I'm having one of those weeks where I'm failing spectacularly at everything. It's not my first rodeo.
Let's just assume the usual disclaimers of the many ways I'm lucky have all been said. True, but not the point of this post.
Being a working mom is hard. I wish I could be all "It's so empowering, yay feminism, I am woman, hear me roar!", and maybe sometimes I am, but now is not that time. Instead, I'm trying to hold down two full time, all consuming jobs simultaneously (one is parenting, if you didn't catch that). That's a recipe for guilt, feelings of failure, and exhaustion. I want to do my job well, but I also want to be a good mother, and guess what? Both of those things require a ton of time. So it sort of seems like they're mutually exclusive.
|But look at that mischievous little face!|
Yesterday I had to stay late at work to finish report cards and work at an evening event. Luckily, my husband understands that if I don't see my son before bedtime, I would actually crumple up and die. (Exceptions to this rule: meeting my one day old niece, birthing my own second child.) So Eric brought Dalton to school to visit, which was great.
|He laid on the floor and ate garlic bread.|
Except I still barely got to see him, since I was actually there to, you know, work. I made it home around 7:15, just in time to read Where's Spot before he went down for the night. Then I found myself back on the computer, doing work again, even though I needed to be back there in less than 12 hours. I couldn't manage to catch up on work, and an entire day had passed where I'd barely seen my own child. Not to mention the dishes overflowing in the sink, the toys everywhere, and laundry that (still) needs to be put away (but writing this post is clearly paramount).
|That one time I actually cleaned. He was fascinated.|
This morning, I pretty much laughed and said "NOPE" when my alarm went off to work out and could barely make it out of bed at the last minute. For the second day in a row. 13 week fetus + 13 month baby + job do not equal a #motherrunner. Although I do feel there's a good hashtag in there somewhere. And on that note, don't think you won't see #twoundertwo constantly on my instagram.
I'll play the pregnancy card to some extent, because I'm freaking exhausted from creating life. Probably how God feels. That is concerning though, because you know what's really tiring? BABIES. So this self imposed exhaustion most likely won't be letting up soon (but I still can't wait for newborn snuggles). On the bright side, weekends feel like a huge treat. I don't have to get up, work out (ha, on a spectacular day), and get showered and completely ready before Dalton is up. I can just sleep in until I hear him!
Speaking of sleep, the past two days Dalton has been passed out when we need to get him up and ready to go. Even turning on the light and turning off his white noise didn't wake him, so we had to take him out of the crib and then he would sit in our laps and rub his eyes. THE GUILT. We felt so bad but what can we do? Go to work late to let him sleep in? We try to put him to bed earlier but he just plays in the crib longer then...
Sometimes I torture myself by reading articles intended for SAHMs (and I know being a mom is hard no matter what, but this is my blog, so it's my place to complain about my personal issues) and there's all this talk of how lucky working moms are to go to work and get all these breaks - coffee breaks, lunch breaks, adult chit chat breaks...but they never share a job title, or more importantly, a listing for an opening at one of these magic unicorn leprechaun jobs with all these breaks. Can someone enlighten me? Because I would like to apply, and no one I know has jobs like this. I drink my coffee while running around making copies, passing out papers, writing objectives, and finishing up lesson materials for the day. I spend my lunch catching up on work email and paperwork. I wouldn't complain about work if it was mainly break time.
When I do foolishly decide I've earned a "break", and scroll through Facebook on my lunch, I generally see some cute picture of someone doing something fun with their child. And then I feel sad and guilty because I miss my own kid and we're not doing anything fun and then I'm throwing an unproductive pity party for myself instead of just getting shit done so I can leave at soon as possible to see him. I was going to take a day off in December to go see the Rockefeller tree with Dalton, but I'm already stressed out about missing time for prenatal appointments. I'm not even going to Dalton's well doctor visits now because of that (#momoftheyear) and also I know at some point he'll be sick and I'll stay home with him. So I feel guilty taking a personal day. And also guilty for not taking it to do something cool with him.
But at the end of every other week, I get a paycheck for all my troubles. Which I then hand over a large part of (soon to be larger) to someone else, for watching our kid, the one thing I desperately want to do. The problem is, the rest of that paycheck pays things like our mortgage, so we kind of need it.
I promise I'm not looking for "you're doing great!" comments. I know I'm doing my best, and that I'm a good mom. The point of this post is to complain. And hear from other working moms that while it's worth it, sometimes it freaking sucks. But at least I get a break this year from pumping.
What freaking sucks in your life right now? Let's all complain!