Since I’m such a goddamn perfectionist, while also managing to be one of the laziest goddamn people I know, I knew motherhood would be…difficult for me. I figure what better way to deal with my mental anguish at not being the perfect Lorelai Gilmore-perfect mother (I realize that June Cleaver is the usual reference here, but she’s become Stepford-wife creepy in my brain, so no thanks) than by documenting all the things I beat myself up over, and posting them to the internet. No way this can go wrong. Nope. No way. No how.
When I went back to work – when the girls were seven weeks and six days old – everyone was so worried about me. How are you doing? Was it so hard to leave them? Did you cry? Were you upset? How did you get through the day? But honestly, for me, leaving them to go into the office for the day was – dare I say it? – easy. I knew they were with my mom, who is amazing and awesome with them. I was ready to leave the house – as much as I love and adore my little demon baby children, I was craving adult tasks and conversations and all that jazz. I NEEDED to get out of the house, and I knew that my babies were safe and taken care of and would be there when I got home. Plus I’m only working in the office 3 days a week, so I’m home with them more often that I’m not.
But that lack of guilt led to me questioning myself and a whole new subset of guilt – am I wrong for wanting to get out of the house and – effectively – away from my babies? Shouldn’t I be a puddle of teary messiness, worrying about what my babies are doing in my absence and fussing over whether or not they’re forgetting my face / voice / scent / whatever? Do I win the Worst Mother of All Time Award for being so incredibly blase about walking out the door while my babies slept in their boppys?
This is how it went in my mind – I need to work to make money for my babies, and to earn their health insurance (BB’s job currently doesn’t offer benefits – it’s something they’re discussing for the future, but not currently). We can’t do without my salary and my benefits, so I have to work, and we’re incredibly lucky that I’m able to work from home AT ALL (I’ll discuss that more another day, because I have A LOT of feelings about it) so leaving them three days a week allows me to take care of them on a practical / financial level as well as regain my sanity so I can take care of them more effectively when I’m home. So. BAM. Practicality for the win. Even when I’m feeling worried that I’m having the wrong feelings about motherhood and working and WORKING MOTHERHOOD, I know that I’m making the right – practical, financial – decision for my babies and my family and that reminds me why I don’t feel guilty about my choices.