- Share This Post
- Pin It
- 4
- 33
-
Sparkle (9)
As summer began winding to a close a few weeks ago, I was feeling pretty darn proud of myself. I had kept my kids busy and active with summer camps, Vacation Bible Schools, playdates, vacations to the beach and to see grandparents, day trips, hikes, excursions, and special events. I had managed to get all of my writing assignments done on time, redesign my blog (with a whole lot of help) and take some time off with two different trips to the beach. I had worked in a few business trips and made sure my children were well taken care of by family members and trusted babysitters while I was gone.
Yep, I thought to myself. I can do it all. I can be a good wife and mom, keep the house clean and have my dream career. I am woman. HEAR ME ROAR.
And then my seven-year-old daughter said something the other night that shot all my smug thoughts straight to hell.
“This summer has been really hard on me,” she said quietly as I tucked her into bed. “I think summer is my least favorite time of year.”
“What do you mean it’s been hard on you?” I asked her. “You’ve had a great summer!”
“It’s hard for me because I don’t get to see you as often as I do the rest of the year,” she said.
My face fell. She had a point. She and her 4-year-old brother had spent a week with my parents early in the summer and another four days with them while I went to the beach with my girlfriends. And then there were the business trips. I really didn’t think the kids missed me when I left for a few days- Their dad turned those times into Don’t-Tell-Mommy extravaganzas of doughnut dinners and late bedtimes. But apparently, I was wrong.
I tried to reassure my daughter as best I could, but her words unnerved me. Business has picked up for me lately and more travel is almost a guarantee. I’ve worked so hard to get to where I am now and to have a career that would allow me to provide for my family and still be at home with them most of the time. I’m finally reaching that goal.
But is it coming at the cost of my daughter’s sense of well-being?
“I just don’t understand,” I told my friend Jane a few days later. “I thought I was balancing everything so well. To hear her say that just killed me.”
“I know,” my friend replied. “My daughter told me the other day that I had been more like an aunt to her this summer than a mom.” I winced. Jane works as hard as anyone I know. She generally has between two and three jobs at any given time, and she and her husband keep crazy hours so that one of them can always be home with her daughter. But this summer, that had proved to be impossible, and little Cara was spending many of her days at Jane’s best friend’s house. Hearing Cara say that must have been crushing.
All this was weighing heavily on my mind as I flew to San Diego last week for the annual BlogHer conference. Not going was out of the question; I was hosting the closing party and speaking on a panel, and every single hour was filled with parties and events held by important business contacts.
But even as I met with celebrities and dined on lobster tails and danced with my friends at parties and felt incredibly fortunate to have a JOB that let me do these kinds of things, the mom guilt never really went away. Instead, it sat like a heavy stone in the pit of my stomach. What were my kids doing? Were they eating right? How long had it been since their last bath? Did they miss me? Were they sad? Were they brushing their teeth? Was the babysitter doing more with them than playing video games?
I texted and called often, but the conversations did little to make me feel better. I couldn’t get past the nagging feeling that I should have been there with them instead of having fun across the country… even though I was making money. Even though I was doing business. Even though I was living my dream.
These feelings of guilt aren’t something I talk about very often with my mom friends- After all, I have it so much better than so many moms I know. I can set my own schedule
