In 2005, I took a full-time position as library associate at our local library here in Tucson. It was a really difficult decision; I had wanted a part-time position and was offered, instead of part-time, two full-time positions, one with the city library system and another at the university. Of course, this came just 2 weeks after I found I was pregnant with my second child, and 6 weeks after I had decided to go to graduate school full time. Needless to say, I was overwhelmed.
The next 9 months were some of the most difficult and exhausting of my entire life. The first three of those I worked six days a week and Ben had to go to full-time preschool. I felt ill from my pregnancy and kept getting the flu in all its various forms. We found out Maya had a cleft lip and were afraid for the worst. When I stopped working for maternity leave in May, it was one of the happiest days of my life. Countless times I wondered, why had it been so important to work? Why couldn’t I just be happy as a stay-at-home mom? I was exhausted as a SAHM, and grouchy, sure, but nothing compared to the exhaustion of trying to be a student, work a full-time job and still be a parent.
I’ve read a lot of books about this “war” between stay-at-home mothers (SAHM, or shit-ass-ho-motherfucker, as Dooce calls herself) and working mothers, and some of the hype is true. It’s just not the hype most people think.
There is no real delineation between SAHMs and working mothers. Dooce, for example, calls herself a SAHM, and yet the revenue from her website supports her entire family. Other “SAHMs” have eBay stores, sell Mary Kay, or have a home-based business. Many mothers who say they are “working mothers” actually only work 20 hours a week or less. Others work 30 hours a week, 40, 50, 60…or even more. So, if a kid goes to daycare, then that’s a working mother? Also wrong. I know several SAHMs who send their children to daycare — some even full-time. I know many working moms who trade childcare with their spouses and don’t use daycare at all. The variations on “working mother” and “stay-at-home mother” are numerous. And if a husband loses his job and his wife goes out to work, what then? What do we call her? What “box” can we put her in?
Labels are comforting. They are a way that we can point a finger and say, “She’s a (insert word that means ‘different from us’).” In America, where nobody is very opinionated, labels make or break politicians, ministers, businesses, everyday citizens and yes, mothers. Sometimes the weight of a label is too much to bear, and it becomes an insult or a slur.
Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately), labels don’t tell the whole truth about us. Is a mom that is a “non-spanking” mommy a good one? Or does she say that because it’s a buzzword that sounds good to the people around her? What about a mommy that believes in “schedules”… or doesn’t? Cloth diapers versus disposable, wooden toys versus plastic — there are a million ways or words or phrases people use to separate themselves. The truth is, though, is that we are all mothers, all striving for our kids to grow up whole and well, whatever the method.
You know, I’d planned on making this post funny. I had thought about all the different kinds of moms out there — the hippy granola crunchy mother, the power mommy, the environmentally-conscious-but-drives an SUV mommy…the list goes on — but when I sat down to write this, I couldn’t bring myself to make light of what makes us all so crazy.
The truth is, whether or not I work full-time or part-time, I can never be a part-time mother, despite the title of this post. Nobody really can. I may never be a SAHM — or feel comfortable calling myself “homemaker” or whatever — but I am happy to be somebody else’s part-time employee. I’ve asked a lot of women how they do it — how do they “have it all”? By this I mean work full-time and still have time for their families. And the answer is, they don’t. Nobody does. Something has to give, and whether it means I don’t have time to sit on the back porch and watch my son draw chalk pictures, or that I have to let the dishes sit in the sink longer than I’m comfortable with, it’s all the same. There is a sacrifice, as there are only so many hours in the day. Those sacrifices may be as small as dirty dishes or as big as a first concert, first step or first word, but they are sacrifices nonetheless. Those who say they have it all either have much lower expectations of “all” than I do, or they are liars.
Being a working mom is hard. Staying home with little ones day after day — harder. It’s my hope that working a little will make the time with my babies a little sweeter, a little more precious. And me a little less crazy (if that’s possible).
Change is in the air; next week my part-time life begins. Will it be better? Will I get as close as I can to having it all? I don’t know. But I’ll keep you posted.
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