Seeking Absolution...

I normally try to make my posts more up-beat and cheerful--we all have enough drama in our own lives without anyone elses', but today I'm in a bad space. So, here it goes:

My kids are acting terribly, I'm tired and cranky, and I'm feeling pretty useless as a human being right now (can you hear the violins playing yet?).

When I'm in this space I think about social movements in history. The women's liberation movement is something that I think about quite often. Strange, but true. I often think that what my grandmother and mother have done for my generation is both good and very, very bad. The Women's Movement created the possibility of independence, a voice, and choices for women; yet it also took away that which we already had. I am grateful for what it accomplished in that I can go into most businesses, doctors' offices, or any other public place and be treated (mostly) in a fair and upright manner. I can complain and have my complaints heard, addressed, and changes made as a result of them. I can drive a car, vote, have a career, a family; I can have it all, thanks to the Women's Liberation Movement.

Or can I?

Today, I feel the crushing pressure closing in on me from all directions. Dolce et decorum est...said Wilfred Owen (one of my favorite poets, whose works were not discovered for the gems they are until well after his death). It is an old lie. You cannot possibly have it all. I cannot have it all, though try I may.

I had the luxury of being a Stay At Home Mother (S.A.H.M) for a year, after my son was born. I about went crazy the first few months--what the heck do you actually do with a toddler and a newborn all day long, with no help? I had never had the experience of being a REAL mother; I went back to work before my daughter turned 4 months old. I have felt extreme guilt over going to work so soon after Peanut was born because of the relief that I felt to be 'free' again. See, I couldn't wait to return to work. Working was so much easier than being a MOM. I got to love on my girl for an hour or so in the morning, and then whisk her off to my daycare provider (whom I absolutely adore--she is a fabulous human being who truly loves what she does) go to work and then pick her up at about 3:30pm. That left me with about 3 hours of being a MOM before Peanut went to bed. Truly, I was only a parent for 4ish hours a day.

That is not parenting.

Then, along came my Chubbers and I flat out told B.J. I would stay home for the year and be a mom. It was hard, but by the time my year was up, I was loathe to go back to work. I wanted to stay home with my babies. I wanted to be a MOM. I loved seeing all their changes and watching Chub-chub make all his milestones (Chubbers is a Typical child, v.s. Peanut having multiple developmental delays, not the leas of which is ASD). It was such a pure joy. It nearly crushed me to drop my babies off at the daycare and head to work.

Well, here it is, summer, and I am 'off' work for a couple of months. My children and I have to get used to each other again. Learn each others rhythms and needs. We're getting there. Slowly. Peanut is having a tough time adjusting. Her attitude just keeps getting worse. She is mean and nasty to her brother; she screams at me and and her brother, and her behavior is just 'ugly' overall. This makes me feel like crap. No, it make me feel like dog crap. Peanut tells me she wants her teacher. I'm glad, because it means she's having a good time at school. I'm also distraught because, she behaves nicely for the teacher and plays well with the kiddos, but for me she is a terror. I feel so ineffectual. I feel like she would prefer to be at the daycare and at school rather than be home. She has told me she doesn't want to 'go home' after school or other outings. How should I take this? What does it mean? Does she hate me? Is being home so terrible? I take it as she would rather be anywhere than with me. It probably isn't true, but on a day like today, that is how it feels.

Which brings me back to the fact that I can't have it all and that the Women's Movement had a dark side to it.

In the past women were at home, to keep house and to tend the children. Men went to work, and made a decent living wage. The roles were sex-stereotyped, but likely worked in most families (yes, I am aware of abuse, limitations, etc.). Today, women are expected to do all of the same jobs that they did before, just they're also expected to pull in a substantial paycheck to go along with it. The Second Shift details the ins and outs of a modern 'liberated' woman. I fall into that category. Men today make less money than they did 30 years ago (adjusted for inflation) and finding a decent job for them is more and more difficult. Women have bridged the gap far enough to make $.70 to every $1.00 a man makes. Men cannot support their families today as they were able to in the 1950's working a single (non college-degree) job. It is so unfair. Are we really further ahead than our great-grandmothers? It seems, to me, men and women are more depressed, more angry, and their quality of life is much lower than it was in my grandmother's day. Is this supposed to be called progress?

I work. Part-time (really my hours total up to between 35-40 per week). My children go to daycare. Daycare dissolves the majority of my paycheck; once my student loan and some of the smaller household bills are taken care of I have virtually no money left. I see my children after work (between 3:30pm and bedtime) during the crabbiest time of day for them and for me. I am in charge of upkeep of the house, groceries, landscaping, laundry, and other miscellanea. I am not complaining about my husband. He does a good job of being a husband, father, and provider. He does share in the tasks of the household. I just wind up doing more, after all, I work part-time.

Why am I working? I keep rationalizing that my children won't necessarily remember me being home while they were infants/toddlers. They grow up so fast. I'll be able to be there for them after school during their school-age years--where it really counts (I can go to all their activities, be active in their lives and know who their friends are, and supervise them when many other people leave their kids to 'fend for themselves' after a certain age--opening the door to pre-marital sex, drugs, and all sort of other fun things). But, WHY? Why do I work? My paycheck is too small to really make much of a difference. I still do everything I did when I was home for that year. I'll tell you why: So I don't lose my license. I cannot afford to stay home with my kids and lose my license. I worked so hard for it (I got a master's degree after it!!). I can't afford to take the exorbitantly priced graduate school classes that would maintain my license (at $500+ per class/term). Someday my children will fly from the nest. If my licensure is kaput, where do I go? I went to school so I wouldn't have to wait tables the rest of my life. My mother insisted I get a degree so that I could take care of myself should the need arise. As one of my collegues has shown me the need arises all too often (her husband is no longer able to support their family). Had she not maintained her license, they would be homeless. What do I do?

I am stuck.

I feel like I can't go back, and I cannot move forward. The proverbial 'rock and a hard place.' What do I do? What do I do?

I need someone to give me their benediction and tell me that I'm doing o.k. That my kids will turn out just fine. That this season in my life won't go on forever. That I'm doing the right thing.

I need to know that it isn't all for nothing. I need to know that I'm not a bad mother.

Life is hard when you're teetering on the razor's edge in a pair of stilettos while trying to be everything to everyone. Again, I think of the Women's Liberation Movement. Was it all worth it? Am I a happier person because of all the work the mothers of yesterday did? Again, I don't know.