When it comes to working mothers, there have been many great stories, introspective articles and fiery confessionals – and adding one more to the list may not be needed. But there are times when one has to stand up for what they believe in and voice their opinion- be it right or wrong.
When I was a little girl I contemplated the day I would have kids and thought I had an easy path in front of me that would allow me to keep up with my career and the job of being a mom. I would create scenarios of all kinds with my best friends- each in our naïveté – and would assume that anything is possible.
Three decades later I stand proof that everything is possible- not quite in that fairytale, idyllic perfect family kind of way -more in a sucked up into a hurricane and spit up in the middle of nowhere kind of way – but possible nonetheless. I have two gorgeous children (who demand a lot of attention and fun), a great job (that demands an inordinate amount of my time) and a great husband (who puts up with everyone’s demands). I’m not painting just my own picture here- but one for all my friends who are hopelessly in love with their life- both their family and work.
And just like with any story there is the good and the bad.
The good is when I get home early enough to put my kids to bed and when I can sneak away on their first day of school to take a picture and post on my Instagram. It’s the family trips we take together, which allow our kids to experience the world through new eyes- therefore slowly helping them define who they are as people. I’m remembering the countless times I held my kids in my arms in the middle of the night when they could not sleep, when they were not feeling well, or when they just wanted extra love. I’m thinking of the thousands of trips to Disneyland, parks, water parks, adventure areas and more – going down the kiddie slides and loving every minute of it. Spending countless hours at night ordering decorations for their birthdays (most of which they will never remember) or driving for 2 hours entertaining them in car just so they can pick cherries and have a picnic in the countryside. For me, just like for any other mom- the good times are the best and we cherish every single minute. Because we know that once that moment is over, we have to turn right back around and go to work.
And while most of us love what we do with every fiber in our being, we also miss out on things. I missed my daughter’s first ballet recital – and the second one for that matter. I am not home every night to put her to bed – and sadly I am not home sometimes several nights in a row due to a heavy travel schedule. I don’t necessarily know what she had for lunch or whether my son had a long nap. I miss out on most parent association meetings and am barely able to keep track of the school schedule (on top of my own). I worry that her little fish may die because I am not always there in the morning to remind her to feed him and I definitely have my fair share of non-existent breakfasts. Don’t even think of Mickey Mouse shaped pancakes cause I may start crying.
And while the list could go on in both the good and the bad- I think it all comes with being a working mom. It’s definitely not balanced or perfect but personally- I make the best of it and know in my heart that my kids are the most important thing in my life and me missing out on the ballet recital or not making fun shaped pancakes in the morning is probably not going to ruin their life.
As moms we get to this place where we try to showcase a perfect family and an extremely balanced life. We want for our neighbors and friends to label us as “good moms” and family leaders. But we forget that in the bigger picture, no one can really assess our family life. That from the outside it can look one way but inside it’s a whole different thing.
So check all that at the door and go in. You will hear the rapid pitter-patterfor the door, the excited shrieks and the pure joyous emotions – and the next thing you know – you will be covered in kisses, hugs and love. And with that… nothing else matters.