Being A Working Mom: Enough To Drive You Crazy If You Let It

Will was sitting in the cart at the store this weekend and he pushed me away and said, "No, Mommy. Go."

The rational part of my brain understands this. After all, Will is a toddler now and it's only natural that he assert his independence.

The irrational part of my brain, however?

“My baby doesn’t need me anymore!”

Then, I realized that I'm going back to the office this week.

I got pregnant right before COVID hit and the world basically shut down. It was a 0/10 experience and I would not recommend being pregnant for the first time during a global pandemic when there's no vaccine and the world's shittiest man is president.

As a result, I started working from home and for the past two years, my "office" has been a series of couches, kitchen counters and at least one balcony in St. Pete's.

In doing so, I've had a luxury that few American moms get - spending time with my son and watching him grow from a newborn to a toddler while still earning a paycheck.

My parents take care of Will (read: spoil him rotten) while I'm actively working and in between Zoom calls or projects, I get to snuggle up with my son and read Nibbles The Book Monster or take him to the playground while answering emails.

This is going to be a good transition and ease him into going to daycare. Also, I kinda like being back in the office and seeing my coworkers again. It's nice to be around adults and not ask, "Are you pooping? Do you want a snack? Wait. Why are you all wet?" every hour or so. The rational part of my brain understands this.

But the irrational part of my brain?

Oh and I've been listening to The Chicks cover of Landslide on a loop.

You know, the soul-shattering Fleetwood Mac song with the lyrics

Can I handle the seasons of my life?

Well, I've been afraid of changin'

'Cause I've built my life around you

But time makes you bolder

Even children get older

And I'm getting older too

As a result, I'm having feelings.

Like a lot of feelings.

Like a Drake amount of feelings.

There are a lot of conflicting emotions that come along for the ride when it comes to motherhood. For example - Will has been driving me bananas lately by jumping and clambering all over the couch.

There are about 30,000 ways he could hurt himself in this process - falling on the floor, smashing his face onto the metal curtain holder, smashing onto the wooden frame of the couch - so I’m constantly telling him to stop and get down. After a certain point, I just grab him off the couch, pop him on the floor and tell him that the next time he climbs on the couch, he’s going into time-out in his highchair.

He climbs up again, I put him in the highchair for a whole minute (literally 60 seconds) and he wails, “Mommy! Don’t do it. No, Mommy” and then, pull him out, give him snugs and distract him with something else only to have the whole process starts again a couple of hours later.

So, I feel anxious because I don’t want him to get hurt, irritated because oh my God, this child doesn’t listen, like a total asshole because his little cries are just so pitiful and how could I do this, filled with overwhelming love for my snuggly little boosk who fits so perfectly into my arms, demoralized because I know he doesn’t act this way with my mom and just flat out exhausted because it’s a lot, y’all.

All in the span of about five minutes.

Being a working mom is hard.

Hell, being a mom is hard.

So if you want to get together to talk to some food and each other, let me know. We could all use a little support…and a lot of carbs.