A long time ago imagining a future that included having children, I think I remember myself adamantly saying that I would be a working mother; of course I would be a working mother. I grew up with working role models; my mother with her nine to five job, my stepmother an executive editor. Women could do it all. Of course I would work.
Boy did that change. I worked with children for nearly twenty years before I had my own (not my plan, but so life goes), and who better to raise my own child than me? I couldn't even imagine going to work and leaving my baby. And with the cost of day care, who could afford it anyway when half my paycheck would go to someone else? By the time I had Cassidy, I didn't give a crap about being some kind of wonder woman. I wanted to stay home and be mommy, full time.
I don't regret one second of this. The first months were bliss. Eat, sleep, lay around a coo; what could be better? I had time to read books, clean the bathroom, gaze at my daughter and marvel at her tiny toes and eyelashes. I was there when she smiled, laughed, and rolled over for the first time. I was there for tummy time and the bewilderment of her first bite of rice cereal. I witnessed her rock, crawl, pull herself up, take steps. I have been the primary one to bathe, feed, change, rock, sing, and play with her. And it has been awesome.
It's a crime that most women don't have the luxury of this choice, and it's a shame that I had to lose a parent in order to have the option. It's ironic that what's allowed me to be with my daughter on one income is the small inheritance from my dad. Having just about exhausted this resource, I'm trickling back into the work force slowly, and, I'll admit it, not unhappily.
Being with Cassidy all the time is a full time job, and not. I dreaded her walking, thinking that I would have to have an eagle eye on her at all times, but that hasn't been the case. We are reasonably child proofed, so there are definitely times I leave her in her playroom while I clean the kitchen or straighten the living room or fold laundry, etc. I peek in at her looking at books, or banging on her drum, or making her stuffed animals kiss one another with an enthusiastic "Buh!" I'll talk on the phone and she'll toddle around, looking out the windows or squealing at the cat who's sleeping on a chair in the dining room.
My sister in law came over the other day. I left Cassidy with her for awhile and went out to do some errands. When I got back, she said "My God, how do you get anything done?" and, "Sorry I left you with such a mess!" There were books and toys all over the floor of the playroom. It almost made me feel guilty. I imagined them, full on playing, the hour and a half I was gone. I could see the trail of what they'd done - read books, built with blocks, shaken maracas, maybe had a few cheerios (or were those from yesterday?). I do those things with my daughter, but not constantly. I do those things with my daughter, but oftentimes she does them herself while I am doing other things, myself.
I'm working part time now, doing several different things. I wait tables all day on Sundays, I tutor a couple times a week for a couple hours, and I've started baking for a friend with a cafe in her old bakery barn up the street. I'm usually happy to be out in the world, away from the house, being productive in a way that results in cash in my pocket or a beautiful cupcake (and cash in my pocket). When I get home, I can't wait to be with Cassidy. I don't mean I can't wait to put away dishes while she hangs out in her playroom, I mean I can't wait to get in her face and sing silly songs, ask her what sound does a lion make? a rooster? a pig? and giggle our heads off.
My husband gets the heroes welcome every day. As soon as he pulls in the driveway, Cassidy is screaming Daddy! Daddy! Daddy! like she hasn't seen him in weeks. They have a photo worthy reunion every single day. Me? I'm not gone long enough for her to miss me that much, except for the one day a week I waitress all day. And when Chris told me that last Sunday at his parents house walking in the fields, for twenty minutes Cassidy yelled "Mama! Mama! Mama!" as if I were going to walk out of the woods at any moment, I couldn't help it; it made me feel pretty good.
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