So, I know the title seems a bit weird and confusing. Well the gist of things is this; I miss work. I'm five weeks into my maternity leave and I miss my job. Now I read a lot of different mommy blogs and I have quite a few mommy friends on Facebook. All too often I see and read the posts about the war between stay at home moms and working moms. All too often I see this word guilt threaded throughout the discussions and debates. There is so much dialogue surrounding the guilt working mothers feel about the time they spend away from their darling children. Stay at home moms often discuss the desire to have something for themselves outside the home and the guilt they feel surrounding that desire. I have yet to see any dialogue for the third perspective in this little drama and that is of the woman that feels no guilt. Let me explain.
I love being a mom. I wouldn't trade my new role for anything in the world. I wear my mommy hat proudly. I envision myself to be a mixture of Claire Huxtable and Roseanne Arnold. Claire was always so polished and captivating. She had the career and the I can't believe you have children body. I loved her disciplining style because she never raised her voice or exhibited frustration. Roseanne's house was always a mess. She always had some crafty and unconventional way of disciplining the children that made for a good laugh. Well, I'm not always polished but I endeavour to be. I think I'm captivating and so far I'm doing well with the whole frustration and raising of the voice thing. My house is always a mess; I take pride in this mess. The kiddies are two and under so I have some time to develop my crafty disciplining skills. I say all this to say that I take my mommy role seriously and, although I don't love every minute of it, I couldn't imagine my life any other way. But being a mommy isn't enough for me and I don't have guilt over this.
I used to think I wanted to be a stay at home mom until I had my first child. The entire time I was on maternity leave I missed work. Upon returning to work I didn't experience that gaping hole every one warned me of in which I would miss my child all day and hate the fact that I was back at work. The opposite happened. I quickly jumped back into the swing of things and found myself delving more into my work. I leave every morning glad to go to work and I don't feel guilty about it. Work fulfills something in me that I don't quite understand yet but I know that fulfillment allows me to be an even better mom. I have an extra joy because of it and I shower that joy on my family.
It took other moms probing and judging to make me question if something was wrong with me. Why don't I have that guilt that I read about of other working mothers? Then I began to question every decision and action I made since I learned I would be a mom. Why didn't I get that hysterical crying fit that pregnant women speak of? Why didn't I cry the first time I held my son and where was the overwhelming rush of love that was supposed to sweep over me? Why was I able to go on a date night with the husband six weeks after my son's birth and not have separation anxiety? Many would say I'm broken. They'd question my sanity and call me a cold and emotionless monster. Something has to be wrong because no mother should feel this way.
Much like a teenager learning to be confident in her own skin I had to learn to be secure in who I am as a mother. I had to learn that the only rule, or ingredient shall I say, to being a good mother is to love my children as Christ loved me. I also began to remember something from my marriage counseling. The priest explained to us the importance of keeping each other happy and how through our happiness our children would be happy. Of course he was speaking about the marriage but I realised this applies to the individual as well. In order for me to give joy I must possess joy. You can't give what you don't have. I understand that at this point in my life working builds me up and makes me happy. Knowing this, I walk boldly and proudly as a mom and I rest peacefully at night. No guilt at all.
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