I have plenty of opinions about the drawbacks of being a working mom.
Throughout the years, I’ve missed out on times with the kids. I missed out on the bedtime routine when they were babies. I have been late to school performances, and baseball games during the elementary school years. I haven’t accompanied my kids to swim practices every single summer. Until recently, I have been unable to host playdates. To sum it up, I have had my share of mom guilt.
But, since I am a woman of many talents,
I also have opinions about why I should be a working mom.
Of course, there are the usual, practical reasons for working. The income, the example it sets for my kids, and the fact that I can keep my identity as a career woman. Lately, and especially during the summer, chief among my reasons for working: working allows me to keep the worry lines to a minimum. My vanity is at stake here.
My theory is,
If I work, I won’t frown at my son and his friends playing WWF in the pool. I won’t have to outlaw choking and trying to drown each other either.
If I work, I won’t furrow my brow when I pass by the kids’ bathroom. In my mind, I won’t see the remnants of a storm that has recently blown through. I won’t take note of the towels and swimsuits on the floor. I don’t know the toothpaste sits without the cap on, and the still damp, and likely soapy washcloth is in a ball on the bathroom counter.
If I work, I won’t cock my head slightly to the side as I witness melancholy in my daughter and try to step in to make it better.
If I work, I won’t wrinkle my nose at the dog licking herself while on my bed and then rubbing her face on the carpet at any given moment.
If I work, I’ll never know that my kids chose cookies for lunch, instead of making themselves a sandwich and fruit. I won’t stand with my hand on my hip saying, “really?”
If I work, I won’t raise my eyebrows during my Fortnite nightmares.
If I work, I won’t have a blank expression as I hear about every ache and pain my son is feeling as he is growing. Additionally, I won’t question if growing pains exist.
If I work, I won’t have my turn at rolling my eyes as I hear cries of boredom, despite the availability of their imaginations.
If I work, I’ll wear a grin when I come home and wrestle hugs from my two growing kids.
Walking in the front door will be the sweetest part of my day!
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