There are a few blogs that I follow that are SAHMs. Some have been Stay-at-home-moms forever, some are newly resigned from professional careers. All offer me a window into a world I don't inhabit. But I do really like to visit.
I love the weekends. I love the long weekends. I love pretending to be a SAHM from time to time. But mostly, I love it because it is temporary.
I really, really loved my maternity leave. I got to pretend to be a SAHM for about 6 months, and then a part-time SAHM for another 9 months.
In fact, I had a ridiculously awesome maternity leave situation. Professor-life has its serious perks, and at my university maternity leave is perhaps the best one. I got two semesters off from teaching, full pay, but had to participate in service stuff, and research productivity was supposed to be the same. Given how my teaching schedule works and that I have tenure, I backed way the hell off from work for about 6 months beyond my formal maternity leave as well. Yep, that's almost a year and a half.
For the first few months after M was born, I did email every few days, but only answered the emails I felt like answering. When M was about 8 weeks old I started holding office hours in a local coffee shop once or twice a week to meet with my graduate students. But, I spent most of that time organizing pictures of my baby.
By the time M was about 5 months old I was kind of ready for a little bit more work. On my longer days at school, I would drop her off at daycare around 9am and pick her up around 3:30pm or 4pm, Monday through Friday. Some days I would drop her off later and pick her up earlier. That flexibility was a perfect amount of time at each of my "jobs".
This fall has been so much harder. This was the first semester I was back to my regular time demands, teaching a very big lecture course with a lab and all the associated graduate teaching assistants, a pretty heavy university service load, and significant dept service tasks, a lot of graduate students in my lab at the point where they really need my attention, a couple of manuscripts that had to be submitted/turned around, etc. And then my husband hasn't been so well. He got a hernia and hasn't done well with the recovery from surgery, so I have been almost a single mom in terms of all the parenting duties since September.
But this is still the best job for parenting, from my perspective.
I used to complain like mad about how hard and stressful my job is. I worked about 10-12 hours 7 days a week every week of the year from 1996-2009. I spent 3-6 months each year in Africa. Stressful, hell yes, but it was mostly self-imposed. I then cut down to about 10 hours 6 days a week for a couple of years, and dropped down to taking weekends off for the most part once I got pregnant.
I did work my ass off in those early years. There were definitely afternoons when I laid my head on my desk and cried from all the stress and pressure. But it is good that I made all that effort b/c I would not have this awesome job had I not. Someone else who was willing to work such ridiculous hours would have my job instead.
While I would not really recommend my path to parenthood, given all the uncertainties and tears and sadness, and feared regret, now that I have my baby this is a wonderful age and career stage to do so.
Career-wise I have a lot of projects and collaborations. I find it easier to come up with paper ideas and I have graduate students and younger colleagues very motivated to do the heavy lifting in exchange for the ideas and support. I teach classes I've taught many times before, so prep time can be more variable rather than always requiring a huge effort. I have enough gravitas that I can get away with being a bit more remote with students, including my own graduate students. That sounds bad, but hopefully you know what I mean.
And on the personal side, I have a lot less to prove these days. I kind of feel like I accomplished some of the big things I wanted to do, or at least I am close enough to realize that they don't matter as much to me as I thought they would. So I am comfortable falling into a SAHM role from time to time, and rather enjoy the perception of being in a low-stress job (as if SAHM is a low-stress job*). I don't care about meeting people through my husband and being seen as "just his younger wife who takes care of their little baby." That would have driven me nuts 5 years ago and really pissed me off. But now, I honestly don't give a crap if someone doesn't know about my academic position and accomplishments.
* Honestly, I think it would be incredibly stressful to be 30 years old and staying home with small kids. Not only are you responsible for them 24/7, but you have to teach them stuff like manners and using the potty. AND, if it were me, I would have constantly felt like I was missing out on my career options. I still had shit to prove to myself and everyone else.
Anyway, all of this just a really long post to say that I am really grateful for having an awesome "early childhood education program" where my daughter learns things like manners and sharing and all kinds of other cool things I never would have thought to teach her if we'd been hanging out at home together all the time. I don't have to feel so guilty about letting her watch Elmo on the weekends b/c she doesn't watch any TV during the week. And I am really grateful that I have a solid career with really good pay. I can afford to pay someone else to clean my house and change my sheets every week. And I can buy cute little crafty things like this that make me feel all crafty but don't take much time. I get to pretend to be a SAHM with essentially none of the stress/hard work/monotony that comes along with it. Not a bad situation, not bad at all.
Me is very, very lucky. :)
Wednesday, November 28, 2012
Sunday, November 25, 2012
The Naked Helper
Thank you all so much for the words of wisdom and comfort. I am definitely going to just wait until she's three and then spend, hopefully, only 3 days on potty training. I'll enjoy diapering for another year!!!
They do grow up way too fast. For example, today. Two things happened.
M has started getting into being naked. Which is cute. At least she isn't fighting too much on wearing a diaper while naked, and is even into wearing her hat with the kitty-cat ears and her kitty-cat slippers, so at least she isn't totally freezing.
And THEN... she helped with the groceries. It absolutely blew my mind. I had left all the grocery bags over by the entry-way and carried one to the kitchen and started putting the frozen stuff away. When, without a word or any prompting at all from me, M started carrying the bags over to the kitchen one-by-one. There was one bag that was too heavy for her, so she picked some of the stuff out of the bag, carried those things in one-by-one, and then carried the bag over when it was light enough for her.
OMG.
She actually helped! I mean, she cooperates a lot, which is helpFUL. But to actually HELP? This was the first time. And it rocked, even if it did weird me out. What a grown-up thing to do.
They do grow up way too fast. For example, today. Two things happened.
M has started getting into being naked. Which is cute. At least she isn't fighting too much on wearing a diaper while naked, and is even into wearing her hat with the kitty-cat ears and her kitty-cat slippers, so at least she isn't totally freezing.
And THEN... she helped with the groceries. It absolutely blew my mind. I had left all the grocery bags over by the entry-way and carried one to the kitchen and started putting the frozen stuff away. When, without a word or any prompting at all from me, M started carrying the bags over to the kitchen one-by-one. There was one bag that was too heavy for her, so she picked some of the stuff out of the bag, carried those things in one-by-one, and then carried the bag over when it was light enough for her.
OMG.
She actually helped! I mean, she cooperates a lot, which is helpFUL. But to actually HELP? This was the first time. And it rocked, even if it did weird me out. What a grown-up thing to do.
Diaper confession
I need to confess that I have not been trying to potty train M. Like, not at all. I did buy the little potty for her, and she likes to play with it from time to time. She even used it a few times when we first got it. But now it is just furniture.
I don't know if I am dragging my feet just because diapers are convenient and potty training seems hard. Maybe that is part of it.
But I think it is more about the fact that I loved the baby M was. And when we change diapers now it is like old times. It is a connection to those days and that intimacy and that cuteness. I am just not really ready to give up my little baby.
And so I feel a little twinge of guilt every time that huge box of diapers shows up on my doorstep. I wonder if I am being a bad mom.
I don't know if I am dragging my feet just because diapers are convenient and potty training seems hard. Maybe that is part of it.
But I think it is more about the fact that I loved the baby M was. And when we change diapers now it is like old times. It is a connection to those days and that intimacy and that cuteness. I am just not really ready to give up my little baby.
And so I feel a little twinge of guilt every time that huge box of diapers shows up on my doorstep. I wonder if I am being a bad mom.
Thursday, November 22, 2012
the end of nursing
I have been meaning to write for a while to talk about nursing.
First off, I miss it. It was a beautiful experience for me.
Don't get me wrong. It was hard, it was very messy at the beginning, it hurt, it was weird to always have to dress with nursing in mind, it was annoying that I had such large breasts and had to wear a nursing bra all the time, etc. There were definitely days when I hated that pump with a passion.
But then there were nights when I loved how easy it was to sort-of wake up, nurse my baby, and then go right back to bed without hardly having to open my eyes. I vividly remember sitting in the comfy rocking chair in M's room, feeling very content, connected to the cycle of life, very womanly, etc.
I loved the hormones. God how I loved how laid back the hormones made me feel. That part of breastfeeding really doesn't get anywhere near as much discussion as it should, as I think more women would nurse if they had any idea.
The first 6 weeks were really tough. I wasn't sure we would make it, but I was determined. It still kind of hurt at 6 weeks.
The first few months were one adventure-in-breastfeeding after another.
But by 6 months we were pros, mostly. It felt so freaking right and normal. It was what we did, such an essential part of our relationship I couldn't fathom ever not nursing.
By 12 months I was thinking that it would be so nice to nurse until she was ready to end on her own, but I knew that wouldn't play out for us. For one, her day care wouldn't do bottles of breast milk anymore. At 12 months they do cows milk for breakfast and lunch. So there was no need to pump anymore. We went down to just nursing maybe twice a day, first thing in the morning when I brought her back to bed to snooze with me, and always before bedtime or naptime as a way for her to relax. She would go to bed with someone else and not need to nurse, but if she was with me she'd want to nurse.
And then, logistics of my career became the final straw for our nursing days. When she was 15 months old, I had to go to the field in Africa for 5 weeks. I nursed her to sleep the night before I left. I was so stressed and sad about leaving that she stopped nursing at one point, looked up at me in all seriousness, and made the hand sign for "milk", as I had apparently been so stressed that the milk was not to her liking.
I got on the plane the next morning before she woke up, and that was it. She never asked to nurse again, and didn't seem to think of it at all while I was gone (as I wasn't there to remind her). Her daddy wouldn't take her into our bedroom in the morning, and still doesn't if I'm not in town. And she didn't remember nursing when I got back. I looked for the signs carefully, kind of wanting her to want to resume. In fact, I had taken a little hand pump and pumped a few times while I was gone. That was not easy and totally sucked, but I wanted to have a little milk if M asked for it.
But she never did.
And now I fit into my former bra size, all of my old shirts and dresses. I wear dresses, which I couldn't do while nursing or pumping. I can drink lots of caffeine, and eat crappy food and not feel too terribly bad about it.
And it hasn't really changed our relationship. She still loves to snuggle with me more than anyone else. We are very physical with each other, very intimate. We just don't nurse anymore.
It is kind of weird to have my body back all to myself. I remember saying, when I was pregnant and then when I was nursing, that I was lending my body to little M for a while. And that was exactly what it was like. I kinda miss it, and then again, I kind of like being all to myself. I feel very lucky to have gotten to have had that experience, and that it was so positive. I really feel for the women who have a rough go at it.
First off, I miss it. It was a beautiful experience for me.
Don't get me wrong. It was hard, it was very messy at the beginning, it hurt, it was weird to always have to dress with nursing in mind, it was annoying that I had such large breasts and had to wear a nursing bra all the time, etc. There were definitely days when I hated that pump with a passion.
But then there were nights when I loved how easy it was to sort-of wake up, nurse my baby, and then go right back to bed without hardly having to open my eyes. I vividly remember sitting in the comfy rocking chair in M's room, feeling very content, connected to the cycle of life, very womanly, etc.
I loved the hormones. God how I loved how laid back the hormones made me feel. That part of breastfeeding really doesn't get anywhere near as much discussion as it should, as I think more women would nurse if they had any idea.
The first 6 weeks were really tough. I wasn't sure we would make it, but I was determined. It still kind of hurt at 6 weeks.
The first few months were one adventure-in-breastfeeding after another.
But by 6 months we were pros, mostly. It felt so freaking right and normal. It was what we did, such an essential part of our relationship I couldn't fathom ever not nursing.
By 12 months I was thinking that it would be so nice to nurse until she was ready to end on her own, but I knew that wouldn't play out for us. For one, her day care wouldn't do bottles of breast milk anymore. At 12 months they do cows milk for breakfast and lunch. So there was no need to pump anymore. We went down to just nursing maybe twice a day, first thing in the morning when I brought her back to bed to snooze with me, and always before bedtime or naptime as a way for her to relax. She would go to bed with someone else and not need to nurse, but if she was with me she'd want to nurse.
And then, logistics of my career became the final straw for our nursing days. When she was 15 months old, I had to go to the field in Africa for 5 weeks. I nursed her to sleep the night before I left. I was so stressed and sad about leaving that she stopped nursing at one point, looked up at me in all seriousness, and made the hand sign for "milk", as I had apparently been so stressed that the milk was not to her liking.
I got on the plane the next morning before she woke up, and that was it. She never asked to nurse again, and didn't seem to think of it at all while I was gone (as I wasn't there to remind her). Her daddy wouldn't take her into our bedroom in the morning, and still doesn't if I'm not in town. And she didn't remember nursing when I got back. I looked for the signs carefully, kind of wanting her to want to resume. In fact, I had taken a little hand pump and pumped a few times while I was gone. That was not easy and totally sucked, but I wanted to have a little milk if M asked for it.
But she never did.
And now I fit into my former bra size, all of my old shirts and dresses. I wear dresses, which I couldn't do while nursing or pumping. I can drink lots of caffeine, and eat crappy food and not feel too terribly bad about it.
And it hasn't really changed our relationship. She still loves to snuggle with me more than anyone else. We are very physical with each other, very intimate. We just don't nurse anymore.
It is kind of weird to have my body back all to myself. I remember saying, when I was pregnant and then when I was nursing, that I was lending my body to little M for a while. And that was exactly what it was like. I kinda miss it, and then again, I kind of like being all to myself. I feel very lucky to have gotten to have had that experience, and that it was so positive. I really feel for the women who have a rough go at it.
Tuesday, November 6, 2012
infertility (not) in the news
I just ran across a mention of Mitt Romney's son having hired a surrogate for his last three children (a singleton and then twins). Apparently, Mitt helped to pay for the cost.
Does it strike anyone else as kind of odd that someone with his stance on abortion and his vice presidential running mate, and someone who endorses other candidates that are really regressive on women's reproductive freedoms... does it strike anyone else as kind of odd that he seems to think this way despite having had a close relative go through infertility issues?
There was an abortion clause in the contract when they had the twins.
And what about the likely frozen embryos, if they did IVF?
A little throat-clearing for Mr. "personhood starting at conception"...
(granted, his son and daugther-in-law apparently had three babies the regular way before having three through a surrogacy. maybe that's the difference/explaining factor.)
Just when there was an opportunity to really get some empathy for infertility out there.
Swoooosh.
Did you hear the missed opportunity fly out the door?
Does it strike anyone else as kind of odd that someone with his stance on abortion and his vice presidential running mate, and someone who endorses other candidates that are really regressive on women's reproductive freedoms... does it strike anyone else as kind of odd that he seems to think this way despite having had a close relative go through infertility issues?
There was an abortion clause in the contract when they had the twins.
And what about the likely frozen embryos, if they did IVF?
A little throat-clearing for Mr. "personhood starting at conception"...
(granted, his son and daugther-in-law apparently had three babies the regular way before having three through a surrogacy. maybe that's the difference/explaining factor.)
Just when there was an opportunity to really get some empathy for infertility out there.
Swoooosh.
Did you hear the missed opportunity fly out the door?
in someone's photo album thousands of miles away...
A few weeks ago a rather odd thing happened...
I was hanging out on campus with M and I let her run ahead. It was sort of an experiment to see just how far she'd go away from me before coming back. Ok, I'm a first-time mom. I'm naive. Turns out that these little toddlers will just keep going and going and going.
But as I was taking off after her she tripped. This of course resulted in a pool of tears, mama picking her up, snuggles and soft words to comfort her.
As we were sitting on a bench recovering from the trip, a group of Chinese tourist came by and started taking our picture. They were talking with each other animatedly, having a conversation that I didn't understand one word of but the tone certainly was something like, "oh look, American mother and child. Her toddler ran off and then tripped, needing to be comforted. Just like our toddlers do!"
And then, you'll love this. One of the women sat down beside me and posed for the camera. "Hey honey, take my picture with American mother and child! No one at home will believe this!"
Too freaking funny. I was so weirded out, but I did smile for the posed photo. What else can you do???
I was hanging out on campus with M and I let her run ahead. It was sort of an experiment to see just how far she'd go away from me before coming back. Ok, I'm a first-time mom. I'm naive. Turns out that these little toddlers will just keep going and going and going.
But as I was taking off after her she tripped. This of course resulted in a pool of tears, mama picking her up, snuggles and soft words to comfort her.
As we were sitting on a bench recovering from the trip, a group of Chinese tourist came by and started taking our picture. They were talking with each other animatedly, having a conversation that I didn't understand one word of but the tone certainly was something like, "oh look, American mother and child. Her toddler ran off and then tripped, needing to be comforted. Just like our toddlers do!"
And then, you'll love this. One of the women sat down beside me and posed for the camera. "Hey honey, take my picture with American mother and child! No one at home will believe this!"
Too freaking funny. I was so weirded out, but I did smile for the posed photo. What else can you do???
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