I have entered a new phase of my mom – slash – careerdom. I have alluded to my fall layoff from my position as the head of marketing at a ”family friendly, Working Mother Top 100″ employer, as a result of my 2-day-from-home schedule. Since that layoff, I did some consulting and decided to take the time to figure out exactly what I wanted to do–beyond making Detours a viable, perhaps full-time-career, option.
An interesting stopping point on this journey came last night as I hauled the girls off to the library for a free (that’s a key word these days, though I find refreshingly not just for my not-working-self but for many in this economy) puppet show. Who did I see across the room but the head of HR from my old company, who lives in my town? While certainly we have a cordial relationship, as I know it was nothing personal, I’d probably have preferred to not be wearing a Target shirt, 10 year old Abercrombie shorts, with my hair scrunched back in a ponytail and only a quick swipe of mascara on, when I saw her. Even better, I realized after I sat down that I had some sort of banana bread batter droppings up my arm, from earlier exploits. No one knew that but me, I don’t think, though.
Nevertheless I decided that the time has come to dive back into my blogging. The impetus behind this is the stated aim of the blog, to give a perspective on how moms these days balance it all. I know, from talking to different folks at conferences and online, that a surprising number of people take comfort in some of the things I share on this blog, seeing themselves in the stories or their own situations in my relating of the craziness of my everyday. And I also think it will force me to try to find the funny in some of the not funny.
For I know that no one wants to read of how hard it’s been the last 6 months–how frustrating it is to see things I put in place in my old job succeed without me but because of me. To see how they aren’t even doing half of what I did by myself but they still have jobs. It’s been hard to take consulting jobs that I know aren’t “all I can be”. It’s also a CONSTANT struggle–as in every day, every minute–to look at my girls and know that I absolutely want to be with them all the time. One of them has recently developed the four-year-old talent of drawing people–you know, the people with circles for heads and legs and arms sticking out of those heads? (She’s the only kid ever who does this, right? She’s a prodigy??) Well, she’s now decided to err on the side of realism and has begun adding ears to those people! I don’t want the babysitter to be the one to see that. I want to be with them all the time and ALL THE TIME I am thinking I want to do more. I want to write. I want to “market” (my chosen profession). I want to talk with people and be important, as I felt in my “real jobs”. Important, not just round-the-clock needed. Then I think how important was that work when they summarily released me and life goes on as usual, there–while my girls need me?
My oldest, two weeks ago, went into the hospital. She had a perforated appendix, at 5. Certainly kids have so many scary illnesses and God Bless you, and your children, if you are dealing with a serious one; I knew (and was repeatedly told) that appendix-outs are THE most common operations for children. But it’s still scary to hear “Mommy, give her a hug and a kiss” as she heads into the operating room; it still made me cry to go into her room to gather the pillows and books and nighties from home to bring to the hospital for her, and think “What if she can’t come back here?” I cry now just thinking of it. I cried as she sat in the ER yelling at me as they put in her second IV “Mommy make them stop it!” because I knew they were helping but I felt bad, that I couldn’t help her. I stayed at the hospital for two full weeks with her, life on hold, thanking God that I was able to do so (work-wise) because she needed me. And my heart goes out to everyone who doesn’t have that choice to make.
So that was an awful two weeks and yet, I was still able to find moments of humor–such as in that ER on our second pass through when I had not only the “victim” but her twin sisters ALL YELLING at the top of their lungs, on my lap, as both nurses yelled as they all tried to get one IV in. I thought to myself THIS is what is going to send me to a padded room and the only thing for it was to laugh. Just as it was equally preposterous that I was driving around town, on the odd 30 minutes that I was able to escape the hospital to dash home to shower, with a TOILET in the back of my car since prior to appendectomy we were trying to renovate bathrooms on the cheap and used our one date night in 9 years of marriage to hit Lowes, without kids, to buy said toilet…but we hadn’t had time to unload it. So in some sort of Sanford and Son revival I drove around like a jerk with it rocking back and forth in the back with dirty laundry and random balloons. So that’s a little funny.
And though much of my current state, I feel, is not-so-funny, I know that if I try to write about it with humor perhaps it will inspire me to feel better and less sad and depressed about the state of where I stand. This is, to be clear, where I stand. In the past, I’ve hesitated to blog on certain things I’ve gone through in an effort to not seem judgmental on other’s choices to stay at home, work, etc etc. Let me be clear now that the premise of these conferences, and how I really feel, that everyone’s choice on staying at home or working is an entirely personal one. There isn’t a right answer, globally, because there are different right answers for everyone–I never judge anyone or their choices, except myself–and I reevaluate those choices every single day ad nauseum, way way way too often. Thus, when I write of my own frustrations and doubts, they are mine and not meant to project my own opinions on your choices. Read or ignore but over the upcoming entries my goal is to try to profile a bit more on how one well-educated and very experienced marketing professional keeps sane while seeking solid gigs and providing ROUND THE CLOCK on-call service for 3 little girls and a husband-who, by the way, hit the stereotype square on the head by leaving the house a disaster in my 2 week absence, up to and including not replacing a single toilet paper roll. Proving, in fact, that I guess only I can do it.
