Week 12 - Workin' Nine to Five

Workin' nine to five
What a way to make a livin'
Barely gettin' by
It's all takin' and no givin'
They just use your mind
And they never give you credit
It's enough to drive you
Crazy if you let it

Oh Dolly, I couldn't have said it better. Even though my hours are 8:15-4:30, the meaning of the lyrics don't change. I  work because it brings me great satisfaction. I get a huge high off of completing tasks and achieving goals that I set for myself at work. I don't really need anyone else to pat me on the back (though it is nice). My arms do a pretty good job at reaching around and patting my own self. However, work has become just that - work. Ever since I went back to work after Lidia was born, my priorities have shifted a bit. I no longer work for selfish reasons - I work to support my family and to positively influence my child. My choice to continue working wasn't an easy one. The weekend before I went back to work after Lidia, I had a fool-proof plan of how Jason and I could have made it work with just his income. Looking back, it was more of a foolISH plan that included eating bread and rice for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I just didn't want to leave my baby. I was finding myself where I find myself often in life - on the diving board, not moving. I just needed someone to push me off, and that someone was Jason.

I cannot speak for stay-at-home moms, nor do I have any right to judge that decision. Because I, too, made a decision. The decision was to go back to work, full-time, after Lidia. Now, there were, of course, stipulations. I needed every bit of the 3 months that I got to spend with her. I needed this for bonding, for breastfeeding, and for Lidia. Without that 3 months, I don't know that I could have managed going back to work. And for that, I am grateful. I'm even more grateful for working at such a family-centered University, and working for such a family-centered boss. Even knowing this, you will never hear me say that it was easy to go back. It was like Lidia and I were magnetically connected. Whenever we weren't together, we both had to put so much strength into staying in our respective places. We braced ourselves for the 8 hours that we were apart. Then, when it was time for us to reunite, we connected immediately and it was like we were never apart. Of course, the days got easier as time went by. But every now and then, that maternal guilt crept up - and still does. The bad days that happen to us all - workplace drama, making mistakes - make me sometimes question why I choose to subject myself to this insanity instead of spending my days having tea parties and park dates. But, it only takes a few days for reality to set in. I tell myself - and everybody else - that I wouldn't be able to be the mother that I am without working. I am a workin' woman - I need work for emotional and financial reasons. And for me to be happy and to be the best mother that Lidia and baby peanut deserve, then I need to continue working. I want to set a good example for them, too. I want them to know that being a woman doesn't mean you have to succomb to the traditional roles of domestication. I am the antithesis of the traditional, domestic woman. I kept my maiden name, I work, I rarely cook, and my house has dust bunnies and black animal hairs all over it (I try, but darn it's hard!). Something's gotta give - it can't be expected that a woman can work 40 hours a week and still have time to spend quality time with her child while putting a 4 course meal on a sparkling clean table in a sparkling clean home. I would much rather spend time coloring Care Bears coloring pages, playing with Play-Doh, and riding the tricycle than cleaning and cooking. Thankfully for me, my husband is 100% agreeable to this notion. I can honestly say that Jason and I are equally split across the board - we put in equal time with Lidia, we share equal financial responsibilities, we share household responsibilities equally. If this didn't happen, I don't think it would be possible for me to work. Yes, I will continue to work after baby peanut makes his/her charming debut. Yes, I will need my 3 months of baby peanut and me time. And finally, I'll need my 2-30 minute pumping sessions at work for a year. But that's really all I ask for.

Working moms will always have their children on their minds - no matter how important the task at hand is. We will most definitely always drop an opportunity to "move-up" if it means being able to spend more time with our children. Nothing - and I mean nothing - in the world beats the feeling when I go to pick Lidia up from school. Seeing her eyes light up, smiling ear-to-ear, and screamming over and over, "mommy, mommy!" as she runs to me at full speed with her arms reached out elicits a feeling in me that I can't even put into words. She reinforces my confidence in my decision every day. Maybe it's my maternal guilt that allows my justification for being a working mom make sense. Whatever it is, it's working. And I'm not one for messing with things that work.

Plum-tastic!

Baby peanut, you are the size of a plum! Can you believe that? We had the ultimate pleasure of hearing your heartbeat for the first time this week. That little handy-dandy fetal heart doppler is one cool, little tool! Of course, we wanted you to see it, so we posted the video below for you (make sure you turn your volume up!).

Each week, you are growing stronger and stronger. Yes, all of your systems have developed by now, and we are very thankful. Over the course of the next months, your body will spend most of its time building up what's already there, as well as putting more meat on your little bones. A funny note - if I push on my tummy, you will most likely move in response because your reflexes are building. This is so exciting to mommy!

I cannot say it enough how truly blessed we feel to have you with us, peanut. You bring so much joy to our lives already. I can't even imagine how much joy you will add when you finally arrive. But, we are willing to wait, my dear. You need all the time you can get in that cozy womba (not a typo) of mine. Great rewards are worth waiting for, peanut.