in '02.")
Tee hee! (I am tired of, for and on behalf of me too!)
And as for a brain that is split down the middle, I know all about that kind, in my way. Don't beat yourself up over it.
Great way to articulate it......
I think your point about not being able to do it all is right on track. The December TFOT lesson in our ward is the talk by Elder Ballard on finding balance. I don't think it was a message that Saints needed to hear 3 generations ago nearly so much as we do now.
Baby steps...
However, working gives me time to think that with six kids underfoot all day, I just can't seem to accomplish at home.
Well written compulsive! I emphasize with almost everything you said.
This was so perfectly and honestly expressed. I will agree with Li that feeling good about where we are at any given moment is a gift of sanity for ourselves. It provides security for our "neglected" children when we communicate to them that we can love them even while we're away from home, at work.
You know I have shed millions of tears over not having the choice to stay at home . . . and you know my family is turning out okay. God bless you. God is blessing you... keep up the good work (at home and elsewhere!)