For My Mama, On Her Birthday

As I think I've mentioned already, before having Eden I was never really sure that I wanted to be a stay-at-home-mom. I wasn't much of a "kid" person growing up - I didn't like to babysit or even hold babies. I was (and am!) pretty terrible at all the "Suzie Homemaker" type activities: cooking, cleaning, whatever. I figured I'd always probably work part-time at least.

Then I had Eden and suddenly my career was about as interesting and stimulating as filling out forms at the DMV. I just wanted to be able to be home with her, to spend as much time with her as possible. I wanted to ensure that she was getting the best care and life experience possible. And I figured, who better to give her that than me? Who would ever be more motivated and committed?

And now, except for 10 hours a week, I am a stay-at-home-mom. And I think it was the right decision for me and for us. I don't have any desire to go back to full-time work or even to work a single hour more than I do now. I believe that every family is different, and I HATE all the judgment that flies back and forth between stay-at-home-moms and working moms (or you know, between a few individuals within both of those groups), but personally, I'm confident that I'm exactly where I should be.

However.

The transition to this new role has been surprisingly difficult at times. Even though I love it. Even though I'm confident of my choice.

While I was never ambitious or interested in climbing any sort of career ladder (I would happily stay a Librarian I forever, I think), I've always been a bit of an "achiever" personality-wise. Okay, fine. An "over-achiever" at times. Occasionally. My whole life. I was a model student, and I think for the most part (hopefully I'm not getting too big for my britches here), I was a model employee. I get immense satisfaction out of a job well done - out of a sense of accomplishment. Every good grade, successful interview, positive job evaluation, and promotion was an emotional boost - another brick in the foundation of my sense of self-worth.

But, as it turns out, there are no grades, interviews, job evaluations or promotions as a stay-at-home-mom. There's not even a paycheck. (And a paycheck, I've discovered, is a surprisingly validating thing. It's a very tangible indicator of accomplishment. "I earned this. And with this, we bought X, Y, and Z. This is what I contribute to this family. Etc.")

And the work is HARD. It requires infinite amounts of patience and self-control. (And let me tell you, working with public library patrons is not always a walk in the park. But still, not nearly as hard - at least to me.) It's often demanding and tedious and there are no allowances made for illness or lack of sleep. You always have to be "on" - and the regret that comes with the moments where you fail, where you snap at your child or don't prevent some accident that you could have prevented if you had been paying full attention, stings far worse than any botched patron interaction.

But lately it's been that lack of a sense of accomplishment that has been the hardest for me to adjust to. Every finished project is immediately undone again. Fifteen minutes after washing the dishes, dirty dishes appear in the sink. At the end of a long day of laundry, dirty clothes fill our hampers. Toys must be picked up and put away and picked up and put away and picked up and put away. I always feel slightly behind because these tasks, by their very nature, can never be fully accomplished. They are generally not stimulating and they do not require a degree to validate their worth. While librarian is not a flashy job, it still inspires interest and questions at social interactions. Stay-at-home-mom does not. And it's not because people are rude - because really, what are they supposed to say? "Oh, you clean and carpool and cook and sing the ABC's 15 times a day? How interesting! Please, tell me more about how hard it is to adjust the straps on that car seat. You cleaned up that entire diaper explosion using only two baby wipes - that is some serious skill! So what exactly are the lyrics to the second verse of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star? I've always wanted to know..."

You get the point.

Philosophically, I know that I am accomplishing something. I know that what I'm doing has worth. But it's measured in a completely different way, and I miss all the attaboys and slaps-on-the-back and other affirmations that came with a career.

I've been thinking about this a lot this week. And I've been thinking about my mom too.

My mom is the hardest working person I know. She always was up working before we awoke in the morning and she was still working when we went to bed at night. She did all of the cooking and cleaning and shopping and errands and fixing of this and solving of that. We almost never ate take-out. Our house and clothes were always clean. We always had whatever we needed - even if it was something that we HAD TO HAVE for the next day of school that we didn't bother to tell her about until bedtime the night before. She did all of this even when necessity (aka our private schooling) required that she also take on a full-time job. And in exchange we took her completely for granted. We called her at work to whine that so-and-so took a toy and wouldn't give it back. We complained about being dragged to the grocery store and then made complained more about what she fixed for dinner. We expected her to help us with anything we needed help with at whatever moment we needed help. We left our dirty dishes in the sink and marched off to play games or read a book.

It never crossed our minds to wonder if she was happy or would maybe like to read a book herself. We never considered whether she had more to offer the world than folding our socks or wiping our noses. She was mom - that's what she did. That's what she always did.

Dear Mom,

Thank you for serving us day in and day out. Thank you for all that time you spent making that Halloween costume that I then refused to wear the night of Halloween. Thank you for inventing an ingenious way to make me think I was "safe" from snakes. Thank you for taking me to the library. Thank you for cooking a hundred kabillion meals for me. Thank you for reading to me when I was sick. Thank you for giving up your sleep, your right to privacy, your right to anything, for me. Thank you for all the millions and millions of ways you put my happiness before your own. And most of all, mom, thank you for never ever making me feel like you minded one second of it. Thank you for assuring me through your every word and action that I was always worth it and that there was nowhere else you'd rather be and nothing else you'd rather do. Thank you for sending me out into the world with the unshakable conviction of your unconditional love tucked into my heart.

I can never, ever, ever repay you.

Happy birthday, mom!! I love you!