I AM A WORKING MOTHER
I am a working mother.
Every morning, I kiss my little boy goodbye and leave the house
with a strange combination of heartbreak and relief.
Today, I will talk to adults.
I will discuss strategy and ideology.
There's a high likelihood that poop won't come up in any of my conversations.
I will keep my phone next to me on my desk. Waiting for a picture. A video. A text. Did he finish his bottle? Take a good nap?
Do you think he missed me?
Did he notice I was gone?
I am away from my little boy for at least 9 hours a day. Sometimes, as many as 15. There are days when I miss wake up and bed time. Days that I cry because my nanny got all of the snuggles and all of the smiles.
But I work because it keeps me sane. I work because I like it. I work to be a role model for my son. And let's face it, I work because two incomes are better than one.
Maybe one day this will change. But for now, this is life. Each day, I do the best that I can to live in two worlds. And know that on most days, when I get home at night, I will be greeted with the squeals, smiles, and snuggles that make it worthwhile.