The MotherLoad
A friend of mine just changed her job status to seasonal at Whole Foods so that she can be home with her daughter during the summer. She said her coworkers kept offering her other options instead of just out and out not working, but she said, “They don’t understand, I’m a wife and a mother first.”
I understand perfectly. See, I have a five-year-old child who is growing up fast, and who needs a mother. Hence, I spent the weekend doing mother things. This last weekend, I took him to Tot Shabbat at the synagogue where we sang, “There’s a dinosaur knocking at my door and he wants to spend Shabbat with me.” We watched two episodes of Mr. Rogers where even I had to marvel at how magical the make believe world is. We had a playdate where friends brought their daughters and all the kids jumped on the trampoline and had dinner here. The next morning on Sunday, we woke and went to the zoo with a friend, and then in the afternoon, we went to a birthday party for twins in the French Quarter.
See, that is how I spend my weekends. I’m the mother of a five year old.
When I contemplate my life and what I’m missing, I don’t see a deficit. This is where I am in life. I have a young child who needs a mother. And I’m that person. I don’t think, wow, I want to be flying all over the world working at some glorious job. Or, oooohhhhh, I want to be out all night partying my butt off. I think, I need sleep because tomorrow is a whole lot of mother-tasking and I need to be at my best.
I’m in a period of transition that began at the end of 2001 – I’m trying to get my footing in work to keep my family financial afloat – I’m learning to maintain my strength in the face of Hashimoto’s – and I’m always aware of the Mother-Load.
