A Mile in Her Shoes- Competing for the Mommy-Martyr Crown

I watched as each woman gracefully walked to her place on the stage. Each one a picture of poise and beauty. Their Runway strut and pivot turns were  “America’s Top Model” perfect.

They were all:
• Beautiful
• Intelligent
• Resourceful
• Unique
• Dedicated
• Incredible

And, vying for the same crown. The competition was fierce. It was game on. I eyed the crown, for inspiration, before I went to take my place along side them. The glitter and prestige made me gag on my insecurity.  Nausea be darned: “I want that crown.” I thought. I strode across the stage.

The music slowed, then quieted. The announcer made her way across the stage to ask the “crowning” question of each contestant. I worked to listen to their answers and reconsider my own well-practiced one, while trying to simultaneously size the other contestants’ answers up.

Each one gave it her best. (This was a serious contest.)

Each answer was more difficult than the next.

I started to feel small. Smaller. Smallest. I don’t mean in dress size. I wondered if my answer would seem petty. I wondered if I should be on the stage with these women, at all. I wondered if I could sneak out, without being noticed.

I wondered which of them would win the crown. It wasn’t going to be me.

What was the question?

“What’s the hardest type of mom to be?”

Not exactly the type of question you were expecting in a pageant?

Well, I admit it. I lied. There was no pageant. I’ve never even been to a formal gowns, bathing suits and brutal stage lighting pageant. Please, being in one? That would be my nightmare.. Especially after 3 kids and more years than I care to count. Let’s just say, the bathing suit thing gives me hives- which might camouflage my stretch-marks, but won’t win me a crown.

I have, however, competed for the Mommy Martyrdom Crown. Several times. Whether it’s a question that’s actually been posed to a group- or one that’s implied, it’s one I’ve competed to answer.

Have you competed for the same crown? It’s a one-up-momship. A “my life is hard than your’s–so- you- should- not complain”  contest.

The thing is, no one wins.

After a winner is crowned, the rest of the contestants line up to congratulate her: “I don’t know how you do it.” “I could never do that” We offer them as blessings, but the words become walls. Miss congeniality ends up feeling “less than.” And the winner? She feels…… “more than.”

The Crowned Martyr-Mom has convinced herself (and others) how awful her life is, while at the same time convincing the others how petty their struggles are. She’s got skillz. We all do. Because we all know how to play the game.

We just don’t know how to win- because – everyone loses. We disconnect because we can’t be authentic with each other.  We’re too busy either trying to top each other or feeling guilty about feeling frustrated by “our little issues.”  In the end- intimacy is lost. Intimacy is way more valuable than a tinsel crown.

The Martyr -Mom  is miserable. So are the rest of us.

What if we stopped competing? What would it look like if we could learn to hear and understand the struggles of others without comparing our own? What if we set aside the Martyr-Mom crown for the crown of friendship?

What if we learned to respect each other’s challenges?

We are all:

• Beautiful
• Intelligent
• Resourceful
• Unique
• Dedicated
• Incredible

We’re also all:

• Living with challenges
• Imperfect
• Frustrated
• Overwhelmed
• Grieved
• Perplexed

At any moment in time- we could each win that crown. But, we could have so much more than that.

• We could learn the grass isn’t always greener on the other side of the fence.
• We could grow in compassion
• We could learn from the struggles of others- before they become ours. (Trust me, it happens.)
• We could find out we’re not alone.
• We could find help and hope in the stories of others.

How can we stop the pageant? Maybe, we just need to leave the stage. Together.

I quit. I quit comparing. I want to listen and love. I want to build intimacy not compete for martyrdom.

How ’bout you?

 

A Mile in Her Shoes- Work at Home Mom: Expectations and Delegation

Carrying an overflowing laundry basket, I stomped to the laundry room.  “I can’t believe how much laundry these people dirty in a week.” I punctuated each syllable with a “Stomp. Stomp.  Stomp.” I bent to open the washing machine door and was met by the unpleasant mustiness that is laundry left too long before drying. “UGH.” It was 8:15 am and I was already behind.  I wanted to start working by 9:00.

“Didn’t I tell you guys to switch the laundry from washer to dryer last night?” I yelled to (maybe at) my older sons. They kept quiet.  They knew the truth: I wasn’t asking to get an answer. I was asking to get a confession. After which, there would be no plea-bargaining, only sentencing. I was Mom, prosecutor, judge and jury.  The verdict was already in: my family is guilty. Of what?  Not helping. (At least not helping enough.) The first to admit guilt would be the first to be judged. I didn’t blame them for silently pleading the fifth amendment.

I refilled the laundry detergent dispenser and added a few splashing tears along with more fabric softener. I closed the drawer and tried to remember how many times I’d already run it through. ” 3, 4?  Maybe ?” I wondered.  Honestly?  I had no idea. I felt frustrated – but  I wasn’t impressed. (My personal best for rewashing a laundry load is set at 6.  it was an entire week of washing the same load of laundry before actually getting it clean, dried  and put away. I was busy!)

I stomped downstairs to the kitchen and found the sink full of dishes. “Where did these come from? I just did the dishes!” I’m not sure who I was asking, or why… I already knew the answer:  They came from everywhere and nowhere. I opened the already running dishwasher and blindly stuffed them in.  I didn’t even care if they got clean, I just didn’t want to see them in the sink.

It was now, 9:00 am and I was already angry, frustrated and overwhelmed.  With no one admitting guilt, I turned my inner judge and jury loose on my self.

“I can’t do it all.”  I whispered in admission to myself.

My verdict?  

 

A Mile in Her Shoes- Work At Home Mom- Multi-tasking and Guilt.

The washing machine’s barely out of balance “rumble, thunk, thunk” and the dishwasher’s not quite quiet hum, assuages my guilt.  In theory. I am multi tasking.  Housework while writing, or is it writing while house-working? I don’t know. I’m trying to do both while feeling guilty for doing neither, well.

As I type, I am  hoping my second grader is enjoying his mid-winter break sleepover. I am wearing noise-canceling headphones to drown out the sound of two boys throwing paper airplanes to soar across my foyer. It’s possible they are aiming for the cobwebs in the window to see if they will stick, like a fly. My guess is they will. The cobwebs are impressive, even to these- record-setting spiders.

The dogs are barking at each plane thrown. Or maybe at each boy, warning them not to run in the house.

I open this file and stare at the screen:

“Where was I?” ” Was I really drawing a parallel between shaving my legs and shoveling snow?  What does that have to do with being a Work at Home mom?””

I hear running on the steps.

“Boys, no running in the house.” I yell, half heartedly. I know they won’t stop. They are second grade boys with airplanes, it’s not genetically, possible.

I look back at the screen.  The cursor’s blinking mocks me.  It’s blinking line points to the place where I last typed. Unfortunately, it does point in the direction I was going with that thought. I am clueless, or maybe distracted.

The youngest comes back in to the living room. “Mom? When can we go sledding? You promised!”

Guilt grips my heart like a too-tight pair of jeans. It binds and constricts. My heart is divided. I want to take them sledding like I promised. But,  I have a (self-imposed) deadline on this book proposal. I want to have the house picked up before my husband arrives home from a business trip sometime this afternoon.   I need to go to the grocery store or we’ll e ordering pizza for dinner.

The clock ticks on… I am running out of time.

“We’ll go sledding when I’m finished working. The more you interrupt me, the longer it will take.” I snap.

I look back at the screen.  The cursor blinks on a half filled page.  I re-read what I’ve written.  DELETE. DELETE. DELETE.  I’ll have to come up with something else.

“Buzz.” I hear the dryer warn me of impending wrinkle doom.

“Noah?  Go upstairs and re-start the dryer.” I call.  I know the clothes are already dry, because this is the third dryer cycle of the day.  I wonder how much money and natural gas I’d save if I did this less often. “Not very green.” I chide myself. Guilt tries to settle on my shoulders. I shrug it off.

“A mom’s gotta do, what a mom’s gotta do.” I chant. It’s the mantra of a work at home mom.

The problem is, it isn’t always clear what the right answer to the  “What does a work at home mom  gotta do, NOW? “ question.

• Should I blow off my writing goal and take the kids sledding?  It is their mid-winter break, after-all.
• Should I send the college boy to pick up groceries?  Or should I plan on ordering pizza (yet again) for dinner?
• Should I send the dogs to doggy daycare for a month, so I don’t have to type while holding them apart with my left foot? (The shorkie  puppy is in a “jump on the beagle’s back like you’re in a doggy circus” phase.  The beagle does not like this phase.  She makes this evident by barking, a lot.)  My dividing foot is is all that stands between the shorkie and being a beagle snack. Or, from banishing the beagle to a galaxy far, far away. (Probably cost inhibiting.. as I don’t yet have a contract for this book.  Well- probably cost inhibiting even if I did… Doggy daycare= pricey!)
• Should I send the kids outside to play in the backyard so I can finish this piece, in peace? Could they sled down the backyard slope and call it vacation fun?  Probably not.

Guilt is something every mom faces..

 

A Mile in her Shoes-Work At Home Mom- Double Booked, I think.

“That can’t be right.” I said to the calendar, mocking me from it’s place of honor on the fridge.

I double checked.

It was. *Sigh.* I’m not sure how I managed to do it.  I’m leaning towards blaming Apple for a syncing problem, how’s that?  I have one appointment on the house calendar and one in my iPhone- for the same day.

I am double booked for next Friday.  Speaking (On Loving Your Strong Willed Child ) and Second Grad Math Mom, in my youngest son’s class.

When I really looked at the appointments, (Skimming can cause undue panic- will I ever learn, that?) I discovered they don’t overlap.  This time. It hasn’t always ended so well.

As a Work From Home Mom, I am on the short list for the school to call.  I get calls to help with parties, to purchase and organize crafts and snacks and yes, to help with math explorations. I don’t just get the calls, I’m expected to do it. Don’t get me wrong,I want to be involved.  I also have other commitments. Like speaking,  meeting deadlines and writing. I can’t do it all. Sometimes I have to say “No.”

Saying “No.” in itself,  is hard.  People make it even harder. I hear things like: “Oh- I thought you were at home?” Or “But, you’re home during the day, right?” Sometimes it’s just a look. A look that communicates the same thing or worse.

I  thought that being a Work From Home mom- would be the perfect answer for mothering. I’d always be there for my kids and always be able to do my job.  It’s not. Sometimes, I have to leave a sick kid with his older brother, because I’m the scheduled speaker.

Sometimes, I can’t have three 7 year olds running through the house- even if it is midwinter break.  I have a book proposal to complete.  (Second graders playing hide and seek, while I write  are a challenge even for this Multi-Tasking-ADD Queen.)  I can’t do it all.

I can do what needs to be done.  I am.

Work From Home Moms-

• Do you sometimes feel guilt tripped because you can’t do it all?
• Do others always respect your schedule?
• Have you ever found yourself double booked?  What did you do?
• What kinds of things do you have to say “No” to?

 

A Mile in Her Shoes.. Mommy Myth Busting- What’s it like to Work From Home?

I stared at the beagle.  Mentally willing her to stop barking.

It didn’t work. I had met my match in the strong-willed department. She is a beagle, named Sami. She feels a need to bark at every moving object, from snowflake to rabbit.  And this was a day for moving objects of all sorts. There would be no quiet. (I admit to considering a bark collar.. for just a few minutes, well maybe long enough to look them up online…maybe.)

I unplugged my lap top and took it to the family room looking for some quiet.  There I found a teenager and college boy deep in “vent” conversation.  They were arguing politics with the internets.  It was not a battle that would end soon, or well. I hushed them and pointed to my laptop.  They glared back and pointed at their headsets in a “We were here first.” international sign language of annoyance.

I stomped upstairs and headed for my bedroom.  Maybe I’d be able to make my Skype call there. As I reached for the doorknob, I heard a familiar baritone voice.  My husband had beat me to it.  He was working from home today and was on a call of his own.

“Snow days should be illegal.” I announced,  to no one in particular.

I considered locking myself in the bathroom (every mom’s last hope for peace) but ruled that out due to the tell-tale echo. (It’s just not professional to make a call from the bathroom- even if you’re not actually using it as designed.) I Headed back down the hallway. I opened the portal to a post-apocalyptic toy store scene- that is my youngest son’s room. I kicked (maybe not so gently) a few stuffed creatures from beside the bed and cleared a space to set down my laptop.  I sat down on my knees, as if in prayer. Mostly because there wasn’t room to stretch out, I found myself surrounded by action figures, laundry and Lego’s: the trifecta of boy-messes.

I felt tiny shorkie licks on my left foot.  I hadn’t closed the door quick enough.  I’d been joined by Bella. My pup.

I ignored her.  “At least she doesn’t bark.” I consoled myself, clicking the button to open my Skype application. I forgot that she scratches at doors when enclosed.

Which she started doing, just about the time my legs had fallen asleep and all of us on the call finally managed to login in to the same call at the same time.

“Well, it’s not as unprofessional as the tell-tale toilet echo.” I thought to myself, trying to concentrate.  Which is difficult enough when I can’t hear:  my husband’s voice in the room next door, the beagle barking in the distance, the raging internet political discussion- escalating  and Yo-Gabba- Gabba blasting from the TV downstairs through the bedroom door.

I think we covered the agenda. Mostly.

Work at Home Moms-

• Have you lived out scenes like this?
• Where do you hide- for peace and quiet?
• How do you manage snow days summer vacations or days off of school?
• What has surprised you as difficult about Working From Home?

 

Mommy Myth Busting- A Mile in Her Shoes- Work From Home Mom- Best of Both Worlds, or Not?

Click here to take survey Let other Moms know what it’s really like for YOU!

Wouldn’t working  from home be the perfect answer for moms?  You can do it all, right?  Be there for your kids, bring in extra income and fulfill the unique call on your life- all at the same time, right?

This week- I’ll be living the work from home dream… or nightmare.

In full disclosure- I’ve actually been a work from home mom for years- I just don’t get a paycheck.:)

Questions for Work From Home Moms:

1. What challenges do you face as a Work from home mom?
2. What do you love about working from home?
3. What common misconceptions have you run into about work from home moms?
4. What  sacrifices do you have to make to manage working from home?

 

Mommy Myth Busting Day’s 4&5 Working for the Weekend?

Barking. Saturday morning, I woke up to barking.

At 7:00 am.

I suppose in comparison to the 5:15 am, I’ve been getting up at, this was sleeping in. Kind of. But, I prefer the alarm to barking. thank you. .

Mommy Myth Busting days 4&5 showed me weekends mean something different to me as a working mom.

Typically, I get everything possible,  done during the week. That way,  the weekend is scheduled “down time” with my family.  Of course, I still do laundry and dishes, child keeping (Child keeping. I like it. It sounds much more Martha Stewart-like than saying “nail trimming, backpack checking and homework supervision etc) but that’s the bulk of my weekend “work” as a SAHM.

Not so much, this week.

As a working mom, I spent the weekend playing “catch up.” Vacuuming, loads of laundry, clutter patrol. (I swear stuff, moves on its own. And for some reason it all migrates to the same two places: the kitchen counter and the kitchen table. Maybe it’s some mystical vortex of mothering. I don’t know.)  This topped off other random errands. None of which were fun. We did carve out a few hours Saturday night for a movie and dinner date night.  But honestly?  I was wishing for my jammies and slippers the whole time.

I grocery shopped on Sunday. (I’d rather remove my leg hair with a blow torch- than grocery shop on  Sunday… not really related.. but both are equally painful and necessary.)

I battled the temptation to stay home from church this morning. I wanted to relax. Even the idea of getting everyone ready and out the door was overwhelming.

We didn’t.  I’m glad.  But I’m also: exhausted.

I forgot how much you have to cram into a weekend when you’re working all week.

ugh.

It’s now five minutes to Superbowl time and I’m looking forward to zoning out, while the guys worry about the end zone.. (It counts as family time- right?)

Things that were different this weekend:

I needed to get my nails fixed, but didn’t want to take time away form the guys. I put it off.

The laundry is mocking me and pressuring me.  (Yes, it’s personal.) I will soon, cave to its pressure-(yet again).   If I don’t, it could haunt me as part of the scenery and rogue killers in a post-apocalyptic nightmare, which would have also been inspired by our seeing “The Book Of Eli” on date night.  You know.. Dirty laundry also kind of looks like a pile of Zombies laying in wait to attack. Just sayin.

The grocery store was out of stock of everything but fruit snacks and tampons.  I swear 2 women were about to throw down over the last box of Mac and Cheese.  It’s wasn’t even THE BLUE BOX. It was store brand. Those girls were desperate. (Well, maybe I hallucinated that scene, due to exhaustion. Not sure.)

Things that were not different this weekend:

It was too short.

And that is Mommy Myth Busting Days 4 & 5…

Off to ignore a football game- more soon!

Questions for YOU:

Working moms:

1. What are your weekends like?
2. What do you “let go of” during the week, only to have to do double duty on the weekend?
3. What (home/child keeping) things do you get accomplished during the week?
4. Anything else I need to know?  Tell me girls!.. I’m tired– but listening!

 

Mommy Myth Busting Day 3: I think I can? I think I could!

I woke up before the alarm this morning.   I snuggled deeper under the covers.  Fridays are my “fun day.”  (Fun, here,  is a relative term. It means I run errands, maybe grab lunch by myself or get a coffee at the bookstore and browse. But, I get out of the house- so it’s fun, to me!) I thought I had a few extra minutes before I had to get up.

That is, I thought it was “fun day,” until the alarm clock, rudely reminded me, that I had to get up. I had to go to work today. Ugh. Before I could hit the alarm button, I also remembered that this was: data entry day. On an excel spreadsheet. that was important.

My stomach felt queasy, before my feet hit the floor. Nerves. I was afraid  the universe would implode if I screwed up. I tried to remember what Kathy, my friend and boss-du jour had told me to do.

I blanked.  “Oh well, she wrote it down, I’ll figure it out when I get there.”

Fortunately, getting ready this morning was much smoother than yesterday.

1. No one missed the bus.
2. I didn’t run anything over. (However,  I disappointed Noah, by not taking out any garbage cans.  I assured him, I’d likely hit something, sometime soon.)
3. I actually had time to fold a load of laundry and do the dishes before I left.
4. The beagle  peed on demand!

I was running early. An excellent (and rare) start to the day.

The drive to work was un-eventful.If you don’t count seeing a red bra (inexplicably) lying on the ground at my freeway exit. (Someone’s lookin’ like a fool with her bra on the ground, is all I can say about that.)

I actually was *gasp* a few minutes early! (I took a picture of the clock, as evidence for the doubters, I can hear you mocking me.)

It only took me a few minutes to settle in to my data entry job.  Once I got my bearings, looked at the notes Kathy had left for me, and took a deep breath. I started.

You know what?  I did it! It took me a few hours to enter all the data for four different sites, but I did it! (I think I did it, anyway.  I obsessively double checked each entry and saved the file, so it should still be there on Monday.)  I may have set a new record for world’s slowest data entry, but it’s done.

Data entry, surprised me. I actually kind of liked it. (It was infinitely better than dark-room uniform organizing.) I worked downstairs, in the main office. it was nice to hear office chatter.  And I even got a chance to talk to a few people. (Nice since as a SAHM, I can go for days without interacting face to face, with another adult. But I digress, today I’m a working mom!)

However, I was concentrating and trying (not to wreck the database and thus stop the universe) to do my best- so I didn’t take time to chat. (FYI- it’s a very good thing they’ve gently moved me into tasks. Today?  I’m not sure if I could have answered the phone and done the data entry at the same time. I was thankful every time the phone rang, and I didn’t have to answer it!)

I think I may have committed my first office faux pas. They were ordering pizza.. and I passed. Honestly… I felt shy and a bit intimidated, for lunch with the crew. (Weird, I know. But apparently shyness can strike even me.) And, I was hoping to get home in time to pick up Noah at the bus, so I worked straight through.  I hope I get a chance to go back and hang out at lunch, sometime.

Once finished with the data, I did some filing. Where I was reminded, once again that: HANDWRITING MATTERS. Especially on Driver’s Manifests. Hello, if I can’t read your driver number or the date, it’s kind of hard to: FILE IT, BY THAT. (sorry, a little messy handwriting rant.) As an aside: Driver’s Manifest’s are not the subversive documents that could result in governmental or cultural change, that they sound like. They are (basically) driver’s logs. Where they went and when.  They are important. But still. Not revolutionary.

Filing went well, until I dropped a pile of papers. I panicked, slightly, like a second grader who knocks over a chair.   For a moment, I wondered if I broke them. (Umm yeah. I’m keeping it real here… I seriously wondered if I wrecked the pile by dropping it.)

I picked them up and put them back in order. Duh. They are paper. They weren’t broken or wrecked.  It took me a few extra minutes to fix my mistake, but, that was it.

And then. I finished! Early!  I was glad to meet the bus today. I had no idea how hard that time between 4 and quitting time is for working mom’s. I call it the 4:00 pm effect. Worry distracted me. I worried a lot. I worried whether his big brother met him at the bus. (He didn’t, he forgot. Noah walked home just fine. He sometimes does if I don’t make it to the stop.) I worried whether he had a good day at school. I worried whether needed me and I worried if he had a snack. Yeah. A lot. Also-very quickly. I finished work around 4:45, yesterday!

I learned some things that surprised me this week:

1. If I had to work, I could. (I’ve been a little a lot, afraid that maybe I couldn’t cut it, even if I desperately had to.) This week has not been easy. We’d have to make a lot of changes at home if I worked. But, I did it. And I could. Just like the millions of moms who do it every week. Each one with her unique set of challenges. (I have 3 kids, 3 schedules and a traveling husband.)
2. I’ve always thought I had a problem with being told what to do. I discovered this week, that it’s more that I hate, not knowing what to do and needing to be told. I’d rather anticipate needs a need and meet it. I could not do that this week. I had no idea what needed to be done. I needed direction. It was uncomfortable.  But over time, I think that would improve as I caught on. (And didn’t have to be led around like a trained pony.)
3. I appreciate more and understand better, how my husband feels about work. (It didn’t cross my mind that this experiment would lead here.) Even doing things as simple and benign as I did this week, it’s hard to “turn it off” at quitting time.  (Something I get mad at him for all the time.) Also: if I worked outside the home, and he continued to travel as he does (He’s gone about 3-5 days a week and is usually in a different time zone.) it would be hard to talk on the phone, let alone see each other. I missed him. (If my tubes weren’t tied, I’d say it would, however, save us a fortune in birth control… but that’s TMI, Funny, but still: TMI.)
4. My house is still standing, even though I went to work.  True, I didn’t do everything. But I got done what needed to get done. Working helped me prioritize my tasks.
5. I could see both pluses and minuses for my kids if I worked.  They would need to be more independent. I believe they would rise to the occasion, as they did (for the most part) this week.
6. A few posts back- I used the word “day dreaming” about what working would be like. I realized this week, that more than day-dreaming, I’ve  been missing things from when I used to work. (Before kids.) Maybe I’ve romanticized the memory a bit, but it’s there, and some part of me, misses it.
7. Bonus Round: If you work straight through, without stopping for a potty break and text and drive on the way home, you could have an accident (of the soggy type) if a police car speeds up behind you with it’s lights flashing.  You might also throw your very expensive iPhone in the backseat to try and hide the fact that you were texting. You will be very relieved if they drive right past you once you’ve pulled over.

The drive home was slightly more dramatic than the drive in. oopsy.

Now- I have some questions for you! There is no way, I can really understand what it’s like for you, by working for a few days.  You’d really help me, and mom’s everywhere- if you’d answer!

please: email, comment, facebook message, or tweet me to tell me your answers!

Working moms:

1) Does the schedule thing smooth out at all once you’ve established a routine?  (Well, as routine as life ever gets with kids.) I had a hard time this week, and I’m wondering if it would get (somewhat) easier as you (and your people, big and small) adjust.

2) Tell me what you enjoy about working! I like the: interaction, challenge and the occasional pat on the back. If I were being paid, I’d have liked that, too.

3) Tell me what you hate about working! (I hated : not being there when my kids got home, being on someone else’s time schedule and working in a dark closet sorting uniforms…)

4) One of the things I think would help our mothering community is if respected each other more. I think we’d do that, if we understood each other’s sacrifices.

5) What sacrifices do you make as a working mom, and why? (for example-I sacrificed: time to myself, time to write, energy, time with my kids/my husband, some order in my house, being there for the bus stop :(and vulnerability- i’ve been pretty honest here, that’s a risk- risk is a sacrifice.)

Why?  Right now? For this project. Because I believe that we are better together.  I believe that by understanding and connecting with mom’s who are different from me, (and similar) my perspective changes and I learn.  You can make me a better mother, and I just might help you, too.

Working Mom Myths are just some of the Mommy Myths I want to bust!

If I were to continue working, I’d do so to provide my family with things that they need, (hello- next year, I’ll have 2 in college, ca-ching! This is a pertinent conversation, for us! ) Or to fulfill a calling that God has on my life. (The truth is, as I’m writing and speaking more and more, I’m am becoming less SAHM and more Work From Home Mom.)

Now- it’s your turn–working moms of the world…

TELL ME what you want me to understand!

One rule-  My blog is a place for all mom’s. I won’t allow a war to break out and mommy-bashing to begin. This rule holds for the duration… just sayin. The goal is to understand, not to argue who’s right or wrong.  Or, what’s harder or easier. Those arguments divide us. They weaken (I posit they could destroy) the mothering community.

In 20 years of mothering, and working with hundreds of moms through MOPS International- I can assure you of this: Being a mom (of any kind) is hard.  We each have a unique set of challenges, different, but equally difficult. And we cannot mother alone. We need each other.

 

Mommy Myth Busting Day 2: Huffing sharpies in a closet- or how to get high accidently, at work

When the high schooler missed his bus, I thought:  “I have it under control.” That was the last time I thought that, today.

I asked the college boy to drive him to school before he left for his 8:30 class.  When High Schooler then, couldn’t find his house-key, I gave him mine. Thinking:  “He’ll be home before me, anyway.” I jumped in the shower, dressed and considered snorting a packet of Starbucks Via, before work.  I refrained, just incase I had to pass a drug test.

The youngest was less than cooperative, this morning. Of course. Between coaxing him to eat and a last-minute lunch change to bringing lunch  (ugh.)  and trying to get my hair dry, I must have lost track of time. I grabbed my keys  had Noah zip his coat in the car and tried to catch the bus.  I thoroughly impressed Noah by knocking over all 4 garbage cans at once as I pulled out of the driveway. (FYI you don’t save time by not clearing the rear window. Picking up garbage: wastes time. )

We didn’t make it.

“I don’t have time for this.” I thought. I decided to save time by not heading home for my purse or phone before taking him to school.  All was fine until I got home and (after picking up the garbage from the street while skating on ice in heels) remembered I’d given my high school son my house key. Epic fail. Locked out.  Garage door opener is acting weird and the keypad won’t work unless it’s above freezing.

It was not above freezing.

I felt defeated.  The wind I’d had in my sails (or maybe it was the coffee I’d sucked down in a rush) whooooshed out in a huff, as tears welled up in my eyes. (Bad mixed metaphor I’m too tired to fix- sorry:P) I was not finished getting ready and the dogs needed to go out before I left for the day.

I didn’t have my purse,  my cell phone or my house key.  My husband is out-of-state.

I could:

1) Break in

2) Break down

To be honest, breaking down was sounding pretty good. As a SAHM, part of me has always been afraid, that even if I absolutely had to work… I couldn’t cut it.  Here I was failing, on Day 2.

“Get a grip. Don’t panic! You can do this!” I told myself, really hoping the neighbors didn’t hear. (Unless they had a key. Which, they don’t.)   I walked around back, to check the patio door. To see if it was locked.  Just in case.

It wasn’t. Typically, I’d have been furious that the house was left un-locked.  Today, I was thankful.

I pushed past the barking like crazy dogs, and finished getting ready.  The clock kept ticking.

9:07 “I should make it if I leave now.”  I thought.

Then, remembered the dogs would need to go out before I left. “Ugh.”

I stood there, tapping my foot like the pee-pee nazi and the beagle refused to go.

Tick toc. 9:08 Getting late!

Explaining that I was late on my second day of work because: “I was waiting for my beagle to pee.” Just didn’t sound professional.  I brought her in and decided I’d have to risk the mess.

9:27 I pulled into work. Made it. Score!

By 9:45 I met todays task: Organize the Reliable Delivery Dungeon. I mean, the uniform closet. By light of a single, flickering florescent bulb, (good thing I don’t have epilepsy, that strobe effect could have been bad.)

I sorted, took inventory of and hung up a bazillion uniform shirts, jackets, coats and hats. (On nice plastic hangers as Holly, my boss of the moment, made clear the expectation: “No wire hangers!” ) Not in the mood for a beating..(movie reference, sorry)  I complied. ;)

In other words: I counted and put away laundry, all morning.

To be honest, standing alone in that dark closet,I felt a few tears well up. Maybe it was  the emotion of the whole morning rush, or maybe, it was *Sharpie fumes.. but I think it was my disappointment.  This was not what I had in mind. Forget the day-dream of what working might be like.  This was a nightmare.  I wondered if this job had been especially created for me because, you know..  I’m a SAHM, maybe all I’m really capable of is laundry…

Which is when, I remembered the world doesn’t revolve around me. (Funny how I usually think it does.) This was my job for the day, and I was going to do my best at it.  I’d asked to be put through the paces as a working mom, and this was it. So,(for the second time today) I got a grip, then, got down to work.

I finished after a couple of hours. And then, enjoyed throwing the empty boxes over the rail to the floor below. (Hey- it was a highlight of the day.  They made a loverly PLOP on the cement!)

I spent the afternoon: filing, compiling and shuffling, super- top -secret -spy -documents. I’d tell you what they were, but would hate to have to kill you, afterward. (Besides, I’m way too tired.) Ok, so I filed paperwork. Hey! My first promotion! Sweet!  So much better than the dungeon.

As a former homeschool mom, my ABC skillz are par. However— the drivers at Reliable Delivery have  Driver-numbers that most things are filed by. I managed to recall the number system (I feared I’d blocked it along with algebra.) and completed that task as well. (I was a filing maniac!  I rocked the cabinet! With the exception of a small paper-cut  and twice losing the same key to the Truck Driver Records Cabinet…(No clue why that’s in caps.. but since it is a  special- locked filing cabinet -I have no idea why- it just seemed fitting.) it was fairly drama-free. Score another task done for me!

Next, I was introduced to a new hot new friend. He is big and burly and built and has more copy/collate/hole punching skillz than I could ever hope to have. His name is: Mr Minolta Copier.   I know he was was hot- because about that time, I started to feel sweat drip down my back. It only took me 2 tries to figure out how to get Mr Minolta to do his copy, sort, hole -punch magic.  (sorry about letters A and B Kathy.. I had to do them twice.. oopsy) Mr Minolta and I then made 3 copies of the next The New York Times #1 Bestseller. It’s an incredible book… I felt like a ancient scribe..recording history for posterity.

Except I didn’t, and it wasn’t. It was: “The Supply Chain Logistics Terms And Glossary.” Quite possibly, the most boring book I’ve ever seen.

See?  This boring.

And so completed my second day as a working mom.

Or did it?  Because it is currently 7:24 and dinner is still in the oven.   I am still trying to capture the experience in words and I only very recently, finished cleaning the shorkie puddle I found in my bedroom. On the carpet.  With my foot. When I got home. (Hmm I sense a theme… or maybe I sense that  someone would have to be crated, if I went to work every day.)

I am: tired. I just realized I didn’t eat all day, nor stop for a bathroom break, and I am so thirsty I am tempted to drink straight from the faucet. Umm better pace myself. Tomorrow, I’ll eat lunch like a human and drink water when I need to.

FYI: I am convinced, that if I had to inventory and organize uniforms alone, in the dark, for 8 hours a day, I would poke my own eyes out with a sharpie to escape. (Just sayin.. Not a job I would choose…)

And thats what happens on Day 2 of a SAHM becoming a working mom….

Wonder what tomorrow will be like?

Tomorrow I will be working in my friend Kathy’s office. Doing data entry. I am trying not to hyper ventilate over the idea of mucking up the computer system and the universe coming to an end. I’m pretty sure it could. Or not.

I guess we’ll see— tomorrow!

side note: I have spoken to my husband for about 13 minutes total, since Monday. He’s been in California, and now Milwaukee. Between my being busy and the time difference and my schedule.. it’s been rough. If I worked like this every week and he continued to travel.. it would be hard to remember each others voices, let alone faces. UGH.

Dear Lord.. I pray that you’d use these moments to help me learn what it’s like for other moms, and to communicate it well…. I really believe we need each other.. together we could make a better world… amen

*sharpie fumes… yes…but no actual accidental (or purposeful) getting high in the uniform closet… sorry but it was just too funny a line not to use it… :P

 

Mommy Myth Busting: What’s it like to be a working mom?

Tiring.  That’s what it’s like. I was up at 5:15 to get the high-schooler out the door, and allow time for the caffeine to kick in before waking up the youngest. (A necessity. Must have caffeine, to deal with Noah.)  This is a pretty standard morning for me, when my husband travels. (Which he does, regularly. Gone 3-5 days a week is pretty typical.) Not much change there.

However- I’m not usually out the dressed, out the door and arriving anywhere by 10:00 a.m. I’m more likely: checking my email, running the  dishwasher and a load of laundry while still in my jammies, at 10:00 a.m.

Interesting things I’ve noticed on Day One:

1) As a Working mom time is as much a pressure as the demands/needs of my children. I yelled this more than a few times this morning:

“Hurry up Noah, you have to make the bus, I don’t have time to drive you to school!” Typically I’d be more relaxed about time. I can drive him if he misses the bus.

2) As a Working Mom, my cell phone chime holds a whole different meaning.  At home,  I usually assume it’s my husband, or some random text.  At work, I was afraid it was the school with an emergency.

3) Prioritizing became paramount as I headed off to work this morning. I could not do everything.  Some things didn’t get done.  There is a load of clean laundry unfolded in my bedroom.  I ran out of time. (Hopefully, I’ll remember to fold it and put it away before the bad cat decides to make it “her own.” ) I did however get dinner into the crock-pot so we will have food. ;)

4) As a working mom, I have to trust my kids more with their responsibilities, instead of my standard “reminding” (read: nagging) Such as, I had arranged for my college boy to pick up the youngest at the bus.  I had to trust that he would. He’s a responsible kid, but I’m used to reminding him.   I also had to trust that they wouldn’t kill each other in the process.

5) As a working mom I would have to make some pretty drastic changes to the way tasks are accomplished at home. Divide and conquer comes to mind…

It would need to be divided.. or I would be conquered.  For sure.

So, how was my first day as a working mom?  Good. Busy. Not exactly as fun or chatty as I would have thought. But it was nice to be around other adults for a change.  I did get to wear pants, which was nice.  But, I missed my slippers and am looking forward to taking off my bra. (The novelty of wearing heels, wore off pretty fast and a real bra to contain the girls is just not exactly comfortable. I’d rather wear my comfy but not safe for work, at home sports bra, thank you very much. )

Was it fulfilling? Well, I’m not exactly passionate about paperwork. (Well, I passionately HATE paperwork, does that count?) I am also afraid of the IRS in general (we were organizing paperwork for an upcoming audit) so I wouldn’t exactly call it fulfilling.

More like: scary (ish) boring and time filling.

The ride to work..well… after much debate, I had my husband leave my truck at the airport and I have his car for the week. Unfortunately, I woke up to 2 inches of snow.  Massive vehicle choice fail.  Let’s just say driving his car in the snow, is a little more like a high-speed ice derby, than I prefer. (Especially when I’m trying to get to work on time!)

*There were no unicorns and the only poop I saw was not in rainbow form.  (Can’t people clean up after their dogs? Like my people? Just sayin.)

(*see yesterdays related daydreaming of work, post)

I can’t wait to see what tomorrow’s like… I will have a different “boss” tomorrow… and college boy has classes so we’ll have to come up with a different game plan for the afternoon shuffle….

See you then!