Working Mom 1

Tears rolled down his cheeks, his sad eyes pleading with me to stay. His little voice quivered when he begged, “A hug, Mommy” while his preschool teacher tried to restrain him. I squatted down. He latched his tiny fingers around my neck and wrapped his feet around my waist, willing me to stay. I tried to quietly plead with him as our eyes meet but I realized it’s going to have to be like ripping a band-aid off.

Then I loudly said, “You have to be a big boy now. Mommy has to get to work. I love you!”

I said it loudly because the teachers are watching and I felt like a horrible mom. I wanted to make sure they overheard that I have a place to be, that I have to work. I’m not just dropping my son off in a puddle of tears and screams because I want to. I have to.

I feel like I can’t just say, “I’m a mom” without the disclaimer, “I’m a working mom.”

It’s a scene that has repeated itself over and again. Like when I only have an hour to volunteer at the school. I rush in and read a book to the kids, hug my daughter and declare that my lunch break is over and I have to get back to work. I want to be that mom whose name I see on every PTO form and daily on the volunteer log. She is praised for her involvement and love for her children. I feel like the teachers need to know I would be there more if I could.

Or when the kids are eating popcorn chicken while we rush through the grocery store. I am juggling dinner and shopping because I have to get to a work event that evening. I imagine eyes on me, judging my choice of meals for the kids, judging my haste and my hurry. Did the cashier just roll her eyes at me? When she hands my kids a sticker, I wish she would hand me one too. “Working Mom,” it would say. I would wear it like a nametag, like a statement of my identity.

I justify my choices about the way I spend my time by labeling myself like there is a hierarchy of motherhood...

If you've ever wondered if you're enough for your family, if you've carried guilt about the choices you have to make - this one's for you. I'm over at SheLoves magazine today talking about the labels we carry in motherhood and learning to love this life more.