Thoughts on being a work-from-home mom

No mother has an easy job. That goes without saying, I suppose. Whether you are a full-time stay-at-home mom, a parent who works outside of the home full-time, or you’re one of those moms who somehow manages to stay home AND work, life as a mommy has some pretty hairy days.  I wish I could say that I’m going to sit here and compose the much-desired solution to this challenge. However, if I had the answer to that I figure I’d have a multi-million dollar book contract by this point and would no longer be blogging for an audience of 5. But I love anyone who takes a moment out of their crazy lives to read this, so I’ll share my insights anyway.  

I have been blessed with three absolutely fantastic little boys, ages 8, 6 and 1.  Yes, we went all crazy and decided to start over a while back. Best decision EVER. Anyway, I digress. Ever since I’ve had children, I’ve managed to find some sort of employment that allowed me to work part-time, often times mostly from home. When people hear this, they automatically reply with a jealous look and some sort of comment along the lines of, “wow, THAT must be nice.”  Really? You think? Yes, I love being with my children as much as I can. And yes, I love having some sort of identity outside of mommy/nag/diaper changer. However, it isn’t all roses and daydreams, people. It’s really, really hard. When I’m at work, I feel like I should be at home. And when I’m at home, I’m often busy thinking about something I’m supposed to be doing for work. And if I carve out a little time for myself, don’t even get me started on the guilt involved with that one.

Lately I figured out that this “dream” scenario has actually done quite a number on my self-esteem. I’ve unknowingly spiraled into a place where I feel like I’m a total failure in EVERY aspect of my life. I feel like my employer would like to get more from me, to see better and quicker results, and have me be more invested in the business. At home my husband feels like he’s not only low man on the totem pole, but perhaps that I somehow forgot him back at the wigwam. And my children, while thriving and amazing little creatures, would undoubtedly tell you that they’d much prefer to have a less crabby, tired and not necessarily present mommy. Thinking this way makes me feel like an epic failure. Which makes me want to drink. Or cry. Or both. Maybe later.

Anyway, lately I have come up with a few things that I hope will be solutions to this downward spiral. The first is to ask for help. My friends can probably attest to the fact that I’m fairly notorious for asking for help. I’m not super mom, and never will be. I’m the person who drives two hours out of town to meet the family accountant to do our taxes while forgetting to bring along the new baby’s social security number. Faithful Friend’s husband got to break into my house and dig around in my scary dirty office on hands and knees trying to get my safe to open so I could salvage the trip and actually get our taxes done. Yes, I need LOTS of help. And that’s OK.  I just make sure I’m stocked up on wine and thank you cards, which I readily distribute so that said Faithful Friends will still answer the phone whenever I call. Seems to be working so far.

The other thing I’m working on is to try my absolute best to be where I’m at and do what I’m doing with total focus. That isn’t always easy, mind you. Like the day that I was at the office and got a call from the nanny that our dog had ran away and wouldn’t come back to her; I felt pretty much snagged in a land of in between that had absolutely no way out. He returned (thankfully? I jest. Yes, thankfully), and all was well that ended well. But I’m going to keep working on being at work when I’m there and giving it my total focus, and then going home to be with my family when I’m done and try like heck to leave it all behind. That means that when my co-worker calls me at 7:30 in the morning to remind me of something just “while she was thinking about it,” I’ll now be letting those calls go to voicemail until the kiddos are out the door at 8:30. Life in corporate land will not end in that itty bitty hour, I’m fairly certain of it. I’ll have to say that this part is hard. My company and my peers have high expectations. That’s while I’ll remain a contract employee with no benefits yet the ability to set my own hours, thank you very much.

But most of all, I’m going to work on cutting myself some slack. No, I can’t be at every school party or event. I can’t take off and go on my kids’ overnight school camping trips. And I can’t always be the employee my intense co-workers often expect. And that’s OK. What I CAN be is a mom who loves her kids with total abandon, who makes sure that her husband feels important and valued, and who works as hard as she can to be the best darn PART-TIME contract employee this company has ever seen. 

It’s a jungle out there, mommies. Arm yourselves with a little bit of balance and self-love, and we all just might make it out together.