Momming is Hard: True Confessions of a Working Mama

Let me be real with you for a minute.

There are days when I feel like I am KILLING IT at this mom gig. 

I manage to get myself, Charlotte (plus various aspects of the Husband and the dog) together and ready in the morning and get to work on time. I work, pump, eat lunch, work, pump, coffee coffee coffee, work, and race home to get my girl. We spend time outside with Molly and then go for a good walk by the beach. Charlotte falls asleep on the walk, and because she's a perfectangelbaby, she usually stays sleeping during the transfer to her downstairs Pack n Play. This gives me a solid half hour to wash bottles/pump parts, prep bottles for the next day, and get everything prepped for dinner. Our nanny is great about straightening the house and folding laundry for us so that I have the evenings to relax (which is definitely a plus and hugely appreciated). After a nap ranging anywhere from 45 minutes to 2 hours, my girl is up and we have snuggle time on the couch, read books, play, listen to music, etc. until we head to the kitchen to get dinner started. My little sous chef plays in her highchair while I cook dinner, and as soon as Brian is home, we eat and feed Charlotte her supper at the table as a family. Upstairs for tubby time, books, songs, prayers and girlfriend is down for the count. Brian and I have an hour or so to either watch a show on the DVR, read, etc. before we head to bed to start over again the next morning.

Those are the good days. Those are the days when I think "I am AMAZING! I am WONDER WOMAN! I am SUCH A GOOD ROLE MODEL for my daughter because I AM A WORKING MAMA - HEAR ME ROAR!"

And then there are the other days. 

Charlotte is teething and was up a few times during the night - she would only settle down if I was holding her, so we rocked and rocked and rocked. I'd wait for her to be in a good, deep sleep and try the transition into her Pack n Play - not having it. So I slept sitting up in her rocker while holding her until around 4 a.m. this morning. We went to the beach over the weekend and after grocery shopping and working on a little bit of laundry (as in enough to get us essentials for work today), plus all of the routine basics (showers, tubby time, dinner prep, cooking, cleaning up) I was too tired to wash and prep all of the bottles and pump parts last night, so I'm up and at the kitchen sink by 4:30 a.m. to get everything ready for the day. I realize that I never changed the laundry over before bed, so I do a pick-and-choose to dry only what's necessary for today so it'll be ready by the time I'm out of the shower. I straighten the living room, restock Charlotte's diapers and wipes on the downstairs Pack n Play, layout her clean blankets/bibs/burp cloths and head back upstairs to rest my eyes for just a few minutes - it's 5 a.m. I set my alarm (I think?) for 5:30 but when I sit straight up in bed at 6 a.m. it's obvious that I did not, in fact, set my alarm. 

Mad dash to the bathroom for a 5 minute shower - definitely no time for a shampoo this morning. Twist my hair into a bun and hear Charlotte crying from the bedroom. Brian meets me at the bathroom door with her and despite desperately needing a diaper change and apparently starving, she gives me the biggest smile through her sleepy eyes. She screams while he changes her and I rush to get dressed, meeting him in the nursery. 

I take my girl in my arms and she immediately settles down, snuggling into me to nurse. She's hungry and is being the sweetest cuddlebug, hooking her little leg over my arm while she eats. I keep checking the time on my phone (and hate myself for it) - I am so, so late but want to sit here cradling my baby for as long as I can because she's slowly starting to nurse for a little less time here and there and I'm not ready for it to end, not quite yet. I look down and she's giving me the biggest, brightest smile and patting my chest (pat pat pat is her new favorite thing). I snuggle her close and sing "I Love You In the Morning" and "You Are My Sunshine" and give her a million kisses as I bring her to her changing table to get dressed for the day. We say "Good morning, Charlotte! Good morning, Mama!" in her mirror, and head downstairs while Brian gets in the shower. 

We let Molly outside and enjoy the cool weather for a few minutes but I'm frustrated at how long she's taking and yell at her (again, I hate myself for this - she's been so wonderful since Charlotte came into our home and I know that I've lost my patience with her so many times when she didn't deserve it, and it breaks my heart and makes me feel awful). I bribe Molly with cheese and she sprints inside - Brian's in the kitchen and we throw lunches together, running through schedules for the day and plans for dinner that night. Some mornings are okay saying goodbye to Charlotte and others are bad - this is a bad one, and I want to leave before the nanny gets there because it's easier to hand her over to Brian and say goodbye versus the person who's with my baby all day. After a million more kisses, "I love yous" and a kiss on her palm for later, I round up everything I need to get through my day - a massive tote with my snacks and lunch, a huge water bottle, Mother's Milk tea (because I realized over the weekend that my freezer stash is down to one bag - fantastic) and my pump bag with all of the pieces and bottles, plus my wallet, sunglasses, keys, and makeup from the diaper bag. Sprint to the car at the exact time that I should be logging into my computer - excellent. I swing through Dunkin Donuts for caffeine (and apply my 5 minute mom face while in the drive-thru line) and get to my desk a solid 40 minutes late. 

My day is spent... working. Lots of emails, lots of calls, coordinating projects, revising and writing (which takes way more brain power than I have after being up all night), feeling guilty about the time that I take to pump, cry when the nanny sends me pictures and updates of their activities, chug coffee and worry if I'm drinking too much coffee while breastfeeding, browse Pinterest for anything I can relate to Charlotte (recently it's anything related to fall/winter holidays and plans for her first birthday which, TEARS AGAIN), work work work until 3 p.m. I bolt out the door, try to tell myself that my coworkers aren't bitter and judging me with side-eye looks for leaving at 3 o'clock on the dot every day and race home to my girl. 

I walk in the door and the nanny tells me that she sat up for her for the first time and it's a dagger to my heart - why do I have to miss these things? Wasn't she just born yesterday? How is she already sitting up and what else is she doing that I can't see because I'm sitting at my desk staring at her picture while following along with a WebEx? Charlotte smiles and grins and laughs for the nanny, which I know that I should appreciate because she truly loves our baby (and I do appreciate that - she has her faults but we know that she loves and cares for our girl) but today just makes me feel resentful and pretty hateful. Charlotte occasionally will look anywhere but at my face when I come home from work, and it kills me - today she's practicing this game and it makes me tear up. I hurry the nanny out the door and want to sit down and nurse but she's too distracted and keeps popping off to look at anything and everything. I give up because Molly is sitting at my feet begging to go out and as I walk through the kitchen, I remember I never took anything out for dinner. Fill a bowl with water and cross my fingers that frozen turkey sausage links will defrost in time (update: they do not). Charlotte's struggling with her teeth and fusses and feels warm - not a good day for a walk, so we rock and snuggle and she finally gives in to a nap that lasts a solid 23 minutes (I timed it). I call Brian to check his status and immediately feel guilty for wanting him home more quickly - I miss my baby all day; shouldn't I take advantage of every second that I have with her? But she's so fussy today and wants to be held but is moving everywhere and nothing is making her happy. We try the Solly - she conks out and I sit on the couch with her still strapped to me, not moving, and soaking up her snuggles. Molly climbs up next to me and we watch an episode of Real Housewives until she sees one of Sonja's dogs and barks - Charlotte's awake.

Brian's home and we throw together dinner from my Trader Joe's freezer stockpile and have a glass of wine, mainly as a reward for getting through the day. Charlotte eats a little bit of puree but is OVER TODAY and we do an early tubby time which gets a smile and giggle out of her. I brought her home a pink rubber duck and she loves it - working mom guilt for the win! We have jammy time and I sing "Where You Lead," which is our song, and while I put on her lotion she grabs my hand and holds it on her chest - tears. I pull on her lemon pajamas and they're snug - when did my baby start to outgrow these? I know that I should FaceTime my parents but I'm so tired and feeling pretty grouchy myself, so we skip it and read books on our bed until she turns towards me and falls asleep. I put her in her sleep sack and into the Pack n Play, spending a few minutes browsing holiday outfits before I fall asleep with my phone in my hand.

It is hard. It is so freaking hard. I wish that I could say being a working mom has gotten easier, but it hasn't. I wish every single day that I could be home with my baby, and I feel selfishly resentful towards people that can. Sure, it's a huge plus to have our combined incomes right now, but I'd give mine up in a second to have this time with Charlotte - every single day I think "This time is going by so, so fast, and she'll never be this small again." 

I think the most challenging part of being a mama and working full time is never feeling like I'm adequately giving enough to any part of my life. 

If the house is together and laundry is good, I feel guilty for not spending that time with Charlotte. 

If I spend big chunks of time with just Charlotte after work, I feel guilty for not spending that time with Brian. 

If I'm doing great at work, I feel guilty about not being home.

Then there are days where I feel like I fail across the board and cry my eyes out while I'm pumping and know that I just need a fresh start.

So I go home and hug my baby, play with my dog, love my husband, have a glass of wine, and wake up the next morning to do it all over again. And the next day could be awesome, could be awful, but I know that I'm doing the best that I can because good grief, I can only give so much. We all are - we're doing the best that we can.