The sun hasn’t risen yet. I’m awake, making breakfast for my team. Nothing starts the workday off on the right foot like a hot, healthy breakfast.
After breakfast, it’s a packed schedule. First, I’m going to catch up on the company emails. I’ll reread them a million times until I pretty much have them memorized. Then, I’ll rush out of the office to go meet with clients. I’ll put on my best happy face, and smile, compliment, and basically bend over backwards to cater to their every whim, their every need.
Then back to the office to prepare for lunch.
After lunch is prepped, eaten, and cleaned up, it’s time for professional development. We will go over strengths and weaknesses, using a strategic, engaging, and fun curriculum that I have put together during lunch. Then, it’s an hour of flexible time, where I can prep for the next day, take care of some blog posts, catch up on some more reading, and start prepping for the company dinner. Today is going to be a long day, and I’m going to have to ask my team to stay late.
Next up is the afternoon reading of emails, again, multiple times until I can recite them. Then, I finish prepping for the dinner. Dinner is served, eaten, and cleaned up. It’s now time for the final push. This involves dealing with disgruntled team members, convincing them that even though it’s been a long day, it’s been productive, and reminding them of all the positives and things for which we are grateful. Finally, they go home, I clean the office. It’s time to go home, catch up on a few hours of rest, and prepare to repeat tomorrow.
Except, I don’t actually go to an office. And I don’t actually have employees. Yet, this is my life, day in, day out. My daughter and the baby in my belly comprise my team. The emails are the millions of children’s books I read each day. The clients are the various playgroups and activities I make sure to lug my daughter to. The flexible time is the brief nap. The disgruntled team is my overly tired toddler. You see, I’m a SAHM (Stay at Home Mom), or as it should really be referred to, CEO of All Things.
When I meet someone new, I’m ashamed to tell them that I’m a stay at home mom. I know they will automatically judge me. Oh, she couldn’t hack it in the real world. Or, she is so lucky that her husband makes a ton of money so she can stay home with the babies.
Neither of those is true. And when I see the look on his/her face, I know which line of thought is going through his/her mind. My instinct for thought process #1 is to nip it in the bud, quickly explain my educational background, my prior employment, the fact that we just moved, my intent to go back to work as soon as possible, my gripes on the price of daycare. My instinct for thought process #2 is to laugh, become secretly sad that it’s NOT true, and try to explain that money is a struggle, that we are on a very tight budget, and that I feel guilty every single day, even when I’m purchasing necessities like food and diapers.
I feel ashamed because I do have a lot of education under my belt. The other day, I was at an event where I met other women who had children, were on the 40 under 40 list, were juggling extremely successful careers and leading amazing volunteer work through various nonprofits. Multiple nonprofits. And all I could think about was what a failure I am.
Where do they find the time? How did they rise to the top? What did they do differently? What happened to my goals? Is it too late for me?
I walk this thin line of signing up for a million different things, hoping I can make a difference–make a positive mark on the world, and realizing that I am utterly exhausted, mentally incapacitated, and trapped by the fact that I can’t afford daycare and don’t have any family within ten hours.
It’s tough. Part of me wants to be a good role model for my daughter. Be the successful working mom she can look up to and be proud of. Help contribute financially to my family so we can do more cultural activities and attend more fun events. The other part of me wants to be the one who is home to raise my daughter. Teach her words, numbers, colors, make sure she has healthy meals, make sure she has plenty of exercise, make sure she’s learning manners and not bullying or being bullied. Give her hugs and witness her “firsts.”
I’m constantly tired, yet at the end of the day I try to figure out what it was exactly that I achieved. Even with constant vacuuming and cleaning, the house still looks like a disaster. There are always dishes in the sink. I usually manage to make a healthy breakfast and dinner, but I’ll admit, lunch typically baffles me. If I’m lucky I can educate my own mind for a minute or two at breakfast, where I try to devour something from “The New Yorker” so I don’t feel entirely vapid when I recite the ABC’s for the fortieth time. I volunteer at least twice a month at night. I run two intellectual “clubs” aimed towards allowing moms to purport to be adults for a few hours a month. I have become a grocery store connoisseur, penny pinching my way through at least three different stores a week. I try to listen to Podcasts that make me think whenever I’m in the car. But, is it enough? Is there enough of me left when it’s all said and done?
Sometimes yes. Sometimes no. Do I envy my friends without kids? No. Do I sometimes miss feeling productive? Absolutely. You see, the progress I make each day with my daughter isn’t always noticeable. And there’s definitely no gold star. The fact that I’m not currently contributing financially weighs on my soul. And the shame I feel that I should be able to do it all, balance it all, find a way, make it happen, move the sun, the moon, and the stars, and do it with a huge smile on my face is tough to deal with. Because there are people out there who make it look easy. And comparison is tough.
