Tag: #workingmom

Parents: You are On Your Own!

This is what I do not understand about this country at all. Alleged pro-lifers (you are just pro-birthers really) scream and shout about saving a child’s life! Don’t let harm come to an innocent! But there is no support system in place in this godforsaken country AFTER you give birth to support you as a parent. None. You are on your own 100% of the time, and any support you do find, you will pay through the damn nose for.

Both my ex and I work in Corporate America, and even though the pandemic rages on, most corporations have discontinued any kind of pandemic support. Neither of us has any paid sick time if one of us or our daughter gets sick. Well, guess what happened last week? Our daughter tested positive for Covid. While thankfully she appears to have had a mild case, my ex had to eat the daycare money he had already pre-paid for the week ($300+), while simultaneously trying to work with a kid at home. While his boss was flexible, if you are not a parent, you cannot possibly understand how completely and utterly exhausting this is. Trying to still get shit done with a kid at home is next to impossible. But still, you try because you do not have the time or ability to take off from work. The work will be piling up if you ARE fortunate enough to have the paid time to take off. Add to that trying not to get sick FROM her as a result, and that only adds to the anxiety. I do recognize our privilege here in that we even CAN stay home with our child; many, MANY parents in this country do not even have this option available to them.

Since we live in a city with no family, we have no built-in support structure in place. No grandparents or other relatives to be able to help out with our kid in times like these. His only support system is me and I am his. Today is technically day #8 and she is STILL testing positive on an antigen test. I want to do the right thing, in case she still is contagious, by keeping her home with me today. I would feel horrible intentionally exposing other children at our daycare. Again, I recognize my privilege as a lot of parents cannot even do this, even if they really wanted to. So that means she is home with me today.

Last week, I felt completely overwhelmed with the sheer volume of work that was on my plate. Having her home with me does not help that feeling of overwhelm. In fact, my boss wrote back to ask if there was anything she could help with and my snarky reply was: Can you help with the impending mental breakdown? As you can imagine, she hasn’t replied. How do you even reply to that? Even though I was one million percent serious, there is little to no help she can offer me, because I work in a technical field that she does not have any skills. Again, whatever I cannot get done in terms of work will be piling up and waiting for me. It doesn’t go away. The workload, the overwhelm, the worry, the constant struggle to be everything to everyone all the time…it doesn’t go away ever as a parent. This feeling that if you are kicking ass in your career that somehow means you are neglecting your duties as a mother or vice versa. This persistent feeling of failing in at least one major area of your life at all times.

I sit at my work laptop, attempting to tackle the pile of work, and being unable to summon the energy or focus needed to get started right now. In all reality, with my mental health right now, I could stand to take about a month off of work….but I can’t because almost no one in this country can afford to take unpaid leave of any kind, even if they desperately need it. I feel almost panicky, since I know whatever gets put aside today will just be added to the pile for tomorrow. This cycle of feeling buried, with no support or relief in sight, is so very depressing. I fucking hate this country so much at times.

Adulting: No User Manual Available

I remember as a child longing so much to be an ADULT, because fuck this shit of parents’ rule…I want to eat Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups whenever I want. Don’t tell me what to do, you’re not the boss of me! I mean, c’mon, what kid hasn’t said that at some point during their childhood?!? Being an adult seemed so magical, fun, and exciting! No one to make you eat your vegetables or make you go to bed at a certain time or tell you what to do. Ah, the nostalgia of it all. It sounded SO good when I was a kid.

Sitting on the other side of that childhood wishing as a middle-aged adult who is also a parent, I so desperately want to give back my adulting card. Like where do I get a refund people?!? Can I be a Karen and ask, “May I speak to the manager of life, please?” Because this shit is not magical, fun and exciting. Most days, if I’m truly honest, as an adult and a parent, I’m winging it. I’m making shit up as I go along and praying to the gods, nature, divine (basically anyone out there who may listen to my fervent praying) that I don’t fuck things up too badly with my decision making. The pandemic has not made this decision making any easier. At least in the beginning stages of this, it seemed like we could all die if I made the wrong decision for myself or my family. I’m only being a smidge dramatic, but the burden seemed real to me.

There’s SO much decision fatigue as an adult. From your job, to friends, to all the household and parenting responsibilities, we’re making decisions. All. Damn. Day. Some are easy…like I’m too exhausted to cook so pizza tonight for dinner it is! Some aren’t that easy…will moving to a new job alleviate some of my work-related stress or just shift it around? Is a new job going to make things better, worse, or samesies?

And then you get into the major dilemmas of life, beyond career. Currently, my husband and I are going through marital issues and the myriad of questions and potential decisions overwhelms me like an avalanche. Will counseling help? Can we really afford it (we can’t)? What if we get divorced? How will that affect our daughter? Am I making the right decision? Am I going to permanently fuck up my daughter or look back and think if I take step A, I made a horrible mistake?!? Queue the avalanche of feelings. Worry. Helplessness. Anger. Sadness. Uncertainty.

I’m longing for that parental oversight of someone who will tell me what to do. In an individual counseling session for myself, I even talked to my therapist and said, “So, can you provide me a bulleted list of what needs to be done?” She laughed, but I was one million percent serious. Can someone just tell me what I need to do here?!? What is the next right step for me? Does someone have a secret adulting manual they can share with me that has the Cliff Notes and all the answers?

Anyone? Anyone? Bueller? No? Well, damn it, I’m at least going to go back to eating my Reese’s Peanut Butter cups while I fret over this adulting bullshit. And it IS complete and utter bullshit.

Running Away…for Girls Night Out

I’m running away tonight. At least that’s how I feel right now. I can’t get out of the house fast enough. I’m meeting a friend/former colleague for dinner tonight and am so geeked to finally catch up with her! We have a lot in common and have similar life situations, and find ourselves chatting up every topic under the sun.

I feel furiously angry at the moment, and I’m sitting alone in our bedroom while husband has the kiddo at the playground, trying to process my fucking rage. He was on a business trip this past week. Left last Sunday, and he got home Friday night around 6PM…just in time for him to change into the costume I laid out for him for a friend’s birthday / Halloween party. I’ve managed the household by myself this entire week, which included 2 days of offsite workshops for MY job, which resulted in 3 hour round trip commutes those 2 days (the norm is less than an hour).

He’s been gone all week, barely got home in time for us to head out the door and go somewhere else. He’s had to do none of the work related to our family. No uninterrupted sleep because the kiddo woke up crying or the dog decided to make you his pillow at 3AM. No litany of chores to do before even walking out the door to go to work. Then heading into a job that is so ambiguously vague and with a boss who doesn’t have a clue what he’s doing, just to up the anxiety and frustration levels I was already feeling at home. I sobbed Tuesday morning before work, because I was tired and felt like I was running on fumes, and was trying to figure out how mentally I was going to make it through another shitty day.

We had a great time last night, but I feel like it all dissolved this morning. Our child woke up at 5:30AM. When I saw the monitor, she already had her bedroom light on and had toys out and was playing. No going back to sleep for mom. My hubby ended up sleeping until almost 9AM. This afternoon he left 20 minutes before she woke up from her nap (both her and I were asleep), and was gone almost 2 hours running errands all by himself.

He couldn’t figure out why I didn’t want to take our kid and the dog for a walk by myself, without him. I suggested a family walk and he agreed, but then said he had to poop. I sighed in frustration, because the family walk would have to wait until his leisurely shit was done. He jumped down my throat about how he can’t even take a poop without me getting pissed.

It’s not that. It’s not the poop itself, it’s the cumulative pile of shit. It’s the build up of frustration of me having no one to tap out to all week, and then continuing more of the same over the weekend. When I thought it’d be my turn to get a break. When I thought him coming home would bring some kind of relief.

What I really wanted was for him to say, “Let me get up with her since you’ve been holding down the fort all week.” All I heard was his snoring beside me as I got out of bed. All I wanted was for him to ask, “How can I help you unwind after this week?” All I wanted for him was to think of me and how he could help relieve some of my frustration or irritation. What I wanted is a little bit of the reprieve he had this week, being on his own. I wanted a little bit of equality.

So yes, I’m totally fucking running away tonight. Even got my running shoes on.

Perfect Timing

Perfect timing for my daughter to get sick. 2-1/2 weeks into a new job. With no manager or director right now. Sigh. Tuesday night we were up half the night with her because she wasn’t feeling well. Poor peanut, I know this is not her fault but shit. What awful timing!

Yesterday I stayed home from work with her. I tried to do some work when she napped but also wanted to make sure I took good care of her. I was able to still attend a conference call because the husband came home from work. I felt so incredibly guilty when I was working and not taking care of V, and then felt guilty when I was with her and not attending to my work. It’s incredibly exhausting to feel like an octopus juggling all these balls in the air. And the sad fact? By trying to spread myself so thin I’m not doing any of these things well. At all.

Last night she still had almost a 103 fever. I felt so bad for her because I knew she was miserable. Poor baby. Even though she woke up with no fever this morning, I still wanted to keep her home for another day.

Which meant another morning of trying to juggle. Then rushing off to work for an afternoon filled with meetings and trainings. Sigh. These are days that I wish I could clone myself.