Working Girl

Ok, that title sounded better in my head than it looks in writing. Oh well...it's official. I've decided to go back to work. And, I'm ashamed to admit, I'm excited.

I'm guessing most mothers will nod their heads in understanding when I say that...but for those of you whose gut response is, "You shouldn't be ashamed! You've earned the right to work if you want to!" I'll try to explain.

When I was pregnant, I thought I'd probably stay home with our baby until she was at least two years old. It was a random number, and I didn't have any hard-and-fast rule, but that sounded like a reasonable length of time to give her a sense of security and stability (not like I had any idea what I was talking about at that point, or how I'd feel later).

About six months after she was born (probably even sooner), I started going a little stir-crazy. This would seem completely logical to any sane person -- after all, I'd been in the workforce since I was at least 14 years old (ahhh, those were the days, when my biggest responsibilities were shaving chocolate and capping strawberries for pies at Baker's Square).  I'd been earning a paycheck for nearly two-thirds of my life. Still, my feelings surprised me. I had expected that since I was nearly 40 when I'd had my daughter, I'd truly enjoy being a stay-at-home-mom. I'd enjoy the change of pace...at least for awhile.

I can safely say that I had no idea what I was in for...being a stay-at-home-mom is exhausting!!! 

In the past, it would be typical for me to work hard 15-hour days with no breaks, eating lunch at my desk (if I remembered), often taking calls even after I got home and working weekends. I'd frequently leave home at 5:30am and get home after 9pm, completely screwing up my eating schedule (and metabolism) and only getting to the gym a few times a week (if that). I figured that with a kid, at least I'd get a break once in awhile when she napped, or played. Wrong. (At ten months, she's just now started to play on her own, or with the furkids, for a few minutes...and she still sleeps on me 99% of the time, waking up and screaming if I try to put her in her crib.) The work is never done. Every time you pick up a room, clean the kitchen, or do the laundry, it just gets messy and you have to do it all over again. Forget about the gym, I'm lucky if I get a shower. Talk about exhausting!


Two years hadn't seemed all that long before our daughter was born. Now it seems like an eternity.

Before I go any further, let me state clearly that I absolutely adore our daughter. She truly is the light and love of my life. Her laugh doesn't just make my day, it touches me so dearly that sometimes she brings tears of joy to my eyes -- I can't believe I'm so lucky. Plus, she's the first person I've known who was related to me biologically, so this bond with her is extra-special and unique -- I can't imagine not having her in my life. (Someday she's going to read this and think, "Oh god, Mom, you're so dramatic!") She constantly amazes me...

...and she also drives me just a little bit (more) insane.

So, if I'm truly honest with myself, then I have to accept the fact that I'm just not cut out to be a stay-at-home-mom. Not right now, at least (as I'm beginning to learn, never say "never"). I've always admired stay-at-home-moms who do it, and do it well -- they always seem to be taking the kid(s) to playdates, involved in their communities, busy and happy with their new lives. I'd hoped (truly, believed) that I'd be among them. Unfortunately, I've had to admit that I am not.

I need to go back to work (something other than taking care of our daughter) for my own sanity. I want to contribute to my family financially, have my own income and not feel dependent on anyone else. I also need a break. As my husband said the other day, "If you ate macaroni & cheese 24 hours a day, seven days a week, eventually you'd want something else once in awhile...no matter how much you love macaroni & cheese. It's completely natural."

Initially, I thought my attitude was just the PPD. But then out of the blue a few weeks ago, I got a call about a job possibility, and I could feel myself start to perk up. I began to look forward to the opportunity to work again (and the job was in finance! all this time, I'd been thinking that when I returned to work it would be related to theatre or music...). So when that company ultimately changed their mind and decided they weren't going to hire anyone after all, I started thinking hard about whether I wanted to go back to work and what would make it worth it for me to leave our daughter with a nanny. I realized it was time for me to return to the (paying) workforce...but on my terms.

My ideal job would be working part-time, from home, making enough to maximize our savings -- including our daughter's education fund -- and give us a little breathing room financially. I was tired of my husband shouldering all the burden for our family's financial stability, though (much to his credit) he never once complained, but rather allowed me the freedom to come to this decision on my own. Thankfully, my experience and skillset give me the opportunity to do just that. I knew telecommuting was a relatively common practice in my field...as long as I could find a firm that was hiring. I started sending out resumes and networking in earnest. To my surprise, within a couple of weeks I found a few interesting possibilities that met my criteria.

Over the past two weeks, there have been a whirlwind of phone interviews: New York; London; Washington, DC; Moscow...and I'm expecting another next week from Kazakhstan, of all places. Believe it or not, I may actually have a shot at getting more than one offer (fingers crossed)! It's exciting to be thinking again, about more than what to cook for dinner, or whether I have time to do a load of laundry. I feel smart again, being able to complete entire sentences that don't include the words "Mama" or "change your dipey." It's nice to be reminded that I'm good at what I do.

So now, the search for a nanny has begun in earnest. More on that another day...